When my AP Calculus teacher assigned Chloe to be my lab partner, I knew the plot was officially starting. If I aced a test, she’d say: “I’m so jealous of you. You don’t even have to study to get an A. Unlike me, I only sleep five hours a night, and if I’m not careful, my grades drop…” If I went to a national academic decathlon, she’d say: “The school treats you so well, finding ways to pad your resume for college apps. Sigh…” If I got an early admission offer from an Ivy League school, she’d say: “With your family’s connections, you can get in anywhere you want. Meanwhile, I have to save every piece of scrap paper…” And just like that, my childhood best friend—our school’s star quarterback—felt sorry for her, and my roommates hated me for “bullying the weak.” In my past life, they bullied me to death. Right before I died, I heard Chloe say: “Oops, she just fell from the roof. But hey, that Ivy League spot is open now…” When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at Chloe, who was timidly moving her desk next to mine. I smiled. If I don’t play her to death in this life, my name isn’t Harper Montgomery! 1 When my homeroom teacher seated Chloe next to me, I knew immediately. The plot of my past life was repeating itself. Chloe’s grades were aggressively mediocre. She was always just a few points short. Knowing she came from a low-income family, the teacher placed her next to me, hoping I could help her out. After all, I was the Class President. Plus, as the resident genius girl, I was known for being helpful and kind. But that was in my past life. I watched with a mocking smirk as Chloe timidly dragged her desk next to mine. She sat down quietly, and plop—a single tear fell from her eye. “I’m so jealous of you, Harper. Even your pens are so pretty. They must be really expensive, right? Unlike me… I’ve never used a pen this pretty in my entire life…” Here we go. Here she goes again. I let out a cold laugh and ignored her. In my past life, when she did this, my heart softened, and I gave her my own expensive stationery without a second thought. I went out of my way to take care of her. I shared my lunch, bought her drinks, gave her everything. And in the end, I gave her my life. Seeing that I was ignoring her, a flash of embarrassment crossed Chloe’s face. But this was Chloe. Did you think a little embarrassment would stop her? A second later, she angled her body, revealing a tear-streaked, pitiful face. “Harper, you don’t hate me, do you? I guess it makes sense. You were born rich and privileged, so it’s normal that you look down on people. Unlike me, I’m used to walking on eggshells and reading the room…” I lost my patience and slammed my textbook onto my desk with a loud SMACK. It was passing period, and the classroom was noisy, but the sheer force of the slam made the entire class turn and look at us. Chloe also looked stunned. I kept a deadpan expression. She wanted attention? Fine, I’ll give her the spotlight. I sneered, “Chloe, the teacher put you here to study, but the second you sit down, you start crying. “What’s the deal? Are you unhappy sitting next to me? Then go complain to the teacher!” Chloe trembled violently, shrinking into herself. “Harper, no, you… you misunderstood me.” Her eyes dimmed dramatically. “I… I just… I’ve never seen such nice school supplies. I’m just envious. “Harper, I’m really just jealous of you. You were born into a wealthy family and never had to worry about money. You have such pretty stationery and notebooks. Unlike me…” I cut off her manipulative monologue immediately. “Why should I be like you? Like you in what way? Like you with an empty brain? Am I blind? I’m prettier than you, smarter than you, why the hell would I want to be like you? “You’re jealous of my stationery? What, are you trying to guilt-trip me into giving it to you for free? “Do I owe you something? “So what if my family has money? Do you hate the rich? Wow, that must be exhausting for you. There are a lot of wealthy kids in this class, are you going to hate all of them?” As soon as I finished speaking, the rest of the class started whispering. They pointed at Chloe, murmuring to each other. After all, our school is an elite, private prep school. The students here either come from old money or political dynasties. I don’t know about other classes, but in our homeroom, no one slacks off just because their family is rich. Everyone is fiercely competitive. We may have been born on third base, but that doesn’t mean we don’t swing the bat. In fact, we work twice as hard as regular students because the expectations placed upon us are astronomically higher. That’s exactly why the school placed the only two scholarship students from low-income neighborhoods into our homeroom. One was Chloe. The other was Mia, who was also assigned to be my roommate in the dorms. Even though their middle school grades were top-tier, keeping up with the rigorous curriculum of an elite prep school was visibly a struggle for them. 2 I stared coldly at Chloe, who was huddled in her seat. The whispers around us were loud and clear. “What is Chloe’s problem? Mr. Davis sat her next to Harper, and she’s complaining? If she doesn’t want the seat, she can move! Half the class would kill to sit next to the Class President!” “Exactly! That’s free elite tutoring! I want that seat!” “Holy crap, she actually pissed Harper off! It’s senior year, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen the Class President get mad!” “Ugh, she’s so fake. Calling the President ‘Harper’ like they’re besties or something.” “And crying about not having nice school supplies? Excuse me, did Mr. Davis and the school’s financial aid office just cease to exist? The school gives them a stipend every semester for supplies!” “Ugh. What an ungrateful brat.” I glanced casually at Mia, who was sitting a few rows behind me. One of my roommates. In my past life, she, Chloe, and my brain-dead childhood friend, Liam, constantly guilt-tripped and gaslit me until I lost my footing and fell from a ten-story roof. And after I died, Liam actively slandered me to my parents, twisting the truth completely. He convinced them that I was a high school bully who constantly tormented poor, helpless Chloe and Mia. My parents, overwhelmed with guilt and manipulated by his lies, pulled strings with the school board to transfer my Ivy League early admission spot to Chloe. They even paid full tuition for both Chloe and Mia’s four years of college! Thinking about this made my blood boil. I wanted to march over and beat Chloe and Mia to a pulp! At that moment, Mia frowned, stood up from her desk, and marched over to me. “Harper, it’s really not a big deal. Why are you trying to humiliate Chloe? “She was just making a comment.” Mia patted Chloe’s shoulder, acting like the ultimate savior of the oppressed. I laughed. Mia really thought she was something special. She had completely forgotten that her garbage GPA had only improved because I sacrificed my own free time every night to painstakingly tutor her. Now that she thought she had a shot at a state university and was going to change her life, she suddenly thought she was the savior of the masses? I let out a cold laugh and fired back: “Wow, look who it is. The superhero of the classroom. “Do you want me to move the Statue of Liberty so you can sit there instead? “Do you just have that much free time? Did you finish your AP Calculus homework? Did you memorize your SAT vocab? Did you finish your practice tests? “Are you serious, Mia? Did you already secure an acceptance letter from Harvard or Yale? Is that why you have the time to mind other people’s business?” Mia’s face flushed bright red. She opened her mouth to argue, but the bell rang. The students standing around immediately turned and scurried back to their desks. Only Chloe, still sobbing quietly, and Mia, holding her, were left standing awkwardly. I frowned. “Are you guys filming a soap opera? The bell rang! Go back to your seat!” A few students behind me chimed in. “Yeah! If you don’t sit down, you’re just going to complain later that the rich kids are bullying you!” “Ugh, Chloe is always acting so timid, like everyone owes her something.” Chloe clearly heard them. She gently pushed Mia away, her face pale, and silently lowered her head. Mia stood awkwardly between us, then lowered her head and quickly hurried back to her seat. I smirked and sat down. Just as I took my seat, the teacher walked in. “Class, take your seats!” No one mentioned the drama from passing period. It was as if it never happened. But I was the only one who saw Chloe tense up, her fists clenched tightly in her lap. She didn’t even pay attention to the lesson. I let my lips curl into a cold smile. Chloe, in this life, I’m taking the moral high ground before you even get a chance to climb it. Let’s see how you handle this. 3 As soon as the bell for lunch rang, Chloe stood up, squeezed past my desk, and ran out of the classroom. Mia walked past my desk shortly after, glaring at me with pure hatred before leaving. I chuckled lightly and ignored them. My other two roommates, Lily and Sarah, walked over and pulled up chairs around my desk. I blinked, looking at their worried faces. “What’s going on with you today?” Lily put a hand on my forehead. “You don’t have a fever… “Harper, did you have a personality transplant today?” Sarah nodded vigorously. “Yeah! I can’t believe you actually roasted Mia and Chloe during the break. We wanted to back you up, but we didn’t even know what was happening.” My eyes welled up slightly, and I scrunched my nose. In my past life, I was always polite and accommodating to everyone. I rarely lost my temper. No wonder they were shocked. I smiled and pinched both of their cheeks. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m fine. “I just finally saw certain people for who they really are.” Lily and Sarah exchanged a look, then simultaneously let out a sigh of relief. Lily: “Oh my god, thank goodness you finally woke up! You have no idea, Sarah and I have been annoyed with Mia for ages.” I raised an eyebrow, asking, “What happened?” Sarah pouted and whispered to me: “You don’t know, but whenever you’re not in the dorm, Mia acts like she owns the place. “She’s always bragging about how she’s going to get into a top state school, and acts like doing dorm chores or cleaning up is beneath her.” Lily added: “And… we caught her and Chloe trash-talking you a few times. We wanted to tell you, but you were spending so much time tutoring Mia, so we thought…” Me: … I was utterly speechless at Mia and Chloe. They didn’t have the royal bloodline, but they sure had the Princess Syndrome! I gently patted their hands. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you guys.” After all, if they had told me back then, given my pushover personality, I probably wouldn’t have believed them. As for tutoring? LMAO. That depends entirely on my mood now! 4 Lily and Sarah were about to keep gossiping when Mia stood at the classroom door and yelled: “Harper! Mr. Davis wants to see you!” I stared coldly at Mia, and then at Chloe standing next to her, whose face still had obvious tear streaks. Looks like they went crying to the homeroom teacher. Are you kidding me? Is this the best they can do? Do they still think they’re in middle school? I smiled brightly, stood up, and walked over to them. I cleared my throat and purposely raised my voice: “Oh my, look at the tear tracks on Chloe’s face. Did someone bully you? “Oh dear, it wasn’t me, was it? I didn’t even touch you.” Chloe trembled and quickly hid behind Mia. She bit her lip, and the tears started falling again. The next second, her performance began. “Harper, you really misunderstood me… I… I don’t know how to earn your forgiveness. “If my death is the only way to prove I’m not a bad person, I’ll die to apologize!” With that, she made a dramatic lunge as if she was going to bash her head against the hallway wall. Mia immediately grabbed her arm, turned to me, and started screaming: “Harper! Why are you driving Chloe to suicide?! Do you think just because you’re rich, we’re your toys?!” I twitched my mouth, thoroughly unimpressed. Were they filming a CW teen drama? Had they been watching too much trashy reality TV? I was too lazy to play along. I dropped my smile and fired back: “Who’s driving who? Aren’t you two the ones screaming about dying in the middle of the hallway? “If you’re going to do it, then do it! Hit the wall! “Mia, why are you throwing a tantrum at me again? Did I give you an inch and you decided to take a mile? Do you want me to kick you into next week?” “You!” Mia glared at me, pointing a finger in my face, but before she could say anything else, Sarah slapped her hand down from behind. Sarah: “Don’t point! Don’t you know it’s incredibly rude?!” Lily smiled softly and stood next to me. “Mia, you’re the one in the wrong here. Harper has helped you so much, and she’s never once looked down on your background.” I glanced casually at Chloe, who was staying out of the crossfire. She was staring at her shoes, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly upward. I smiled. “Chloe, why don’t we go see the teacher together?” Hearing her name, Chloe flinched and bit her lip, looking victimized. “Harper, I… I’m not like you. I can’t just go see the teacher whenever I want. “You’re dressed so nicely and expensively, of course you can go anywhere. Unlike me… I’ve never worn a dress that pretty. I try to avoid people…” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. How thick was her skull? Was she really still trying to guilt-trip me into buying her things? And she never even answered the question! I seriously doubt how she passed the entrance exams for this school. “What, are you going to a royal ball or something? You need to be decked out in gold and diamonds just to walk into the teacher’s lounge? Or what, do you want our entire class to start a GoFundMe to buy you a designer gown just so you feel worthy enough to talk to Mr. Davis?” Chloe’s face turned chalk-white. Seeing more and more students gathering in the hallway to watch, her legs suddenly “gave out,” and she collapsed against Mia. “Chloe!” Mia anxiously held her up, turning to glare at me with venom in her eyes. “Harper! What is wrong with you today?! Look what you did, you made Chloe pass out from stress!” I rolled my eyes. “If she’s that fragile, isn’t that her own medical problem? “You’re acting like Mother Teresa today, why don’t you hurry up and carry her to the nurse’s office? “You’re so tough, why are you all talk and no action?” Mia froze. It seemed she hadn’t expected me—the girl who was always so easy to manipulate—to relentlessly target them today. I didn’t care. I bumped past their shoulders and walked straight to the teacher’s lounge. 5 As soon as I walked into the office, Mr. Davis waved me over. “Harper, come here.” I smiled warmly, pretending to be completely clueless. “Mr. Davis, did you need something?” He pushed his glasses up his nose, looking a bit concerned. “Did you and Chloe have a disagreement? She and Mia came in here crying earlier…” I acted shocked. “Mr. Davis, I have no idea! “With AP exams coming up and classes being so stressful, who has the time for petty drama?” Mr. Davis clearly trusted me more. He sighed: “Do you want me to move your seats? The administration suggested I seat you together, but I don’t want it to affect your academic performance.” I couldn’t help but laugh internally. Chloe and Mia were truly idiots. Did they really think crying to the teacher would work? Please. I’m the Class President and the valedictorian. I smiled politely. “No need, Mr. Davis. They can’t affect me. It’s just…” I paused, looking conflicted. “What is it?” I sighed heavily, putting on a serious face. “Mr. Davis, studying requires personal effort. “I want to help her, but if she doesn’t appreciate it, it’s just wasting my time.” Mr. Davis thought for a moment, then suddenly pulled a form out of his desk drawer. My eyes lit up. I was thrilled. “Actually, I was going to tell you about this in a few days. “There’s a National Academic Decathlon coming up, and the school wants you to represent us. Fill out this registration form and bring it back to me. “Just focus on preparing for the decathlon for now, Harper. I believe in you. You’ve got this!” I carefully took the form and nodded solemnly at the teacher. “Don’t worry, Mr. Davis. I will definitely make the school proud!” Are you kidding? My family owns shares in this school. Not that many people knew that. Making the school proud meant higher enrollment numbers next year. Which meant fatter dividend checks for my family! I happily carried the registration form back toward the classroom. Just as I reached the door, I saw a guy sitting at my desk, talking to Chloe. Seeing Chloe occasionally lowering her head in a shy, demure way, I smirked. Perfect. The main cast of this tragedy was finally fully assembled. 6 In my past life, it was around this exact time. My childhood best friend and the school’s star quarterback, Liam, came to my classroom looking for me, only to run into the fragile, bird-like Chloe. They hit it off immediately. And when I came back with the registration form, eager to share the good news with Liam… With a single, pathetic sentence from Chloe, Liam demanded that I give my competition spot to her. In my past life, I was too used to being a people-pleaser. Even though I was hurt, seeing Chloe’s desperate, hopeful eyes, I caved. I gave her the spot, and she was eliminated in the very first round… She single-handedly tanked the school’s reputation in the state finals. And Liam? He blamed me. “Why didn’t you tutor her better? Did you want her to make a fool of herself?! Harper, I’ve known you my whole life, and I never realized you were this manipulative! No wonder you gave up your spot so easily!” Heh. In my past life, I was a massive idiot. I compromised over and over again, and I never told my parents about what was happening at school. That’s what allowed these losers to think they could walk all over me. Liam probably forgot that the only reason his family had money was because my family threw them a bone. I stared coldly at the two of them chatting and let out a soft laugh. I walked quietly up to my desk and kicked the chair hard. Liam lost his balance and nearly fell face-first into Chloe’s lap. Furious, Liam jumped up, ready to start cursing. But when he saw it was me, he instantly deflated. Still, Liam had an ego to maintain. He puffed out his chest and demanded: “Harper, what the hell are you doing?! Did you forget your meds today?!” I ignored him. I pulled a bottle of disinfectant spray out of my desk and started spraying my desk and chair aggressively. After spraying, I grabbed a paper towel and wiped everything down vigorously. Once I was done, I finally sat down and shot Liam an icy glare. “Some disgusting trash sat on my desk. It was dirty.” Liam’s face turned beet red. He slammed his hand down on my desk in anger. Without a second thought, I sprayed the disinfectant directly onto his hand. “AH!” Liam yanked his hand back. “Harper! What is your problem?! Are you crazy?! “I don’t care how much you apologize, I am never forgiving you for this!” Ugh, childish. I slammed the registration form onto my desk and glared at him. “Liam, what are you barking at? Go back to the locker room. Stop barking at people.” “Harper! You just called me a dog!” Liam’s face flushed with rage. He looked like he wanted to grab me by the collar. I stared blankly at his hand reaching toward me. “Liam, did you forget what happened the last time your family almost went bankrupt?” Liam froze. His hand hovered awkwardly in the air. Meanwhile, Chloe stretched her neck, trying to read the form on my desk. I smirked and deliberately pushed the form closer to her. Just as I predicted, Chloe read it closely and gasped: “Oh my god, Harper, are you going to the National Academic Decathlon?!” I ignored her, so she just kept talking to herself, “The school treats you so well, finding ways to pad your resume for college apps. Sigh, unlike me. My family is poor, so of course the school would never give me a spot like this…” Ha. Here we go again.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “434843”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My clout-chasing cousin staged a malicious prank that sent my grandmother into cardiac arrest. After the video went viral on TikTok, she decided to up the ante: she was going to hire fake armed robbers to break into our house and terrorize my grandmother again. My response? I bought a 12-gauge shotgun. When the “robbers” broke in, I didn’t hesitate. I pulled the trigger. 1. It was Thanksgiving, a rare occasion for the whole family to gather under one roof. Uncles, aunts, and cousins crammed into my grandmother’s house for the holiday. My younger cousin, Chloe, who barely ever visited, actually showed up this year. Because she was the youngest, Grandma spoiled her the most. At the dinner table, Grandma was constantly fussing over her, passing her the gravy, cutting the turkey, and making sure her plate was full. But Chloe didn’t care. She was entirely absorbed in her livestream, shoving her phone in everyone’s faces. The constant loud chatter and obnoxious behavior left the whole family rolling their eyes. Finally, I spoke up: “You have millions of followers. It’s not cool to film the whole family and put us on the internet without asking.” She rolled her eyes at me with pure disdain. “You don’t get it. Holiday traffic is peaking right now, and traffic equals money! Besides, we’re all family. Don’t be so stingy.” She immediately spun back to her camera, puckering her lips. “Omg, thank you for the Galaxy gift, besties! Mua!” I couldn’t stomach her fake, sickeningly sweet persona. “Stop filming me.” I reached out and pushed the camera lens away from my face. I didn’t mind a quick picture for Instagram, but being broadcasted to an audience of millions made my skin crawl. “God, Harper, what century are you living in?” Chloe mocked, her tone dripping with passive-aggression. “Are you from the 1800s? You think a camera is gonna steal your soul?” “It’s rare for all of us to be together, let’s keep the peace,” Grandma quickly intervened, trying to smooth things over. “Chloe, sweetie, just put the phone away for dinner.” I swallowed my anger. It was Thanksgiving, and I didn’t want to ruin the night for Grandma, so I let it go. But I never expected her to take things even further. I had just walked into the kitchen to slice some pecan pie when I heard a blood-curdling scream coming from Grandma’s bedroom upstairs. I sprinted up the stairs and burst into the room. Grandma had collapsed on the floor, completely unconscious. Right beside her lay a highly realistic, remote-controlled rattlesnake. Chloe was standing there, holding her phone on a selfie stick, looking blankly at the screen as the live chat exploded. “I… I didn’t think she’d be this scared…” A furious, blinding rage erupted inside me. I wanted to smash her phone to pieces and slap her across the face. Trading a family member’s health for views. She had absolutely no bottom line. But Grandma’s life was the priority. I shoved Chloe aside and immediately dialed 911. When the paramedics arrived, I helped them load Grandma onto the stretcher. Just as the ambulance doors were about to close, Chloe hopped in. “I’ll go with you guys.” I thought she was actually stepping up to take responsibility. Instead, the second the ambulance started moving, she started her livestream again. She even pointed her camera directly at the EMT who was performing emergency CPR. “Guys, my Grandma is having a heart attack. The medics are doing CPR. This is all because of the prank you guys voted for! Spam ‘1’ in the chat to tell the Grim Reaper to back off! Help your girl out, drop some prayers in the chat!” The EMT glared at her, shaking his head in disbelief. Hearing her absolute sociopathic nonsense, I lunged forward and snatched the phone from her hand. “Chloe, that is enough!” Chloe panicked. “I’m live! Give it back!” I angrily ended the stream and threw the phone right at her chest. If Grandma wasn’t fighting for her life right now, I would have ripped her hair out. She scoffed, caught her phone, and muttered, “It’s just a joke. We’re family. You can’t even take a joke.” “What the hell did you just say?” I snarled. She huffed indignantly. “She’s not gonna die! Why are you yelling at me?! It’s not a big deal, why did you have to throw my phone?” I fought down the urge to strangle her, telling myself I’d deal with her once Grandma was stable. But Chloe wasn’t done. “It was just a little prank! Grandma probably won’t even be mad at me! You’re the one making everyone panic. Am I not allowed to love Grandma just because I stream? I literally asked my chat to pray for her! Stop gaslighting me with your fake moral high ground!” I was so livid I was seeing red. “If Grandma pulls through, I am going to destroy you,” I warned her coldly, then ignored her for the rest of the ride. Luckily, we got her to the hospital in time. She was immediately rushed into the ICU. My dad, my uncles, and my aunts were pacing the waiting room in pure agony. That’s when Chloe appeared, putting on a flawless, tearful act. My dad thought she was coming to apologize and sighed, “We’re family, we know it was an accident. Just don’t do stupid stuff like this anymore.” Chloe nodded obediently. I thought the drama was over. But later, passing by the hospital stairwell, I overheard Chloe’s voice. “Hey besties, I got my family’s forgiveness! I told you guys they wouldn’t actually be mad at me. Grandma is in the ICU right now, so I’m doing a quick stream. Dropping a few Super Chats to help me pay for Grandma’s hospital bills wouldn’t hurt, right?” Standing in the shadows, I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth would shatter. 2. This wasn’t her first time pulling this garbage. Since she arrived for the holidays, she had been a relentless menace. Pranking people, humiliating them on camera, and exposing their insecurities—that was her secret to going viral. She knew my nephew Tyler was struggling with math and science, hoping to get an art scholarship instead. She had shoved her phone right into Tyler’s face: “Tyler, what did you get on your SATs? Didn’t your dad pay thousands for that prep course? If your grades are trash, being good at painting won’t save you. You’re never going to get into a good college.” In front of the entire extended family, the poor kid’s face turned beet red. He was young, prideful, but too shy to snap back. The awkward, humiliating tension immediately brought a surge of viewers to her stream. Later, egged on by her toxic chat, she secretly logged into Tyler’s Xbox and deleted all his saved game data, causing the kid to lock himself in his room for three days. When she saw me playing video games in the living room, she sidled up to me, aiming the camera: “Harper, why are you gaming all day? Haven’t seen you FaceTime a boyfriend all weekend. You’re 25 and still single… wait, don’t tell me you’re still a virgin?” My dad and uncles were sitting right there watching football. I was mortified and furious, my fists balling up at my sides. She put on this smug, ‘know-it-all’ tone. “Aww, is Harper blushing? No way, you’re 25 and never done it? People are gonna laugh at you, girl.” When she saw my Uncle Mark, she enthusiastically dragged him into the frame. Uncle Mark was a laid-back guy, so he just smiled and waved at the chat. But then she zoomed in on his face. “Uncle Mark, your dark circles are crazy. Do you have erectile dysfunction or something? Low testosterone? You’re only 39!” Uncle Mark froze, his smile dying instantly. There were over a dozen relatives in the room. And she ruthlessly doubled down: “Guess my aunt is being left unsatisfied, huh?” Uncle Mark couldn’t even speak; he looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. As the topics got more outrageous, her viewer count skyrocketed. Chloe was absolutely ecstatic, her face twisting into an ugly, greedy grin. I knew then that she was going to do something even worse. Sure enough. When my cousin Ryan brought his new girlfriend home for the first time, Chloe pounced. She didn’t just say hi. She grabbed Ryan’s arm, pressing her chest against him, demanding they take a selfie for Instagram. She was overly handsy, clinging to his shoulder. It made all of us uncomfortable, let alone his new girlfriend. Ryan looked pissed and tried to pull his girlfriend away. Chloe yelled after them, “Wow, haven’t seen you in a few years and suddenly you’re too good for me just because you work in the city now? Have you forgotten when we were toddlers running around in diapers playing husband and wife?!” Unsurprisingly, Ryan’s girlfriend looked horrified. Chloe just proudly looked at her chat. “Pranking 999 people challenge! That makes 27! Keep it up, Chloe, you’re doing great!” 3. A week later, Grandma was finally moved out of the ICU. However, her heart condition had severely worsened due to the shock. The doctors recommended a highly specialized, high-risk surgery. After discussing it with the family, I decided to take Grandma to a top-tier cardiac clinic in Texas for the operation and her subsequent recovery. What I didn’t expect was that the video of Chloe’s snake prank had absolutely exploded online. In a matter of days, it racked up nearly ten million likes on TikTok. I clicked on the video. The comments were sickening. People thought it was just a harmless, staged skit. They had no idea my grandmother almost died. “The ultimate prankster! 10/10 content.” “Pranking your own family is ruthless, but it’s a thousand times better than those fake street pranks.” “Lmao the way Grandma dropped to the floor is kinda cute.” “Karma -1 for laughing.” “Everyone saying Karma -1, chill. Isn’t there a line? She’s elderly. What if she literally had a heart attack?” “Look at the fun police up here! Bro, it’s called entertainment. It’s obviously scripted and acted out.” The intense controversy only fueled the algorithm. The video went mega-viral. As much as I hated Chloe’s guts, I was too busy taking care of Grandma to deal with her. But then, Chloe posted an update that pushed me past my breaking point. In the video, she looked hyped. After thanking her fans for the views, she announced she was turning the family pranks into a series. The next episode would be “Pranking Grandma Pt. 2”. She boldly claimed she was collaborating with a famous, extreme prank squad. I knew exactly who they were. They were a notorious group of YouTubers who got views by harassing innocent people and making them miserable. They would stop exhausted construction workers on the street and ask them why they didn’t apply Sephora makeup before leaving the house. When the bewildered workers just smiled awkwardly into the camera, the internet turned them into memes. Or they would chase down amputees, shove cameras in their faces, and ask why they didn’t just walk on two legs. Then they’d answer their own question: “Oh, because hopping on one leg is faster! Makes sense!” They called their flavor of exploiting disabled and working-class people “post-modern dark comedy.” If anyone got mad, they just gaslit them: “Bro, it’s just a prank. Why are you so pressed?” Everyone hated them in real life, but online, they pulled millions of views. Right now, I had just settled Grandma into a rental house in rural Texas after her successful surgery. Chloe announced she was flying out to prank us again. She even posted a cinematic trailer for “Pranking Grandma Pt. 2”, revealing the plot: they were going to dress up as armed robbers, break into our house, and hold us hostage. I let out a cold laugh and closed TikTok. You want to break into my house in Texas? I don’t care if you’re a fake robber or a real one. You’re not walking out of here alive. If she wanted to play Russian Roulette with her life, I would gladly pull the trigger. 4. The trailer for “Pranking Grandma Pt. 2” caused a massive uproar online. Her follower count surged once again. Millions of people were waiting to see her terrorize my grandmother a second time. Fueled by the hype, Chloe posted daily updates: her plane tickets, ski masks, realistic prop guns, fake blood… Every post drove the internet into a frenzy of anticipation. A few days later, she and her prank squad touched down in Texas. And I took my ID and walked into a local gun shop. Seeing a customer, the owner immediately walked over and asked what I was looking for. “If you want to go hunting, I recommend this rifle. Great penetration, fast reload…” “If it’s for home defense, this compact 9mm is great…” I cut him off. “If I am a woman, home alone, and a group of armed men kicks down my front door, what do I use to stop them instantly?” The owner paused, clearly taken aback by the specific scenario. “What? A whole group of robbers?” “Oh, I see. You want stopping power.” He reached up to the rack behind the counter and pulled down a sleek, matte-black 12-gauge tactical shotgun. “One trigger pull clears the hallway. You could have a grizzly bear charging you, and this would put it on its back.” Feeling the heavy, cold weight of the steel in my hands, I made my decision instantly. “I’ll take it. Give me the buckshot.” You want to play games in my house? I’m going to blow you to pieces. The next day, Chloe posted a photo of her squad at the local Texas airport with the caption: “Going to give you guys the surprise of a lifetime tonight!” At that moment, I was running a cloth over the barrel of my new shotgun. I’ve got a surprise for you, too. In Texas, the Castle Doctrine is absolute. If someone forcefully breaks into your occupied home, you have the legal right to use deadly force to protect yourself. Especially if they look like armed robbers. Whether it was a prank or not, how was I supposed to know? The clock ticked by. That evening, I was in Grandma’s room, helping her change the bandages from her surgery. Suddenly, I heard the crunch of heavy footsteps on the gravel outside. Followed by aggressive, rapid banging on the front door. I peeked through the blinds. They had already set up multiple tripod cameras on the lawn. I calmly pulled out my phone and opened TikTok. Sure enough, they were live. The viewer count was skyrocketing, the chat moving so fast it was a blur. “The hype is real! It’s finally starting!” “Lmao I bet the cousin is gonna piss her pants. Even if she knows it’s a prank, she’s gonna be terrified.” “For real, Chloe’s props and acting are way too good.” “Kick the door down already! I want to see the grandma’s face! She’s so cute when she’s scared!” “If the homeowner literally gets a heart attack, Chloe is a menace and I love it.” “Taking bets! How many seconds until the cousin starts crying?” I quietly put my phone in my pocket. I didn’t respond to the violent knocking. Instead, I walked into the living room. I pulled the shotgun from behind the couch, loaded the shells, and clicked off the safety. The show was about to begin. I raised the shotgun, aiming the black barrel dead center at the wooden front door. Standing on the other side of the wood, I shouted: “Who is it?!” The second they breached, I was going to turn them into Swiss cheese.

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My daughter-in-law is dead. She was a System Host, just like me. I had good luck. I successfully completed my mission, settled down in this world, married, and had a child. But she was obliterated by the System. 1. I called my son to tell him the news of his wife’s death. Arthur just scoffed on the other end of the line. “Mom, how did she buy you off? I can’t believe you’re helping her trick me into coming home with such a pathetic excuse.” I was so furious at this idiot I could hardly breathe. If the official death certificate didn’t take a few days to process, I would have slammed it right into his stupid face. Arthur lowered his voice, trying to placate me: “Mom, Claire’s depression is getting worse. The doctor says she’s having suicidal thoughts.” “I’ll come back once she’s doing a bit better.” This bastard might be my biological son, but he was also the designated Capture Target the System assigned to my daughter-in-law. Whenever Arthur bullied my daughter-in-law for the sake of his “first love,” I stepped in to help her. But the System issued a severe warning. If I interfered as an anomaly again, it would automatically declare her mission a failure. No one knows the consequences of a failed mission better than I do. I had to stand by and watch. The feeling was a mix of agonizing heartbreak and utter helplessness. I kept Evelyn’s funeral low-profile, handling it alongside her adoptive parents. Looking at Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, whose hair seemed to have turned completely white overnight, I couldn’t find a single word of comfort. After all, this was entirely the fault of my bastard son. 2. The day Arthur and Claire returned to the country, he stormed into the house in a blind rage, screaming his wife’s name. “Evelyn! Evelyn! Get your ass out here right now!” I didn’t move. I just watched my son lose his mind with cold, dead eyes. He searched the entire mansion. Finding no trace of her, he ran up to me: “Mom, where is Evelyn? Where the hell is she hiding?” “She’s dead in the ocean. I scattered her ashes in the Pacific.” Arthur looked at me like I was a lunatic. “Mom, stop messing around. Do you know what she did? She secretly leaked the fact that we’re married to TMZ.” “Now the whole internet is attacking Claire, calling her a homewrecker.” “How could she be so vicious?! Claire couldn’t handle the cyberbullying and collapsed. She’s in the hospital!” A cold smirk crept up the corners of my mouth. “Couldn’t handle it? If she can’t handle a little heat, why is she an actress?” Arthur didn’t expect me to take Evelyn’s side so blatantly. He was furious. “Mom, did Evelyn brainwash you?! I’m your actual son!” Heh. If I had known you would turn out to be such world-class trash, I would have drowned you the day you were born. Too lazy to argue, I stood up and headed upstairs. As I walked, I dialed my company’s PR director. “Did you see the trending topics on X?” “Yes, Mrs. Sterling. The one accusing the rising pop star of stepping into your son’s marriage.” “Take it down? Why would we take it down? Double the budget! Don’t let that hashtag drop!” Behind me, my son’s deafening roar echoed through the foyer: “MOM!” 3. The hashtag was eventually taken down by my bastard son. Not only that, but he hired fixers to release a fake relationship timeline between him and Claire. He painted Evelyn as a malicious, gold-digging schemer who forced her way into his bed and drove a heartbroken Claire out of the country. Claire then hosted an Instagram Live. Tearfully, she choked out a story about how she and my son had been deeply in love since college. She claimed the real homewrecker was Evelyn. Honestly, all she had to do was open her mouth, and the internet ate up her lies. Thanks to Arthur’s massive capital backing, Claire’s image was quickly washed clean, and public opinion completely flipped. My assistant asked me: “Mrs. Sterling, should we issue a statement to clear your daughter-in-law’s name?” My face was like ice. “Tell the PR department to prep all the dirt we have. Stay on standby.” Having navigated the corporate shark tank for decades, I knew one universal truth. When you strike, you strike to kill. You make sure your enemies can never rise again. There will be plenty of time for them to regret it later. 4. When Arthur came home that night, the first thing he did was call for his wife. “Evelyn, my stomach ulcer is acting up. Bring me my meds.” I sat at the dining table, slowly eating my dinner, treating him like empty air. Arthur walked up to me, looking confused. “Mom, why are you eating alone? Where is Evelyn?” “What? When you need something, it’s Evelyn. When you’re fine, it’s Claire?” Arthur’s face paled. He looked away unnaturally. “Mom, Claire and I aren’t what you think.” Oh, isn’t that the classic scumbag manifesto? “Mom, my stomach hurts. Call Evelyn and tell her to come home.” “What is her problem anyway? I’ve been back for days and haven’t even seen her. Does she even want to be married anymore?” I gave him a sideways glance, finding the audacity hilarious. “You run off to accompany another woman all day, but you demand Evelyn stay on standby at home? We don’t have a royal throne for you to inherit, boy.” Arthur stiffened his neck and argued back: “Mom, fine, you don’t care that my stomach hurts. But why are you always snapping at me? Is this how a real mother acts?!” Ugh. Looking at my son’s punchable face and listening to his garbage behavior, I instantly lost my appetite. I pushed my plate away, preparing to go upstairs, change, and leave. Arthur’s face was livid. “Mom, Evelyn ran straight to Claire and used our history to trigger her! She caused Claire’s depression to spiral into a suicide attempt. That’s the only reason I took her abroad to recover!” “And when I confronted Evelyn, she played the victim and expected me to believe her. She’s shameless!” “Tell her that if she doesn’t want to come back, she can stay gone forever!” I replied effortlessly, “Okay. Sounds good.” There were security cameras in the house. After Evelyn died, I watched the footage of the fight Arthur picked with her over Claire. Arthur’s words had been absolutely merciless. At the end of the footage, he slammed the door and left. Evelyn squatted on the floor, burying her face in her knees. Her shoulders shook violently as she sobbed, asking the System what she should do. She always acted like she was only here for the mission. But I knew. The mission was just an excuse. She had genuinely fallen in love with him. As a veteran Host who had survived countless worlds, I had constantly warned her: Never give your heart to the Target. Love is the most useless thing for a System Host. It only slows down your extraction speed. But it was too late. Evelyn told me that during college, because she was quiet and introverted, she was heavily bullied by a guy who was obsessed with her. In her most desperate, helpless moment, Arthur stepped in front of her and saved her. He became her light, protecting her throughout her four years of college. And Evelyn had secretly loved him for those entire four years. She was already in too deep to pull out. 5. Arthur clearly didn’t expect me to agree. He let out a shocked sound. “Mom?” “Don’t worry. Evelyn won’t ever come back. Not ever.” I turned my back to him, tilting my head up to force the tears back into my eyes. Arthur furrowed his brows. “Mom, if this is some twisted tactic you and Evelyn cooked up to force me to cut ties with Claire, I am absolutely not compromising.” I remembered a time when Evelyn had severe cramps, in so much agonizing pain she was pale and sweating. She just wanted Arthur to stay home with her. But because of one single phone call from Claire, Arthur ignored Evelyn’s pleas and insisted on leaving. I physically blocked the door, locked him inside, and confiscated his phone. The System immediately issued multiple red-alert warnings. Evelyn’s vital signs even began to drop drastically. Terrified, I had no choice but to unlock the door and let the bastard go. After he left, Evelyn held onto me, crying until she almost threw up. This kind, beautiful girl had been an orphan before she came to this world, tasting nothing but the bitterness of life. After being selected as a Host, she finally gained parents who loved her, and she was so fiercely independent it broke my heart. Even when she was bullied in college, she didn’t dare tell her parents, not wanting to be a burden. After Arthur brought Claire back, he did countless horrible things to Evelyn. Whenever I tried to intervene, Evelyn would always beg me not to ruin my relationship with my son. And the damn System constantly threatened me with Evelyn’s obliteration, forcing me to endure the agony of being a bystander. Thinking of Evelyn, now erased from existence, my mood plummeted. I waved a dismissive hand at my son. “Get out. I don’t want to look at you.” Arthur stormed out in a huff. 6. A few days later, the Sterling Group hosted its annual corporate gala. I never expected Arthur to actually bring Claire to the event. When Claire saw me, the timid, cautious demeanor she had years ago was entirely gone. With Arthur momentarily away, she walked up to me, a smug smile on her face. “Mrs. Sterling, you tried so hard to stop Arthur and me from being together back then. But look, after all these years, the one he truly loves is still me.” I gracefully smoothed a stray hair on my forehead, completely unfazed by her provocation. “Are you so sure my son still loves you?” Claire’s eyes instantly reddened, putting on a flawless act of being bullied. Arthur rushed over, shielding Claire behind him. He looked at me with exasperation. “Mom, can you please stop picking on Claire?” I laughed out loud. “Which one of your eyes saw me picking on her?” Claire, playing the delicate white flower, sniffled and wiped away invisible tears. “Arthur, don’t blame your mother. It’s perfectly normal that she doesn’t like me.” “After all, you come from such a wealthy family, and you’re so outstanding. I don’t deserve you.” Arthur, who had been raised to be respectful, didn’t dare yell at me in public. So he turned to comfort Claire instead. “Don’t take what my mom says to heart. She’s been spoiled by my dad her whole life, so her temper isn’t great. But she’s all bark and no bite.” Too much of a bitch. I couldn’t watch this anymore. As I walked away, I heard Claire whisper to him: “Arthur, is the only reason you won’t divorce Evelyn because your mom won’t allow it?” 7. The paparazzi are excellent at catching the scent of blood. The Sterling Group’s corporate gala didn’t make waves for its business deals. Instead, Arthur and Claire skyrocketed to the top of the trending lists. #SterlingGroupCEOAndPopStarClaireVanceEngagementRumors #ArthurSterlingHoldsHandsWithClaireVanceAtGala #SterlingCEOMakesRelationshipPublic Every media outlet seemed to conveniently forget that the CEO of the Sterling Group, Arthur Sterling, had a legally wedded wife. Occasionally, a few comments would question why Arthur hadn’t announced a divorce, calling Claire a mistress, but they were quickly deleted by PR bots. Arthur and Claire… what a perfect pair of scumbags. 8. That night, my darling son didn’t come home. The paparazzi caught him and Claire entering a five-star hotel owned by the Sterling Group, sparking another wave of trending gossip. The next morning, I hired a moving company to clear out every single thing that belonged to my daughter-in-law. Including their massive wedding portraits. The butler stood nervously to the side, watching me. “Madam, if you clear out all of the young miss’s belongings… won’t you leave even a single keepsake for the young master?” “He isn’t worthy of Evelyn. He would only taint the pure love she gave him.” The butler sighed and said nothing. Looking at the empty, hollow house, I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my aged face. My son was Evelyn’s first Capture Target. And her last. I couldn’t help but curse the System: “Out of everyone in this world you could have chosen as the Target, why did it have to be my son?!” The System’s mechanical voice echoed in my head: “This was the Host’s own choice.” I had nothing to say. 9. When Arthur finally came home, he instinctively called out for his wife. “Evelyn! I’m starving, make me a bowl of noodles!” The housekeeper ran out from the kitchen. “Sir, what kind of noodles would you like? I can make them.” Arthur waved his hand impatiently. “No, I want the way Evelyn makes them.” The housekeeper looked at me, hesitating. I gave her a look, and she wisely retreated to her quarters. “Mom, where is Evelyn—” Arthur suddenly froze, his eyes widening in anger. “Where are the wedding photos?” As if realizing something, he sprinted upstairs. A few minutes later, the slam of his bedroom door shook the walls. He stormed back down to me, suppressing his rage. “Mom? What the hell is Evelyn playing at? Is she serious? She emptied the closet! Her clothes, bags, shoes—all gone!” “She even took her skincare bottles off the vanity?! Real mature!” I gave him a half-smile. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Making room for your precious first love.” Arthur pulled out his phone and rapidly dialed Evelyn’s number over and over. Every time, it went straight to an automated out-of-service message. He aggressively ran his hands through his hair, pacing. “Mom, is she seriously trying to divorce me? I don’t believe it!” “She loves me to death! To help cure my stomach ulcers, she spent months researching healthy recipes and cooking for me.” “When we took our wedding photos, I looked miserable the whole time, but she still smiled, called me handsome, and treated that portrait like a treasure, dusting it every single day.” “The year Dad died, the company was in crisis. I was out every night begging for investments, getting bullied by execs, drinking until I threw up blood.” “After that, Evelyn came with me to every business dinner. She took the drinks for me until she was hospitalized for alcohol poisoning.” “She did all of that for me. I refuse to believe she actually wants a divorce.” “This is definitely just a trick. She’s throwing a tantrum so I’ll prove I love her. Well, I’m not playing her game.” “Let’s see how long she can keep up this silent treatment if I just ignore her!” With that, Arthur kicked a priceless porcelain vase in a fit of rage. It shattered across the floor, and he stormed out of the house. A chilling cold spread through my heart. So he knew. He knew everything Evelyn did for him. He just weaponized her love, abusing it without consequence because he knew she wouldn’t leave. She bet her body and soul on this mission, and in the end, she died for it. 10. Suffocating in the house, I met up with a friend to go shopping in Beverly Hills. I didn’t expect to run into my bastard son, accompanying Claire on a shopping spree, at the Chanel boutique. My friend patted my arm, gesturing for me to look over. Claire was clinging to Arthur’s arm, smiling coyly. We walked closer, staying out of sight, and overheard Claire whining: “I really, really love this bag. Buy it for me, Arthur?” “That bag is reserved for Evelyn. I already ordered it for her. I’ll get you a different one for your birthday.” My friend and I exchanged a look of pure shock. Did the sun rise in the west today? Arthur actually refused Claire’s request for Evelyn’s sake. Claire pressed her body entirely against his chest, her voice sickeningly sweet: “Arthur, Evelyn already has so many bags. She doesn’t need this one, right?” “Doesn’t she have your black card anyway? Didn’t you say she loves using your card to buy bags?” “Can’t you just let me have this one? Please?” Those few sentences were a masterclass in manipulative guilt-tripping. My friend and I had seen enough and walked away arm in arm. It didn’t matter anyway. Evelyn was gone. Even if Arthur bought the bag for Claire, Evelyn wouldn’t be here to get her heart broken.

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For a top-secret government research project, I spent 5 years stationed in a remote desert facility. Everyone thought I was dead. My mother-in-law wanted to declare me legally dead and pressure my husband to remarry. My daughter’s classmates bullied her, calling her an unwanted child with no mother. … Just then, the research project achieved ultimate success. I appeared at a global press conference. And in front of the entire world, I gave a message to my family: I’m coming home. 1 Thousands of miles of barren land, yellow sand filling the sky. No one would ever imagine that in such a desolate place, there was a highly classified laboratory. After five grueling years, my colleagues and I finally completed our ultimate research project. This was an era-defining scientific breakthrough. Now, we just had to wait three days for the final test results, and we could finally go home. When the time came, we would announce this achievement to the world. I flashed a tired smile and took out my phone, seeing a few more missed calls pop up on the screen. If I scrolled down, I would find tens of thousands of missed calls. All from the exact same person—my husband. This project was strictly top-secret. My family and friends had absolutely no idea where I was. They didn’t even know if I was dead or alive. After I “disappeared,” my husband, Ryan, went crazy looking for me. He had called me tens of thousands of times. I wasn’t allowed any contact with the outside world. But I never changed my phone number. His daily missed calls had become the motivation that kept me going. In three more days, I could finally answer his call. And tell him. I’m here. I’ve always been here. 2 Back in the breakroom, I immediately opened the baby monitor app on my phone. On the screen, a beautiful, porcelain-doll-like little girl blinked her big, watery eyes and said pitifully: “Daddy, Lily has a Parent-Teacher event in three days. I want Mommy to go for me, can she?” Ryan’s voice was heavy with exhaustion: “Mommy went… on a business trip far, far away… Daddy will go for you.” Lily’s voice was full of grievance, and she started crying as she spoke: “Daddy is lying. Lily is five years old this year, but I’ve never even seen Mommy. “Does Lily not have a Mommy at all…?” “Be good, Mommy is just very busy with work. Maybe… she’ll be back in a little while.” “How long is a little while? I want Mommy right now, can I have her?” Lily held onto Ryan’s hand and asked carefully: “All the kids at school have moms. I’m the only one who doesn’t. They say I’m an unwanted kid that nobody loves. “Their moms pick them up after school, make them delicious food, and knit them pretty sweaters. “Daddy, Lily really, really wants a Mommy too. “I promise, I’ll listen to Mommy and won’t make her mad…” Lily was crying so hard she could barely catch her breath. And all of this, I could only watch through the camera, unable to do a single thing. Five years ago. Just days after giving birth to Lily, I was called away on an emergency mission to this desert lab. I had watched Lily grow up through a camera lens. Even just hugging my own daughter had become an impossible luxury. My heart clenched in pain, as if it was soaking in saltwater, bitterly agonizing. 3 Lily tightly held onto Ryan’s hand, refusing to let go. Her thin wrist slipped out from her sleeve, revealing a patch of skin covered in purple bruises. My heart suddenly seized. “What happened here? Did someone at school bully you?” Ryan had also noticed the bruises on Lily’s arm. But this time, Lily stopped talking. “Tell Daddy, who bullied you?” Lily just cried, refusing to speak. Ryan was about to grab his phone to call her homeroom teacher. Lily panicked: “Don’t call the teacher! Daddy, it was… it was the other kids. They said I’m a wild kid with no mom, and they all bullied me. “They pinch me. It hurts. But… when other kids get hurt, their moms comfort them. I don’t have a mom, so I just keep it to myself.” A surge of fury ignited in my chest. I couldn’t believe that kindergarteners already knew how to isolate and bully others. Looking at Lily’s tiny body and the bruises on her skin, my heart felt like it was being sliced open. Ryan’s face tensed up as he frantically and clumsily applied ointment to her bruises. Right before she fell asleep, Lily asked in a small voice: “Daddy, can you ask Mommy to come back sooner? Please? If I have a Mommy, I won’t be an unwanted kid anymore, and the other kids won’t bully me. I really, really want a friend. “They all say my Mommy is in prison. Is that true? “Is Mommy not coming back because I’m not good enough? “Tell Mommy to come back, Daddy. I promise I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be so good…” With a teardrop hanging from the corner of her eye, Lily drifted into a deep sleep. 4 Hearing those pure, innocent words, a tidal wave of guilt drowned me. Lily was at the prime age of growing up, yet I couldn’t be by her side. I looked at Ryan on the screen. Suddenly, his phone rang, and he hurried to the living room to answer it. It was my mother-in-law calling again. Just like always, she nagged from the other end of the line: “Ryan, why are you still dragging that burden around? I found a great girl from a good family for you. She’s perfect in every way, and she’s never been married. You need to go meet her.” My mother-in-law had a loud, grating voice, constantly pushing Ryan to go on blind dates. “Mom, I’ll say this one more time. Lily is my daughter, not a burden.” Ryan frowned, unhappy with her words. Seeing this, his mother immediately changed her tune: “Okay, okay, okay, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have called the little girl that. “But let’s talk about my daughter-in-law. Can we talk about her?” Ryan was silent. Seeing an opening, she continued: “She disappeared for five years. God knows where she’s fooling around having a good time. Has she thought about this family for even a second?” Ryan’s brows furrowed deeply, and his mother scoffed: “Don’t be in such a rush to argue with me. Am I wrong? If someone dies, there’s a death certificate, right? Even if she went to prison, the police would notify us! But she’s not dead, and she’s not in jail. She just vanished without leaving a single word. “Fooling around outside, abandoning this family. “Because of this mess, the neighbors, relatives, and friends have been gossiping non-stop. At my age, she’s made me lose all my dignity…” “Mom, if you keep talking about Clara like this, I’m hanging up,” Ryan flared up, his voice revealing his exhaustion. “I’ve been looking for her all these years. Maybe she ran into some trouble… Maybe she’ll come back one day. “Stop thinking the worst of her.” His mother wiped her tears (or so she sounded): “I’m thinking the worst of her? “Ryan, who am I playing the bad guy for? Look at yourself. For the past five years, you’ve been playing both mom and dad. You work full-time and take care of the kid. The stray dogs on the street have a better life than you. “As a wife, has she fulfilled even half of her duties? “Look at Lily. The people who know the truth say she has a mom who left right after she was born. Those who don’t? Don’t they just call her a feral child? “Listen to me. Find someone new, declare her mother legally dead. From now on, you’ll have someone to support you, and Lily will have someone to love her. Isn’t that better?” My mother-in-law knew Lily was her son’s weak spot. She reasoned in circles, playing the family card masterfully. Ryan finally sighed: “I’ll think about it.” Seeing he didn’t flat-out refuse, she eagerly emphasized: “The day after tomorrow, remember to clean up a bit… Don’t forget.” 5 Ryan sat in the living room with the lights off. The moonlight fell on his back, making him look exceptionally lonely. He pulled out our wedding photo from a drawer and stared at it for a long time. His face glistened with tears. “Where exactly did you go? I need you, and Lily misses you so much. “I’m so, so tired. I can barely hold on anymore. “Clara, don’t be so cruel… come back.” He murmured to himself in a low voice. The washing machine in the bathroom beeped urgently. He wiped his face and hurried to take the clothes out to hang them up. Then, he boiled a simple bowl of plain noodles. He ate it by himself, not even willing to add an egg to it. After scarfing down his dinner, he opened his daughter’s backpack and checked her homework, word by word. Reading his daughter’s diary, seeing that childish handwriting expressing how much she missed the mother she’d never met, my tears and Ryan’s fell at the exact same time. He worked until the early hours of the morning before finally falling into a deep sleep. Watching Ryan completely exhausted, mumbling in his sleep, my heart broke. If I could, I would comfort him, stay by his side, and tell him I was coming home right away. I turned off the phone. Without realizing it, my face was also covered in cold tears. It had been five years. Every time I saw Ryan and Lily, my heart was torn between family and professional duty. They had suffered too much injustice because of me. Lily, Hubby, just wait for me a little longer. In three more days, I’ll be home. Three days from now, I will personally attend Lily’s Parent-Teacher event. I will tell everyone that Lily has a mother. 6 The project was in its wrap-up phase, just two days from completion. Five years of work was done, and I suddenly had free time. So, unconsciously, I found myself checking the home cameras. “Clara, watching your daughter again?” The lab director, Dr. Harris, walked by and smiled as he greeted me. I didn’t try to hide it, openly letting him look at the little girl on the screen—my daughter, Lily. Since I was using the dedicated military network, this was tacitly allowed by the director. Using this network to view the cameras wouldn’t leave any trace. Two days passed quickly, and my heart suddenly grew tense. Tomorrow was the day the test results would come out, and it was also the day of Lily’s Parent-Teacher event. Right now. She was sitting obediently at the dining table, chewing on her spoon, looking at Ryan with big, hopeful eyes: “Daddy, Mrs. Davis said tomorrow is the Parent-Teacher event.” Ryan’s expression paused, then he took two bites of his food: “Yeah, I know. Daddy will go for you.” Lily bit her lip: “But, Mrs. Davis said it’s best if mommies go…” “It’s the same if I go.” Ryan avoided Lily’s gaze and patted her head. In the past, when he said this, Lily would just obediently stay quiet. But today’s situation was clearly different from what Ryan expected. “Daddy, all the other kids have their mommies going. I’m the only exception. They’re going to call me a weirdo, a wild kid without a mom. They’re definitely going to make fun of me…” Through the monitor, I could instantly see Lily’s sensitive heart. Her personality was very much like mine when I was little. Stubborn and sensitive. This was evident from how she hid the fact that she was being bullied. If this kind of personality wasn’t properly guided and comforted, it could easily turn into paranoia and low self-esteem. Not to mention, Lily was currently in a crucial developmental stage that shapes character. Ryan paused for a long time, his face full of bitterness. Just as he was about to say something, my mother-in-law called: “…How about I go to Lily’s Parent-Teacher event?” My mother-in-law volunteering was a surprise to Ryan. On the other end of the line, she continued: “I’ll go to the event for Lily. Don’t worry about it, just clean yourself up and go on that blind date.” As soon as she finished speaking, Ryan instinctively declined: “Mom, forget it. You’re getting older, it’s not convenient. It’s better if I take Lily.” Hearing this, she got anxious: “Ryan, what is wrong with you? Didn’t you promise you would go?” … My mother-in-law and Ryan argued back and forth, refusing to yield. Just then. Lily’s tiny voice broke the stalemate: “Daddy, Mrs. Davis said tomorrow at the event, parents and kids have to perform a show together…” Hearing this, Ryan seized the opportunity: “Mom, you heard her. Tomorrow requires parents to perform with the kids. “Lily is shy, it’s better if I take her for the performance. Plus, you don’t know how to do those trendy modern shows…” Helpless, his mother had to agree: “Fine, then hurry up and go to the date right after the event is over…” 7 Watching the monitor. My feelings were a bit complicated. To say I wasn’t bothered at all by Ryan going on a blind date would be impossible. But even so, what could I do? I was the one who disappeared for five years. I was the one who left my husband and daughter behind. I was the one who made them suffer so much injustice. A person is judged by their actions, not their thoughts; if judged by thoughts, there would be no saints. Ryan had waited for me for five years. I knew that. Him agreeing now was just to appease his mother. I put down my phone, stood up, and went to the director’s office. “Clara, let’s hear it. What’s up?” “Dr. Harris, once the results are out tomorrow, we should be able to contact the outside world, right?” The director nodded: “Of course.” “Tomorrow, if the experiment is successful, can I be the first to call my family?” I explained, “Tomorrow is my daughter’s Parent-Teacher event at school. I’ve failed as a mother all these years. I want to be there for her as soon as possible.” The director understood what I meant. He looked at me in surprise and asked: “Clara, aren’t you going to attend tomorrow’s press conference?” He advised me with a hint of regret: “Think about it. You lived in this desert incognito for five years. How much did you suffer? How much effort did you put in? For a single test, you’d work for days on end, grabbing a few bites of cold food in between, eating only one or two meals a day. You were a fresh, vibrant young woman when you got here. Look at how exhausted you look now. “Tomorrow you deserve to tell the whole world how much you sacrificed for this project.” I remained silent for a moment: “Dr. Harris, thank you for your support and mentorship. But for me, no matter how many awards I get, no matter how much glory, nothing is as important as seeing my daughter’s smile.” I missed her one-month celebration, her first birthday, her fifth birthday, every Thanksgiving, Christmas, family dinner… Other kids had perfect families, parents to celebrate their birthdays, buying them pretty clothes… But my Lily, she had nothing. I had missed a full five years. But from this day forward, I didn’t want to miss another second. Now, having done my duty to my country, it was time to fulfill my duty as a mother. I wanted to be by her side every single day for the rest of her life. The director didn’t push any further. As a veteran scientist, he understood my sacrifice. “Dr. Harris, is it possible for the organization to arrange a vehicle to take me back tomorrow?” I hesitated for a moment before asking. This desert was extremely remote; there was basically no transportation nearby. Hearing this, the director waved his hand: “You said tomorrow is your daughter’s Parent-Teacher event? “We won’t arrange a car. I’ll contact logistics and clear a helicopter to fly you there. “Leave early, so you can make it in time for the event.” I hurriedly thanked my boss. He reached out and patted my shoulder: “Don’t worry, the organization won’t let down any of its researchers. You’ve had it too hard these past five years. Whatever you need in the future, just ask. If we can accommodate it, we absolutely will.”

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It is a well-known fact among the Manhattan elite that the Upper East Side princess, Sloane Sterling, loves nothing more than to be absolutely unique. Her biggest taboo is anyone sharing even the slightest resemblance to her. Because a bystander carelessly mentioned, “Hey, that waitress’s eyes look a lot like yours,” Sloane ordered her bodyguards to gouge out the waitress’s eyes and push her off a yacht, drowning her alive. And just like that, I lost the only family I had in this world. Later, I became Sloane Sterling’s body double. I wore the replica face she hated most—the face that looked exactly like hers. And I took everything from her. 1 Along with my mother’s corpse came a hush-money check for $500,000. I didn’t even blink as I signed the non-disclosure and settlement agreements. After officiating her funeral, I didn’t waste a second before going on a spending spree. I got extreme plastic surgery. I bought designer clothes. I even enrolled in elite etiquette and arts classes. The neighbors in our run-down apartment building whispered: “Poor Mary. She worked her fingers to the bone raising her daughter, and she raised a cold-blooded sociopath.” I let them talk. I didn’t care. As time passed, my mother’s death faded into background noise. The whispers turned into praise: “Chloe is getting more gorgeous by the day.” “Which clinic did she go to? The surgeon is a genius.” I just smiled and said nothing. This face was molded perfectly to replicate Manhattan’s reigning It-Girl, Sloane Sterling. How could it not be beautiful? 2 A top-tier socialite like Sloane could trend on X just by sneezing. Her toxic, on-and-off romance with Wall Street billionaire heir Carter Harrington was the country’s favorite post-dinner gossip. They were childhood sweethearts. Everyone called them a match made in heaven. But the billionaire heir was a playboy. Scandals surrounded him constantly, causing them to break up and get back together on an endless loop. The most recent drama happened when Carter set his sights on a C-list actress. The actress even got pregnant with his child. Paparazzi photos showed them holding hands, looking deeply in love. But not long after, news broke that the actress had “accidentally” fallen from a penthouse balcony. She died on impact. Two lives, gone. Her death didn’t cause much of a ripple, though. Because the top trending topics that day were: [The Princess Runs Away] [Carter & Sloane Fight Again!] [Place your bets: How long until they make up?] No one cared about the dead actress. Fans were far more focused on the fact that Carter and Sloane had a massive fight. This time, Sloane posted a dramatic story on Instagram. She claimed she was moving to Europe to “find herself” and wouldn’t be returning to the States anytime soon. Some netizens questioned it: “Doesn’t Sloane have modeling contracts lined up? Can she really just ditch them?” Her obsessive fans immediately attacked the critics: “Sorry you’re broke! When you have that much money, you can do whatever you want.” “Other influencers are controlled by capital, but our Queen Sloane is the capital.” “She’s more famous than you’ll ever be. Cry about it.” … Not long after Sloane left for Paris, the internet noticed something. There was a new girl by Carter Harrington’s side. And this girl had a face that looked 80% identical to Sloane Sterling’s. This time, the internet was strangely calm: “Oh, look. Clone #18 has arrived.” Every time Carter and Sloane broke up, a new woman would appear by his side shortly after. And every single one of them shared a resemblance to Sloane. The gossip blogs affectionately called these girls “The Clones.” They even gave them serial numbers. To the public, these stand-ins were ultimate proof of Carter’s undying love for Sloane. After all… He loved the clones because they looked like her. But she was the original. “Carter is so extra (facepalm)…” “He’s too proud to chase her to Paris, so he pulls this stunt every time.” “But you gotta admit, Clone #18 looks EXACTLY like Sloane. Where does he even find them?” Of course I looked like her. I clung to Carter’s arm, leaning against his chest like a fragile little bird. I had suffered immensely for this face. My mother’s eyes were naturally similar to Sloane’s. But I didn’t just want the eyes. I matched her jawline. I went through agonizing micro-adjustments for my nose and lips. To ensure Carter’s background checks wouldn’t reveal I intentionally altered my face to approach him, I didn’t dare go to legitimate hospitals. I went to underground, black-market clinics. Risking severe infections, disfigurement, or dying on the operating table, I spent three years and triple the money to carve this face out, millimeter by millimeter. It was my entry ticket into his world. How could I not look like her? 3 I quickly got my own dedicated subreddit. [r/HasClone18BeenFiredYet] Of course, this wasn’t an exclusive honor. My 17 predecessors all had their own threads, created by bored Carter-Sloane shippers. Carter was a man who got bored easily. The longest a clone had ever lasted was 25 days. The shortest was a mere three days. So, the fans checked the subreddit daily. They kept a log of the new stand-in, placing bets on how long I would last by Carter’s side. Most bet I wouldn’t make it past a month. A few outliers had higher hopes: “Maybe this one will break the one-month curse? She seriously looks exactly like our Queen.” Even so, the absolute maximum prediction was three months. No one expected me to be a survivor. One of me was better than all seventeen combined. One month passed; I was still there. Three months passed; still there. Six months; still there. Ten months passed… Carter Harrington announced our engagement. The internet exploded. 4 Sloane Sterling booked an overnight first-class flight and flew straight back to New York. The night before she landed. Carter held me in his arms, his fingers lazily tracing the contours of my face. “You know what to say and what not to say tomorrow, right?” I nodded obediently, cheerfully said, “I know!”, and thoughtfully began picking out the suit he would wear to meet Sloane the next day. When news of our engagement broke, 99% of the internet cursed my name. A tiny fraction guessed the truth: this was just Carter’s ultimate tactic to provoke Sloane. Unfortunately for the haters, that tiny fraction was right. Sloane hadn’t returned to the States in nearly a year. The billionaire heir lost his patience and orchestrated this entire spectacle. And from the very beginning, I played along perfectly. After all, there was a reason I lasted by Carter’s side this long. Besides the face, it was my absolute, unwavering submission. I mean absolute submission. The kind with zero trace of self-respect. Carter liked competitive gaming. I spent hours practicing games I had never heard of, just so I could be his perfect duo partner every night. Carter liked fresh walnuts. I cracked them by hand for him until my fingernails chipped and my fingertips bled. Carter was a borderline alcoholic. To help him break the habit, I matched him drink for drink. My body, which had never touched alcohol before, was forced to down two bottles of neat bourbon. I ended up in the ER with a bleeding ulcer, nearly dying. After that, Carter rarely touched liquor. He even quit smoking. His frat-boy friends’ attitudes toward me completely shifted. At first, they just saw me as Carter’s disposable toy. They would tease me and use me for their amusement. But gradually, they couldn’t stand it anymore. “Carter, man, Chloe is a really good girl. Stop messing with her head.” Faced with their advice, Carter just pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Keep out of my business.” One of the rich playboys joked: “Hey Carter, whenever you get bored of her, let me know. I wouldn’t mind taking her off your hands.” He reached out and sleazily grabbed my waist. Carter’s face went dark. He smashed a beer bottle over the guy’s head. Then, he pinned down the hand that had touched me and stomped on it until the bones cracked. You see, after all this time, I actually held some weight in Carter’s heart. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have dared to play a cheesy rom-com on the living room TV in front of him— A show where the male lead fakes an engagement with the side-chick to make the female lead jealous. The female lead crashes the wedding, they confess their love, clear the misunderstanding, and she puts on the dress meant for her. Happily ever after. The billionaire heir was a fast learner. He copied the script flawlessly. Now, the male lead and the side-chick were in position. We were just waiting for the female lead to fly home. The show was about to begin. 5 Sloane returned, and the elite circle threw her a lavish welcome-home party at a VIP club. In the private booth… I sat on Carter’s lap, caged in his arms. He knew I hated places like this. He knew I despised PDA. He knew that ever since my stomach ulcer, I couldn’t touch a single drop of alcohol. Yet, he forced a full glass of red wine into my hands, demanding I feed it to him mouth-to-mouth in front of everyone. All because sitting directly across from us was Sloane Sterling. I lowered my eyes and did as I was told. Before our lips could even touch, a sharp pain erupted at the back of my head. Sloane grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanked me off Carter, and shoved me hard onto the floor. The wine glass shattered. Shards of glass pierced my palms. Blood and red wine bloomed together across my white dress. Carter didn’t even glance at me. Instead, the corners of his lips curled up. He looked lazily at Sloane. “Can I help you, Miss Sterling? I’m kissing my fiancé. I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” His tone was dripping with sarcastic provocation. Sloane’s eyes instantly went red. “Fine, Carter. You win. I admit I can’t let you go. Are you happy now?” Carter’s smile deepened. Before he could speak, Sloane continued: “I know you’re doing this just to trigger me. But you know I hate nothing more than being compared to others. Why would you use this filthy, low-class trash to provoke me? A stand-in? She’s not even worthy of shining my shoes!” With that, she burst into tears and ran out of the club. The guys around us laughed. “Carter, you played too hard. The car flipped.” “Better go chase your girl back, man.” Carter clicked his tongue in annoyance, but he still stood up and chased after Sloane. The whole room erupted into roaring laughter, like they had just watched a spectacular comedy. Everyone knew Carter was just using me. No one doubted his love for Sloane. And absolutely no one believed he was actually going to marry me. From start to finish, I was nothing but a clown. A disposable prop. Amidst the laughter, I slowly stood up. My face was perfectly calm as I addressed the room: “Excuse me. I’ll be taking my leave.” The laughter died down a bit. They seemed to just remember I was still in the room. I didn’t bother looking at their reactions. I turned and left without looking back. 6 Leaving the club, I went straight to a cheap, run-down motel. I stayed there for three days. For three days, I mostly just slept. I ordered takeout when I woke up. It was incredibly relaxing. On the third day, Carter finally found me. He looked terrible. His hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot, and he had a heavy shadow of stubble. He was still wearing the same suit from the club. I appropriately showed a look of shock, then seamlessly transitioned into my usual, gentle smile. “What brings you here? How are things with Miss Sterling? Did you guys talk it out?” Carter ignored all my questions. He stared at me intensely, his eyes like a starving wolf about to devour its prey. “Why didn’t you come home for three days?” His voice was hoarse, laced with a dangerous edge. I took a step back, furrowing my brows slightly. “Miss Sterling is back. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to stay at the penthouse anymore.” Carter froze, his irritation spiking. “What the fuck does that mean?” I continued, polite and obedient: “Don’t worry, I won’t cling to you. I’ll go pack up my things from the villa in a few days. I’ll make sure it’s completely spotless so Miss Sterling doesn’t have to look at anything that upsets her.” Carter stared at me, looking absolutely in disbelief. “Chloe. Are you saying you want to break up with me?” Faced with his question, I frowned deeply and spoke slowly: “Miss Sterling is back. Shouldn’t we break up?” “Don’t even think about it!” Carter snapped. He stepped forward instinctively, his hand clamping down on my wrist like a vice. His grip was so brutal I thought my bones would shatter. I gasped in pain. Carter didn’t loosen his grip at all. Instead, he yanked me violently into his chest. He looked down at me, his eyes burning red: “I didn’t say we’re breaking up. Who gave you the right to make that decision?” Even a clay doll has a breaking point. Push a rabbit too far, and it bites. My eyes filled with tears. I looked up at him: “You two are getting back together! Why should I stay? To be the mistress in your relationship? Carter, I haven’t degraded myself to that level yet.” Carter paused. Clearly, he had never considered what to do with me once Sloane returned. But his inherent arrogance quickly provided an answer. “So what if you’re the mistress? Do you think I can’t afford to keep you? Just stay by my side and be good. I won’t treat you badly.” SLAP— I backhanded him across the face with everything I had. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I looked at him in total disbelief. “Carter, you bastard! Is that all I am to you? Some cheap whore?” I stared at him stubbornly. “Do you think I’ll die if I leave you? Do you think I have no dignity, no feelings?! What gives you the right to humiliate me like this? Let me tell you something. Everything I did for you, I did because I fell in love with you. Because you were in my heart! I did it all willingly. Not because I’m some pathetic lapdog with no boundaries. You rejected me a thousand times, and I still had the courage to walk toward you. But since you’ve found your true love, my pride won’t let me take another step forward. Carter, we shouldn’t see each other anymore. For you, for me, and for Miss Sterling, it’s…” Before I could finish, his massive frame pressed me against the wall. His face was terrifyingly dark. Ignoring my struggles, he pulled off his silk tie and ruthlessly bound my wrists together. “Chloe—” It was a term of endearment, but his voice was absolute zero. “I’ve spoiled you too much. I let you get so bold you think you can defy me. It looks like I need to teach you a lesson.” … 7 I was placed under house arrest. Carter watched me like a hawk, barely leaving my side. For an entire month, he treated me with a tenderness he had never shown before. Limitless haute couture and luxury goods flowed into the penthouse like water. Mansions and sports cars were transferred into my name without him batting an eye. He dropped his arrogant billionaire persona and started coddling me, caring for my every need. “Chloe, think about it. If you leave me, could you ever live a life this good?” … He didn’t suddenly learn to respect me. He just wanted to use a gilded cage to trap me, hoping I’d willingly become his nameless, hidden canary. I looked at him coldly, refusing to yield an inch. “Is this fun for you, Carter? Planning a wedding with Sloane on one side, and refusing to let me go on the other?” That’s right. Carter and Sloane were officially getting married. The internet shippers were throwing digital parades. As for me, the “ex-fiancé,” I was naturally cyberbullied into oblivion. “Carter, let me go. I—mmph!” He had clearly decided to marry Sloane. But every time I mentioned leaving, Carter would violently rip off his gentle facade and expose his brutal nature. He would ruthlessly bite my lips, not caring if they bled, just to swallow all the words I was trying to say. “Chloe, do not test my patience.” His eyes were ice cold. I met him with stubborn silence. But inside, I was laughing. I laughed because Carter couldn’t understand me, and he couldn’t understand himself. He hadn’t even realized it. These past few weeks, he had spent vastly more time with me than he had with Sloane. He even used “work” as an excuse to skip the most important event: wedding dress shopping with her. In reality, on the day he told Sloane he was busy, my period had “coincidentally” arrived early. Carter stayed with me all day. He bought me painkillers, brewed me ginger tea, and used his large, warm hands to soothe my cramps. It wasn’t until he finally coaxed me to sleep that he found the time to call Sloane. When he said the words “I’m busy” over the phone, I let out a soft, sleepy whimper beside him. I know Sloane heard it. With her ego, how could she possibly sit still? If before, she only hated my face because it mocked hers, in that moment, she must have realized I was completely different from all the “Clones” before me. This was the very first time Carter Harrington lied and brushed her off for another woman. And he did it on the day she was trying on her wedding dress. I knew she was feeling an unprecedented level of panic. And she absolutely wouldn’t take it lying down.

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Because I work on a highly classified government research project, I always tell my family I’m just a high school science teacher. When I went home for the holidays, my snobby relatives lectured me: “What’s the point of being a high school teacher? You should be like Chloe’s advisor, the youngest tenured professor at Columbia. That’s where the real future is.” …Wait a minute. Your precious Chloe, doesn’t she call me “Mrs. Professor”? 01. After three grueling years of research, my classified government project finally reached a major milestone. With the holidays approaching, I decided to head back to my hometown a bit early. To surprise my mom, I didn’t call ahead. I just lugged my suitcase straight to our front porch. Just as I got to the door, someone was walking out of my house. “Oh… hey there, Claire! You’re back!” I stared at my Aunt Susan, who was awkwardly hugging a brand-new blender. I was confused but politely said hello. She guiltily tried to hide the blender behind her back and gave an awkward laugh. “I just came to borrow something. It’s nothing, I’ll get going now.” She practically jogged a few steps down the driveway before turning around, feigning helpfulness. “By the way, your mom isn’t home today. You should probably give her a call.” I walked into the house, feeling more suspicious by the second. That blender looked exactly like the one I bought for my mom a few weeks ago. “Mom, Aunt Susan just came over to borrow the blender. Did you know about this?” I called my mom. She sounded surprised, then let out a helpless sigh. “She came over a couple of days ago and mentioned she wanted to borrow it. I guess she just came and took it.” I frowned. “Mom, did you still not change the keypad code for the front door?” “Your aunts told me since I live alone, it’s good for them to know the code in case of an emergency. So I just… left it.” I bought my mom that new blender specifically because my other aunt took the old one! A terrible premonition washed over me. I quickly scanned the house. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The espresso machine, the Le Creuset Dutch oven, the KitchenAid mixer… even the nice coffee mugs I bought her were gone! When I asked, she casually mentioned they were all “borrowed” by my various aunts. Wow. Are my relatives playing a game of Raid the House? “They’re family, Claire. If they took it, they took it. Let it go…” I wanted to cry but had no tears. I felt incredibly guilty. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me earlier?” “It’s just small stuff, what’s there to talk about? I rarely use those things anyway. Forget it.” My clueless mom finally realized something else. “Wait a minute, Claire, you’re home?!” 02. With my mom trying to keep the peace, I had to swallow my frustration about the “borrowed” appliances. She values her relationships with her sisters a lot, and I didn’t want to break her heart. I went online, ordered a whole new set of kitchen appliances, and practically forced my mom to change the door code. “You can’t just let people walk into the house whenever they want. It’s dangerous.” My mom sighed. “This is all because you’re never home.” “You say you’re a teacher, but other teachers get summer and winter breaks! You only come back for a few days around Christmas!” My national research project had top-secret security clearance, which was why I always told my family I was just a teacher. In the past, the project schedule was insanely tight. I’d rush home for Christmas dinner and leave almost immediately after. I hugged my mom and cooed, “Don’t worry, Mom. This time I’m staying as long as you want. I’ll stay until you’re sick of me!” My mom finally smiled. After cuddling with her for a bit, I went to my room to unpack. My phone buzzed with a new message. Professor Davis: “Not at the lab today?” Oh, crap! I completely forgot I had a boyfriend. “I went home.” Fearing that sounded ambiguous, I added, “Back to my hometown.” Professor Davis: “?” Just one question mark, but I could vividly picture him slightly raising his eyes, that deep gaze carrying an innocent yet undeniable pressure. Uh, what was I supposed to say right now? I froze. Thankfully, my mom yelled for me from the living room, giving me an out. “My mom’s calling me, gotta go!” Thinking for a second, I added: “See you after the holidays.” I let out a sigh of relief, dropped my phone, and sprinted out of the room. My mom was sitting on the couch, waving me over. “Your Aunt Brenda knows you came back early this year. She said she wants to introduce you to a nice young man. She wants you to grab lunch with him tomorrow.” 03. I was stunned. “Here’s his contact info. I’ll text it to you. You guys should chat first.” Seeing my mom about to send a stranger’s profile to my phone, I grabbed her hand. “Mom, I am not going on a blind date.” My mom wasn’t surprised. She easily pulled her hand away. “I’m not trying to pressure you, Claire, but you’re pushing thirty. It’s not good to not have someone to take care of you. “I’m not forcing you to marry the guy. Just chat with him. If it doesn’t work out, don’t force it.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I stopped her hand again. “No, Mom, seriously. I have a boyfriend.” Now it was my mom’s turn to be shocked. “Where did you get a boyfriend?” Her expression was so incredulous that it made me doubt if I even deserved to have one. “He’s a colleague at the university. We just started dating two months ago.” “He’s a teacher too? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?” My mom immediately went into interrogation mode: “What’s his name?” I puffed out my chest. “Liam Davis. He’s incredibly handsome. He could easily be a Hollywood actor!” “What kind of guy is he? Where is he from?” I blinked. “Uh… I forgot to ask. I think he’s from New York?” “What do his parents do? Does he have siblings?” I smiled awkwardly. “I… I haven’t asked that yet.” My mom asked a few more basic questions about Liam, and I couldn’t answer a single one. The atmosphere grew tense. We stared at each other. She sighed, putting on an “I see right through you” expression. “You just don’t want to go on the blind date, so you’re lying to your mother, aren’t you?” “No, Mom, I swear…” “Forget it. Tomorrow at lunch, I’m saying yes for you. You have to go.” 04. That night, I lay in bed, staring blankly at my chat with Liam. My relationship with Liam was entirely transactional. We had absolutely no emotional foundation. We were both getting older; he needed a girlfriend to get his family off his back, and I had been single my entire life of nearly thirty years, so in a moment of impulse… Plus, when Liam proposed we date, he explicitly said that if I found someone more suitable in the future, we could end it whenever I wanted. Thinking about this, I texted Liam: “Professor Davis, would you mind if I went on a blind date?” “?” Liam replied almost instantly, short and to the point: “I would mind.” He was a man of few words, known at Columbia University for being refined, aloof, and very difficult to approach. “Hahaha. I’m just kidding.” I tried to laugh it off. Liam coldly replied with a simple, “Ok.” Although I could sense his dissatisfaction, in the end, I didn’t go to the blind date lunch. I told Aunt Brenda I already had a boyfriend who was also a teacher. Aunt Brenda made a huge fuss on the phone: “The guy I’m introducing you to, Kevin, is a regional manager at a big tech company! He makes $200,000 a year. What kind of teacher can compare to that?” Uh, Liam’s speaking fee for a single international seminar is probably more than that. “Kevin is five years older than you. He’s at the perfect age to know how to spoil a woman, and he’s not bad-looking either. It’s your loss if you don’t meet him.” Kevin wasn’t ugly, but comparing him to Liam was an absolute insult to Liam. “Aunt Brenda, my boyfriend isn’t… worse than Kevin. Please, don’t worry about me.” Aunt Brenda clearly didn’t believe me and started lecturing me: “Claire, with your background, I had to cash in a lot of favors just to get Kevin to agree to meet you. Don’t act all high and mighty and treat people like they’re beneath you. “You need to think about your age! By the time a woman hits thirty, having kids gets risky! Aunt Brenda is only saying this for your own good!” “…” Her barrage of words made my head spin. I barely managed to keep my polite composure until I hung up. I never expected that at the annual family holiday dinner, they would be even more ruthless to my face. 05. Early the next morning, before I even got enough sleep, I was woken up by a racket outside my room. Aunt Brenda, Aunt Susan, a few other relatives, and several loud kids of varying ages were gathered in the living room, laughing and making a mess. I opened my bedroom door in my pajamas, instantly becoming the center of attention. Aunt Susan, whom I had only seen briefly the day before, immediately started her passive-aggressive routine: “Wow, it’s so late, Claire is finally awake.” I awkwardly greeted everyone one by one. My eyes swept over a pretty, twenty-something girl standing at the back, and I paused. Noticing this, Aunt Brenda quickly grabbed the girl’s arm. “Chloe, come here. This is your cousin Claire.” Chloe was stunningly gorgeous. She gave me a dismissive nod. “Cousin.” My impression of this younger cousin was stuck in a memory from over a decade ago. I gave a stiff nod back. I intended to retreat to my room after saying hello, but Aunt Brenda decided to use me as a conversation starter. “Claire, our Chloe is studying in New York now too. You guys should hang out when you have free time.” I politely asked, “Oh really? Which university?” Aunt Brenda, waiting for exactly that question, puffed out her chest. “At Columbia. She’s a grad student.” They waited for a look of awe to appear on my face, but my reaction was flat. “Oh. Well, if you ever need anything in New York, just let me know.” I don’t know what I said wrong, but Aunt Brenda’s face instantly fell, and Chloe started sizing me up. She even let out a soft scoff, her eyes seemingly saying, “How exactly could you help me?” I looked innocent. Aunt Susan chimed in: “Columbia is an Ivy League, top-tier university. Claire, you’re just a high school teacher. You’ll probably be the one asking Chloe for favors in the future.” When I told my mom I was a teacher at a “higher education institution,” she must have misunderstood and told everyone I was a high school teacher. These relatives had no idea I was actually an associate professor at Columbia. I didn’t care about the misunderstanding, so I just brushed it off. “Well then, please look out for me in the future, Cousin Chloe.” I turned to go back to my room. Through the door, I could still hear Aunt Brenda’s loud voice: “Chloe, don’t aim low like your cousin. When you become a teacher, you have to be at least a full professor.” Me: “???” 06. The whole group headed to a restaurant for lunch. On the way, my mom, Aunt Susan, and I shared a car. “Sarah, I’m so sorry, I forgot to return that blender I borrowed the other day.” Aunt Susan put on a fake apologetic face. “I saw you bought a new one for your kitchen. So the old one…” Before my mom could even speak, I cut in with a bright smile: “Aunt Susan, you can just return it when you have time. I actually need a blender for my apartment in New York.” Aunt Susan froze on the spot. I continued, “You can keep using it for now. I’ll pick it up before I head back to the city.” “Oh… okay. Okay.” In the dim light of the car, my mom shot me a scolding glare, but she didn’t say anything. For the rest of the ride, Aunt Susan looked incredibly uncomfortable and didn’t speak again. The moment we got out of the car, she couldn’t wait to run over to Aunt Brenda. The two of them huddled together, whispering. Nearby, Chloe shot me another look of pure disdain. “I heard Claire got a boyfriend? What does he do? Why didn’t you bring him back to show us?” At the dinner table, Aunt Susan opened fire on me like she was seeking revenge. I looked up at her. “He’s a teacher too. He went back to his hometown.” Aunt Brenda immediately put on a pretentious, lecturing tone: “What’s the point of being a high school teacher? You should be like Chloe’s advisor, the youngest tenured professor at Columbia. That’s where the real future is.” The youngest tenured professor at Columbia? Isn’t that Liam? I was confused. I heard Aunt Brenda boasting, “Chloe, what’s your advisor’s name again? How does he treat you?” Chloe put on a bashful, girlish demeanor. “Professor Liam Davis is the best advisor I’ve ever had. Since he found out we’re from the same hometown, he takes special care of me…” Hearing that name, I swallowed hard and glanced at my mom, who looked completely lost. The other aunts started making a fuss: “Oh my, Chloe, does the professor have feelings for you?” “A college romance between a professor and a student is totally normal. If you like him, Chloe, just be bold.” “Wait, is this Professor Davis from our town?” Liam is from my hometown? I didn’t even know that! I stared in shock at Chloe, who looked incredibly flushed and shy. I genuinely doubted if there were two professors named Liam Davis at Columbia. At that moment, a waiter opened the private dining room door to bring in the food, and a figure walked past the hallway. Chloe, who happened to look up, froze. She immediately yelled out toward the hall, “Professor Davis!” The entire room fell dead silent. Chloe excitedly jumped up and ran toward the door. I stared blankly in that direction, completely unprepared as my eyes locked with the person outside. LIAM!!! 07. I looked shocked, but Liam’s gaze and expression were impossibly calm. As Chloe ran up to him, he casually withdrew his gaze from me. “Professor Davis, what a coincidence! Are you eating here too?” The door to the private room was wide open, and Chloe’s voice clearly carried to everyone inside. “Yes.” Liam’s coldness was obvious. He shifted his feet, clearly preparing to leave. Chloe acted like she didn’t notice. She raised her hand to tuck a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear and continued talking to him in a sickly-sweet voice: “It’s almost the holidays, so I came out to eat with my family. We just got here.” “I’m not interested in your personal life.” Liam shifted his feet again, but before he could take a step, he was stopped by Chloe’s persistent chatter. “Professor Davis, then you…” I had been staring at Liam the whole time. Seeing his awkward leg movements trying to escape, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. Well, that was it. Everyone in the room simultaneously turned to look at me. I immediately covered my mouth, waved my hand at the two people by the door, and offered an apologetic smile: “Sorry, sorry. Please, continue. Carry on.” Liam’s gaze landed on me, and it felt distinctly chilly. He let out a light scoff, and this time, he finally walked away cleanly. “Wait, Professor Davis…” Chloe called out frantically but got no response. Seeing Liam walk far away, her face darkened, and she stormed back into the private room. “Cousin Claire, what is your problem?” I was bewildered, looking at the suddenly furious Chloe, completely lost. “I was having a perfectly nice conversation with Professor Davis, and you intentionally made a noise to interrupt us. What exactly are your intentions?” Me: ???

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When the school gave the coveted Ivy League Endorsement to the girl who bullied me, I completely stopped caring. State Physics Olympiad? Hard pass. Valedictorian speech? Nope. Statewide Honors Assessments? I handed in blank Scantrons! When the Chairman of the School Board came to inspect and specifically requested an audience with me? Oh, I definitely showed up for that. I walked right onto the stage and snitched: “Dad, the school is rigging the system.” 01 After the mock exam results came out, I proudly took the number one spot in the junior class with a near-perfect score. But what awaited me wasn’t congratulations, but the mocking gazes of my classmates. My homeroom teacher, Mr. Harris, called me to his office based on my transcript. Going in with me was Chloe Miller, the Vice Principal’s daughter. Seeing me, she shot me a provocative glare. The AC in the office was blasting warm air. Mr. Harris waited for us to sit down before cutting straight to the chase: “The Ivy League Endorsement has been decided.” His eyes drifted between the two of us, then he smiled and extended a hand toward Chloe: “Congratulations.” I waited expressionlessly for him to finish, then asked, “What about me?” Mr. Harris’s smile froze. “Taylor, I called you here to help you process this. I know you study incredibly hard, and you’ve won plenty of honors over the last three years. But your academic foundation is already rock solid, whereas Chloe…” I finished his sentence for him: “Whereas Chloe has average grades, bullies her classmates, and preys on the weak.” Mr. Harris: “…” Chloe flared up: “Taylor, what kind of bullshit are you spewing? Did I not teach you enough of a lesson last time?!” I shot her a cold glance. Her so-called “lesson” involved having her clique lock me in the bathroom, putting bugs and dead mice in my desk, and stealing my textbooks and throwing them in the dumpster. It wasn’t like Mr. Harris didn’t know about this. I pointed at her arrogant, entitled face. “Even with her like this, the Endorsement still goes to her?” 02 Looking embarrassed, Mr. Harris shot Chloe a warning look, then turned back to pacify me: “With your grades, you can get into any top-tier university in the country. But…” I interrupted him: “Didn’t the school bulletin state that the Endorsement prioritizes the number one student in the mocks?” Mr. Harris furrowed his brows. “That’s what it says, but you don’t really need the extra boost from the Endorsement, do you?” No, I did need it. Before high school started, I made a bet with my dad. If I secured the Ivy League Endorsement on my own merits, I wouldn’t have to study finance and could major in music instead. I refocused my gaze on Mr. Harris. “Over the last three years, I’ve won five national awards, sixteen state-level awards, and countless school honors. I consistently rank first in every single exam. Even with all that, the Endorsement still goes to her?” Mr. Harris instantly began sweating bullets, his lips moving but no words coming out. Chloe glared at me, raising her voice: “Are you annoying or what? He spelled it out for you! It’s just one recommendation. If you piss me off, I can make sure you never hold your head up in this town again!” I ignored her, staring fixedly at Mr. Harris. Until he finally snapped impatiently: “Rules are dead, but people are alive. The spot is finalized and can’t be changed. You should just focus on scoring a few extra points on the SATs. It makes no real difference.” I nodded, pulled my gaze away, and turned to leave. As I walked out, Chloe chased after me and called out: “Taylor! Some people are born on third base, and some strike out. If you want to blame someone, blame your dad for being a nobody!” 03 Walking out of the office, I pulled out my phone and called my “nobody” father. He didn’t pick up. A moment later, my dad texted me: “Just arrived at the embassy in DC. What’s up, my precious daughter?” I chuckled dryly and typed back: “Nothing.” I guess we were just mules to some people. My dad immediately transferred $5,000 into my account, adding: “Studying is hard work. Take this and treat yourself to some good food. Daddy has to go into a meeting. I’ll bring you souvenirs when I get back!” The warning bell rang. The moment I stepped into the classroom, I heard Chloe’s exaggerated laughter ringing out: “Ugh, it’s just an Ivy Endorsement, it’s not even a big deal.” The sycophants hovering around her looked at me with their noses in the air. “Of course it’s a big deal! It’s the spot certain people would kill for.” “Right? So what if she gets good grades? She still couldn’t beat our Chloe.” I sat down and prepped for class, acting as if I hadn’t heard a thing. After class, when Mr. Harris called me over to his desk, I walked right past him, deaf to his voice. He grabbed my arm, leaned in close, and said displeased: “Next Friday is the State Physics Olympiad. You’re going to represent the school. This is a state-level competition, and it concerns the school’s prestige. Prepare well this week. If you have questions, go see the physics teacher…” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was just enough for the whole classroom to hear. I gave him a passing glance and casually pulled my arm out of his grip. Then, using a much louder voice, I said: “I’m not going.” 04 The rest of Mr. Harris’s words caught in his throat. His small eyes behind his glasses widened in utter shock, looking as if he’d seen a ghost. It wasn’t just him; the rest of the class was stunned, too. “Is Taylor off her meds?” “Didn’t she use to love these competitions? Wherever there was a spotlight, she was there. What’s wrong with her now?” “Oh—I get it. She didn’t get the Endorsement, so she’s deliberately rebelling against the teacher.” “Tch, who does she think she is? Does she really think she can threaten him?” Mr. Harris snapped back to reality, his frown deepening. “Our school only gets one spot for this Olympiad. If you don’t go, who will?” I leaned against the wall. “Whoever wants it can take it.” “Taylor, this isn’t just about you! It’s about bringing glory to the school!” I rolled my eyes. “Who cares?” Mr. Harris: “…” His fingers were shaking with rage. “Taylor! Have I not prioritized you for every single competition? I gave you so many opportunities, and this is how you repay me?!” I almost wanted to applaud his thick skin. Just then, Chloe strutted over arrogantly. “Mr. Harris, if she doesn’t want to go, let me. I only dropped five points in the physics section of the mocks. I practice AP problems all the time. I can handle it.” Mr. Harris nodded. “Chloe is always so dependable. I knew I wasn’t wrong about you.” He then shot me a dirty look. “An ungrateful brat who bites the hand that feeds her.” 05 Once Mr. Harris left, Chloe glared at me viciously. I looked back at her, my expression blank and breezy. She frowned. “What’s with that look? You looking down on me?” Before I could answer, she sneered, “Don’t think you’re all that. It’s just a little physics competition. I’ll definitely place higher than you ever could.” Since I didn’t have a competition to prep for, my weekend freed up, and I finally went home for a visit. Only my sister-in-law, Jenna, was in the living room playing with my nephew. Seeing me, she asked in surprise: “Taylor? Aren’t you prepping for the Olympiad?” I shook my head, confused. “Jenna, how did you know about the competition?” “The State Physics Olympiad is tomorrow. I was invited by the Board to proctor the exam.” Jenna explained, then paused as if struck by an idea. “Since you’re home, why don’t you come with me?” “What would I do there?” “Don’t you want to try your hand at the paper? I heard they introduced two new problem types this year. It’s supposed to be brutally hard.” I was instantly intrigued. Besides music, my biggest passion was cracking impossible logic puzzles. That feeling of clearing the fog fascinated me. So the next day, I went to the testing center with Jenna. After the exam officially started, she cleared out a spare office for me to take the test. Right as the clock neared the end, Jenna pushed the door open, fuming, and slammed her keys onto the desk. My train of thought broke. I looked up. “What happened?” Jenna ran a hand through her hair. “Nothing major. Just a girl caught cheating.” I frowned. “Did you disqualify her?” “Not yet. It’s a tricky situation, and I didn’t want to disrupt the other students. I just took down her candidate number and I’ll report it later.” Jenna said casually, then picked up my fully answered test booklet. “Done?” “Pretty much.” Jenna took my paper. “Great. I have a meeting later, so I’ll drop this off with the grading committee while I’m at it. If you’re bored, just call an Uber and head home first.” 06 I walked out of the testing center and ran straight into Chloe and Mr. Harris. Mr. Harris took this Olympiad very seriously. He had personally escorted her to the exam, accompanied by several of her lackeys. They were laughing and chatting by the entrance, practically blocking half the doors. I had barely stepped out before they spotted me. Seeing me, they swarmed over like stray dogs spotting a bone. “Taylor, what are you doing here?” “I knew it. Talked a big game about not competing, but you’re actually dying of regret inside.” “Of course she is! First prize is ten thousand bucks. That’s enough to feed a broke bitch like Taylor for a whole year.” Mr. Harris didn’t stop their mocking. Instead, he reprimanded me: “I gave you a chance and you didn’t take it. What are you doing stalking us now?” I frowned. “Stalking?” Chloe demanded, “Yeah! Otherwise, how did you know the testing center was here?” I replied, “None of your damn business.” Chloe flared up. “I’m trying to be nice, don’t push it!” “Get lost,” I said. Her lackeys quickly jumped in to smooth things over. “Chloe, don’t sink to her level! She’s just jealous of you!” I glanced at the lackey and said flatly, “You get lost, too.” “…” Seeing that a fight was about to break out, Mr. Harris finally intervened. “Alright, enough of this. Chloe, how do you think you did?” Chloe’s furious expression instantly flipped into smug triumph. “I think I nailed it. The questions were super easy, and I finished way early. Getting first place shouldn’t be a problem!” 07 Her lackeys put on exaggerated looks of awe. “Wow, I knew you were the smartest, Chloe!” Mr. Harris’s eyebrows practically flew off his forehead. He patted Chloe’s shoulder excitedly. “I heard they added new problem types this year. Even Taylor wouldn’t have been guaranteed first place. Having this much confidence—you really make me proud!” Chloe smiled. “Mr. Harris, how could Taylor even compare to me?” She paused, then added in a dramatic, mocking tone: “After all, she’s just a sore loser.” I took a deep breath, turned around, and prepared to leave. Chloe’s mocking voice grew louder: “Taylor, running away already? Weren’t you acting tough just a second ago?” I let out an “Oh,” and said expressionlessly, “I don’t compare myself to livestock. It’s bad for my health.” Chloe: “…” I don’t know what she told her Vice Principal daddy when she got home. During the morning assembly the following week, Vice Principal Miller gripped the microphone and passionately praised Chloe: “Chloe Miller from the Senior AP class achieved absolutely outstanding results in the State Physics Olympiad! Let’s give her an early round of applause!” Thunderous applause erupted across the school. Her dad took the opportunity to drag my name through the mud: “Furthermore, I want to criticize a certain student who thinks she is above it all. She put her personal ego above the school’s honor, completely disregarding…” Before he could finish, a black SUV abruptly pulled up outside the gates behind the football field. Three men in sharp suits stepped out and strode onto the field. 08 Mr. Harris recognized them instantly. His eyes gleaming, he whispered to Vice Principal Miller: “They’re from the Olympiad Ethics Committee!” Hearing this, Vice Principal Miller immediately dropped the microphone, plastered on a desperate smile, and rushed forward. “Ah, you must be the officials from the State Board! Welcome to our campus.” The three men shook his hand with cool detachment. The lead investigator spoke up: “We are members of the Olympiad Ethics and Grading Committee. We came to your school today to find someone.” Because the microphone was still on, their conversation faintly reached the ears of the student body. Miller, perhaps intentionally, flushed red with excitement. “Who are you looking for?” “Chloe Miller.” Miller put on a ‘just as I thought’ expression and roared into the microphone: “Chloe! Come up here, quick!” Chloe puffed out her chest and proudly marched over to Miller’s side under the gaze of the entire school. As she walked past me, she let out a cold snort. The three men confirmed her identity, then announced: “The results of yesterday’s Physics Olympiad have been finalized. Regarding the student Chloe Miller, we…” Before they could finish, Miller interrupted them, unable to hide his excitement: “I know, I know! You must be here to personally congratulate Chloe! It’s so much trouble for you to make the trip. Chloe has always been an exceptional kid, so taking first place was entirely within our expectations…” The more the three investigators listened, the more bewildered they looked. Finally, unable to take it anymore, they cut Miller off: “Please let us finish!” “Yes, yes, go ahead.” The lead investigator pulled out a formal document: “Following a review by the Ethics Committee, Chloe Miller was found cheating during yesterday’s Physics Olympiad. We are canceling her score, issuing formal disciplinary action, and delivering a state-wide notice of censure.” “…” 09 Miller’s eyes went wide in disbelief. “Impossible! How could my daughter possibly cheat?!” The investigator frowned impatiently and shoved the disciplinary notice into his hands. “This is the official ruling. If you wish to dispute it, you can file an appeal with the State Board of Education.” That was what they said, but delivering a major disciplinary notice in person meant there was a zero percent chance of an error. As they turned to leave, Miller’s face cycled through shades of red, white, and green. He reached out to block them. “What exactly happened? There were two proctors in that room and four security cameras. If she was really cheating, why wasn’t she disqualified on the spot? Why wait until now to issue a ruling?” The investigator glanced at Chloe and said meaningfully: “You’ll have to ask your daughter about that. She’s young but full of ideas. Hiding a micro-receiver inside a hair clip? If she used that cleverness for good, she’d be brilliant.” Miller whipped around to look at Chloe. “A receiver?!” Over two thousand pairs of eyes across the school zeroed in on Chloe simultaneously. What was supposed to be a commendation ceremony had turned into a public execution. Chloe’s face was as white as a sheet. She stammered, “I… I don’t know anything about a receiver!” “Save the excuses. All the evidence has been handed over to the police for the record. Young lady, do we need to take you down to the precinct?” Hearing the word “precinct,” Chloe couldn’t utter another word of defense. She dropped to her knees in front of her father. “Dad! It wasn’t me! It was my friends’ idea!” Miller gritted his teeth. He wanted to scream at her, but with the entire school watching, he could only manage: “Get back to your class!” Chloe hung her head in shame and slinked back to the line. A teacher from the neighboring class, who had always hated Mr. Harris, laughed sarcastically: “I thought that Chloe girl from your class was going to make headlines! Well, she certainly made headlines.” Mr. Harris: “…” At that moment, I had to try my hardest to think about my dead grandmother just to keep myself from bursting out laughing. 10 After the morning assembly, Chloe was taken away by her father and never returned to the classroom. By noon, the fallout from Chloe’s disciplinary action was announced. She was suspended pending investigation and barred from returning to campus for the foreseeable future. As her escorting teacher, Mr. Harris had his entire semester bonus docked. Infuriated, Mr. Harris threw a massive tantrum during the afternoon class, making passive-aggressive remarks and pinning the blame entirely on me: “Running into this mess out of nowhere—what horrible luck! If we hadn’t swapped candidates, I wouldn’t have suffered this injustice!” The students in the front row were too terrified to breathe. I, however, lazily propped up my blazer to make a comfortable pillow, resting my head on it, and nodded in profound agreement: “You’re totally right, Mr. Harris! If we hadn’t swapped candidates, everything would have been perfect!” When he said “swap candidates,” he meant the Physics Olympiad. When I said it, I meant the Ivy League Endorsement. Realizing what I meant, his face grew even uglier. He pointed a finger at me and exploded: “Who asked you to interrupt when I’m speaking?! Taylor, I used to think you were a good student, but your attitude is atrocious! Get out into the hallway!” I grabbed my jacket, stood up, and walked out. The door slammed heavily behind me. Three minutes later, I knocked and opened it again. Mr. Harris’s face was dark. “What do you want now?!” I stepped aside, revealing a handsome, clean-cut boy standing in the doorway. “Someone’s looking for you.” 11 Mr. Harris’s fierce glare instantly morphed into fawning flattery the second he saw the boy. “Liam! What brings you here?” The moment he said that, a commotion rippled through the classroom: “Holy shit, it’s Liam Vance from Oakridge Prep! Are you serious?!” “Ahhh! It’s him! My crush! He’s rich, smart, and gorgeous! He was literally on national TV last year!” Liam stood in the doorway, his expression cool but polite. “Hello, sir. I’m looking for a student in your class.” Mr. Harris’s smile widened, practically beaming like a spring breeze. “Who are you looking for?” Who in their class could possibly be worth a personal visit from this elite young master? I leaned against the wall, casually listening as Liam enunciated every syllable: “Taylor Sterling.” Mr. Harris’s smile froze. I looked at Liam in confusion. The silence stretched for about five seconds before Liam politely added: “I heard she’s in your class. Could you ask her to step out?” Instantly, Mr. Harris’s eyes darted between Liam and the empty air, filled with disbelief and awkwardness. After a long pause, he retracted his gaze, his eyelid twitching violently. “Why are you looking for Taylor? Did she cause some kind of trouble?” “No.” Liam denied it with a strange look on his face. He thought for a few seconds, then pulled a folded test paper from his backpack. “I just wanted to ask her about her thought process for the final question on this physics exam.” Mr. Harris: “…” 12 Mr. Harris snatched the paper from Liam’s hand and inspected it closely. “What test is this?” Liam answered, “The State Physics Olympiad.” Mr. Harris’s eyes widened in shock. “You must be mistaken. Taylor didn’t even participate in the Olympiad. How could she possibly solve a question like this!” Liam frowned, looking slightly displeased. “It’s impossible that I’m mistaken. I got a copy of this directly from my uncle on the grading committee. The difficulty of this year’s exam was insanely high. Only Taylor managed to solve the final section of the last problem. I definitely didn’t remember the name wrong.” He finished, then looked at Mr. Harris suspiciously. “Are you sure Taylor isn’t in your class?” The sheer volume of information in Liam’s words was too much for Mr. Harris’s pig brain to process. He couldn’t fathom how I had managed to take the exam. Hearing Liam’s questioning tone, he instinctively argued back, “Of course Taylor is in my class.” “Then where is she?” Mr. Harris shifted his gaze back to me, his lips moving soundlessly. The next second, I tapped Liam on the shoulder from behind. “Hey, looking for me?” Liam’s calm demeanor cracked for a split second. He looked at me, scanned me up and down, and asked, “You’re Taylor?” “Yep.” “What are you doing out in the hallway?” I flashed a light smile. “Oh, getting punished. Couldn’t you tell?” “…” 13 Liam and I crouched together in the corner of the hallway outside the classroom as I explained my thought process for the problem. No matter how much Mr. Harris beckoned him to come inside and sit down, Liam rejected him with a deadpan, “No thanks.” He even threw in a veiled insult: “If Taylor has to squat out here, I can too.” It turned Mr. Harris’s face the color of liver. Near the end of the period, I finally finished explaining the solution. Before leaving, Liam asked for my number: “The Statewide Honors AP Assessments are coming up soon. We can discuss practice problems.” I gave him my number. Liam carefully saved it in his phone, then gave me a meaningful look. “Your homeroom teacher really doesn’t like you, huh?” I let out an “Huh?” “Is it that obvious?” He didn’t answer, but a faint smile touched his lips. “I think I get the picture.” “Hmm?” “Nothing. See you around.” I didn’t understand what Liam meant at the time. It wasn’t until two weeks later, when I saw Liam in our grand auditorium, that I finally understood what his “See you around” meant. The seven elite prep schools in the state held a joint academic assessment every year. Before the exams, to boost morale, they organized a seminar featuring the top 100 students from each school. This year, our school was hosting. Each school was expected to send an outstanding student representative to give a speech. Oakridge Prep sent Liam. As for our school… I stared at the pot-bellied Dean of Students, who was desperately trying to comb his combover over his bald spot, and said blankly: “A representative speech? You could have asked me earlier.”

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During winter break, while I was helping my son with his homework, he suddenly cursed at me: “I have a new mom now! I don’t need you to teach me! Get lost!” I looked at him in silence for a long time, then asked if he really didn’t want me to be his mom anymore. He viciously said yes. “I told you before, I would only give you three chances. This is the third time you’ve said you don’t want me. Remember this: you are the one who didn’t want me.” I got up and walked away. My son excitedly pulled out his phone and started playing Fortnite. He was so happy. 1 Walking out of my son’s room, I was calmer than I thought I’d be. After all, this was the third time my heart had been reduced to ashes. My son booted up Fortnite, his face twisting in manic obsession as he gamed away. I closed his door, shutting away his silhouette. I went back to my own bedroom, sat at the vanity, and stared at my pale, puffy, and bloated face. For thirteen years, I raised my son from a crying infant into a bouncing teenager. Only I knew the grueling hardships I endured along the way. But why did he turn out like this? I reflected on myself time and time again, but time and time again, I realized it wasn’t my fault. So whose fault was it? His dad’s toxic chauvinism, and his grandmother’s manipulative spoiling. “What kind of man does chores? Men are meant for big things.” “Men grind outside, women stay home and be good maids.” “What’s the big deal about washing underwear and socks together? It won’t kill you.” “You’re so annoying, why are you complaining about such little things?”… These were the things his dad, Mark, said on a daily basis. And that was exactly how he educated our son. Under the weight of thirteen years of misery, I broke down constantly. Every time I broke down, I would scream and cry like a deranged madwoman. In my son’s eyes, I was a lunatic, and his dad was a gentleman. “Look at your mother. Does she have any class at all?” That’s how Mark evaluated me, and my son would cling to his dad’s arm, looking at me with pure disgust. He had no idea that in a toxic household, the one screaming and causing a scene is usually the one in the most agonizing pain. In my misery, I completely lost all authority over my son. He resented me, rejected me, and even cursed at me. As for his grandmother, Martha, she claimed she came to “help us out,” but she really just came for a free ride. She barely lifted a finger, yet she was incredibly cunning and always knew how to win my son’s favor. If I scolded my son, she would scold me. If I forced my son to drink milk, she would sneakily buy him Coke. If a teacher punished my son, she would march to the school and physically attack the teacher. … Oh, she was so smart. She ruined my son’s growth and development, but she won his absolute devotion. And I, trapped in thirteen years of agony, had morphed into a shrieking housewife. 2 The woman in the mirror was already covered in tears. I didn’t even know when I started crying. From the next room, my son screamed: “Defend the damn tower, you idiot!” He was having the time of his life because I wasn’t nagging him anymore—even though tonight was the last day of winter break, and dozens of pages in his homework packet were still blank. Taking a deep breath, I patted my cheeks, burying my emotions as much as humanly possible. Giving up on someone you love is a bitter pill to swallow, but what follows is the exhilarating thrill of liberation. Once you flip that mental switch, nothing else matters. I stood up and took a hard look at my bloated body in the mirror. These were the scars left by thirteen years of torment. Thirteen years ago, I was a slim, beautiful, and ambitious college graduate. With my outstanding capabilities, I became the General Manager of a medical aesthetics spa chain. The owner, Brenda, treated me like a sister. But I threw away a brilliant career for “love.” I married Mark, became a full-time stay-at-home mom, and dedicated my life to serving my husband and raising my son. Breakdown after breakdown, healing after healing. Hurt by my son over and over, only to forgive him over and over. Until tonight. I finally gave up on him. I gave up my own flesh and blood. Because this was the third time he told me he didn’t want me to be his mom. Three months ago, I gave him a warning. At the time, Mark had already checked out of our marriage and was keeping a mistress on the side. For the sake of my son, I turned a blind eye. But that woman, Tiffany, started coming around the house more frequently. She would even buy groceries and drop them off just to butter up my mother-in-law. She got close to my son, too. He absolutely adored her. One time, after I scolded my son, he flat-out told me he didn’t want me to be his mom anymore. He wanted to swap me out. I knew he wanted that woman to be his new mom, and I knew Mark would kick me to the curb sooner or later. I didn’t care about Mark, but I cared about my son. So I told him: “I know you really like that lady, but I am your mother. If you ever say you don’t want me to be your mom again, I will tolerate it twice. But the third time, I won’t want you either.” My son didn’t take it to heart. Tonight, he blurted it out: I have a new mom now! I don’t need you to teach me! Get lost! 3 Exhaling another deep breath, I checked the time. It was 9:00 PM. Martha was still at her Zumba class at the community center. Mark was out “networking.” I knew his “networking” was taking place in his mistress’s bed. I opened my phone and found a contact named Brenda. Brenda was the owner of the MedSpa chain. After I quit, she asked me to come back multiple times, but I always declined. To this day, we only texted during the holidays or on birthdays. Our last chat was on my birthday. She sent me a generous gift card. It was the only gift I received, because no one in my own family remembered my birthday. After debating it for a long time, I sent Brenda a text, asking if she was asleep. She immediately FaceTimed me. I hesitated, but accepted the call. “Wow, Mel actually reached out… um… you…” Brenda’s beautifully preserved face froze on the screen, her words catching in her throat. I knew my current appearance had completely thrown her off. I had gained at least sixty pounds, and the youthful collagen in my face was long gone. For some reason, seeing Brenda looking so beautiful while she stared at me in shock made my tears flow like a broken dam. “Mel? Is that you? Oh honey, don’t cry.” Brenda panicked, caring about me just as deeply as she did all those years ago. I sobbed uncontrollably. So many emotions were tangled up inside me. I was filled with intense guilt; I never should have left Brenda. 4 After a long while, I managed to hold back my tears and apologized to Brenda. Brenda asked me what happened. I didn’t want to say it, but I needed to vent so badly. I told her my life was terrible, my marriage was a disaster, and I wanted to make some money so I could gain my independence. I really needed money. I knew Mark would divorce me eventually, and I had to be prepared. “Your husband is a piece of trash, just as I thought… and your mother-in-law is a wicked bitch. I guessed as much years ago when you first told me… sigh, I’m not going to lecture you.” Brenda sighed in frustration, wishing I had been stronger, but then she immediately started making a plan for me. “You can’t be a General Manager looking like this. We’re in medical aesthetics, and the company has expanded more than tenfold since you left. “Here’s the plan. I just opened a new branch in your area. You’ll go in as the Assistant Manager to help out. Your base salary will be $6,000 a month. In the meantime, you need to lose weight and get fit. You need your beauty back. Once you get your looks back, you’ll come to headquarters and be a General Manager. I’ll pay you $15,000+ a month plus commission!” I was ecstatic. Honestly, I didn’t even dare to hope for an Assistant Manager role; I just wanted to do administrative work. Pulling in $3,000 or $4,000 a month would have been a dream. I didn’t expect Brenda to hand me an Assistant Manager position and promise me a GM role in the future! I had the skills and the ambition. I wasn’t going to turn this down. “Brenda, give me a year. I will absolutely come see you at headquarters!” “Silly girl, come whenever you’re ready. Don’t wait a year, and don’t put too much pressure on yourself.” Brenda understood what I meant. This year was for me to transform myself. But she was afraid I’d rush it. After all, a year isn’t that long. 5 Hanging up the video call, a genuine smile finally returned to my face. I immediately started studying the MedSpa materials Brenda had sent me. Thirteen years had passed, and the medical aesthetics industry had changed drastically. I couldn’t afford to slack off; I had to understand everything thoroughly to be a good Assistant Manager. I studied until 10:00 PM, filling five pages with notes. Then, Martha came home. She opened the door loudly and slammed it shut even louder. The BANG made my eardrums throb. She did this every single day. No matter how many times I asked her to be quiet, nothing changed. “Grandma, look at my stats! 23 kills, MVP!” Cody grabbed his phone and ran to greet her. Martha didn’t understand the game, but she praised him endlessly: “My grandson is so amazing! Are you hungry? Want a late-night snack? I brought you some fried chicken.” “Hungry, hungry, hungry! Grandma, feed it to me, I’m going to keep racking up kills!” Cody plopped down on the sofa, and Martha tore off pieces of chicken to hand-feed him. I walked out to get a glass of water. Watching this scene, my heart felt completely dead. Not a single ripple. Martha shot me a glare. “Getting ready to yell again, huh? Cody studied all day. Playing a few games and eating some chicken is perfectly normal.” “Hmph!” Cody didn’t look at me, but he twisted his body, turning his back to me to express his annoyance. “Eat slowly. I’m busy.” I poured my water, went back to my room, and continued studying my materials. “What’s wrong with your mom? She’s usually acting like a crazy banshee.” Martha sounded a bit confused. Cody scoffed. “She’s scared. I threatened to replace her with a new mom. Now she doesn’t even dare to fart.” A thirteen-year-old middle schooler saying things like this. I put in my earplugs and focused on my studies. I wanted to be a great Assistant Manager, then a Branch Manager, then a General Manager. I was going to return to my peak. I was going to make $15,000 a month. When that day came, Mark’s $8,000 a month wouldn’t mean shit. The one initiating the divorce would be me, not him. He wasn’t worthy. 6 That night, I was incredibly hyped and full of passion. The exhaustion of pouring your heart into a career is entirely different from the soul-crushing exhaustion of being a housewife. I no longer had to suffer in agony because Mark didn’t come home at night, and I didn’t have to be furious because my son was staying up late playing video games. My eyes were solely focused on my work. That was something that truly belonged to me! When the sun came up, I had only slept for five hours, but I was bursting with energy. Normally, this was the time I would wake up to prepare breakfast and clothes for my son, and pack his backpack for whatever camp he had. But today, I got up, washed my face, and walked straight out the door to get breakfast, not even glancing at my son’s room. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and a large caramel macchiato. I ordered a bit of everything and tasted it all, just like I did when I was in my twenties. I love food, but after marrying Mark, cooking three meals a day enveloped me in the greasy smell of the kitchen like a lingering nightmare. I was never going to cook a single meal for this family again! After eating and drinking my fill, I took a walk. By 8:00 AM, I was heading to the Elysian MedSpa branch to meet the manager. I specifically sent Brenda a text: “I’m heading out!” I figured she wasn’t awake yet, but she immediately FaceTimed me. I answered, and she was beaming: “Mel, you’re full of drive! Looks like you really want to change. You got this!” I nodded solemnly. Brenda then asked me: “Are you going to get a divorce first? I can hook you up with a shark of a lawyer to make sure you get a bigger cut of the assets.” I shook my head. “No rush. I’ve been stuck in the mud for thirteen years; I don’t mind staying for one more. When I finally climb out of this mud, I’m going to shove Mark and his entire family face-first into it!” I wasn’t satisfied. My heart was full of resentment. If I just divorced him now, no matter how much money I took, I wouldn’t feel good. I wanted them to feel miserable! They were the ones who deserved to suffer! “Looks like you have a plan. Good, that’s the Mel I know. The old Melody is back!” 7 Brenda didn’t say much more. She was incredibly busy, considering her company had expanded massively. However, she transferred $1,000 to my account, calling it a “start-work bonus,” saying everyone gets one. I was touched. Who gives a $1,000 start-work bonus? But I accepted it anyway. If I didn’t take this money, combining everything I had to my name wouldn’t even add up to fifty bucks. At 9:00 AM, the Elysian MedSpa opened. I had been waiting outside. I walked in and introduced myself to the branch manager. The manager was a middle-aged woman, very stylish and chic. She clearly wasn’t impressed by my appearance, but since I was personally assigned by Brenda, she didn’t dare say anything. She was just very cold. But after I worked for one day, the manager was beaming at me. “Mel, you are incredible! You closed nine premium memberships in one afternoon! That’s amazing! “Your etiquette and customer service skills are totally professional. You definitely worked in this industry before, didn’t you? “The three clients you targeted were indeed high-spenders. They bought memberships after just one treatment!” The manager’s praise gave me a long-lost thrill. This was a thrill I had lost thirteen years ago. I am back! 8 By the time I got off work, it was already 9:30 PM. I could have left earlier, but I didn’t want to. I preferred immersing myself in work. I checked my phone. Sure enough, it was blowing up. Three missed calls from Martha, seven from Mark. Right then, he called again. I answered, and Mark started screaming immediately: “Mel, where the hell did you go? No dinner, no laundry, you didn’t pick up the kid! I come home and the place is a disaster, damn it!” “Didn’t you say doing chores was incredibly easy? I just skipped one day. How could it be a disaster?” I mocked him. Mark flared up: “What the f*ck do you mean? Get your ass back here right now!” “Your son doesn’t want me to be his mom anymore. He has a new mom now. I suggest you let the new mom be your maid.” I mercilessly exposed his affair. He had a new woman. In the past, I tolerated it for the sake of my son. But now, I didn’t even want my son anymore. What was I tolerating? It’s your turn to tolerate me, Mark! Mark clearly stiffened for a second, then continued with an icy tone: “Since you know, I won’t hide it. Men have a lot of social obligations outside; who doesn’t do this? “Besides, I work so hard to provide for you, and you’re still not satisfied? What’s wrong with me having a little fun on the side?” He was so unbelievably shameless. His shamelessness was built entirely on my perceived “uselessness.” Yes, a full-time stay-at-home mom who only knows how to do laundry, cook, and act as a maid is considered useless. She is looked down upon by her husband. That’s why Mark dared to openly say he was “having fun on the side.” He wasn’t afraid of me getting angry at all. “Got it. You work so hard. Let your mom serve you well. Your son only likes your mom anyway. I’m not coming back.” I hung up the phone. Just because I’m not in a rush to divorce doesn’t mean I’ll keep being a doormat. I’ve let everything go. If I say I don’t want my son, I don’t want him! If I say I’m not coming home, I’m not coming home! 9 Ignoring Mark, I went to grab dinner, then took an Uber to a boutique women’s fitness and sculpting studio. I signed up for a month-long fat-loss boot camp. Five sessions a week, $100 per session. Dropping $2,000 all at once was a massive expense in my eyes. In the past, I wouldn’t have even dared to dream of this. All my spending had to be for the family. A measly $300 personal monthly allowance had to cover all the little things around the house. It was truly pathetic. After signing up for the classes, I booked a room at a four-star hotel for the night, letting the plush mattress support my exhausted body. It had been so long since I felt this relaxed. The next day, I rented an apartment and started my new life. My daily routine became a straight line between the MedSpa and the fitness studio. I didn’t even cast a glance back at my old home. Martha started panicking. Because I refused to go back, she had to do all the chores. “Mel, are you out of your mind? Why aren’t you coming home? Are you out fooling around with some wild man?!” Martha yelled at me over the phone. Cody’s voice echoed in the background: “It’s better if she doesn’t come back! I get annoyed just looking at her. She can go die!” My grip tightened on the phone, then relaxed. I was as calm as still water: “Cody only likes you, so you take care of him.” I hung up, turned on Do Not Disturb, and poured all my passion into my work and my workouts. 10 In just two short months, the Elysian MedSpa branch I worked at became the highest-grossing clinic in the region. Brenda was amazed. When we FaceTimed, she couldn’t stop praising me. “Mel, you are a force of nature! That new branch is dominating the market, crushing even the established clinics. You’re too powerful!” “Of course I’m powerful. After all, I was an all-star General Manager thirteen years ago.” I wasn’t modest at all. Brenda laughed loudly, then looked closely at my face. She noted that I had lost a lot of weight and looked much healthier. It was true. I had lost over 25 pounds. Even though I was still around 155 pounds, my entire demeanor and energy had completely changed. Looking at myself on the screen, I let out a soft breath. For a moment, I was overwhelmed with emotion, unable to find the words. “Okay, okay, don’t cry now. You’ve taken the first successful step. Keep pushing! I can’t wait to see you drop down to 120 pounds. When you hit 120, you’re going to be drop-dead gorgeous.” Brenda encouraged me again, and promoted me to Branch Manager with a base salary of $8,000. The original manager was transferred to an older branch. To celebrate my promotion, I treated Zoey, the owner of the fitness studio, to dinner. Over the past two months, Zoey and I had become close. She was very young, only twenty-six, and single. Zoey was bubbly and cute. She was also a minor influencer with about 50,000 followers on TikTok. While eating, she chattered away: “Mel, I’ve noticed a massive change in you. It’s not just that you lost weight; your whole vibe has changed. How should I put it… “Two months ago, when you came to me for classes, I honestly didn’t really want to take you on. Your image was so poor, and you looked broke. Our members are usually pretty wealthy…” Her honesty made me laugh. I nodded. “Yeah, I was incredibly broke back then. I was taking care of an entire family of freeloaders on a $300 monthly allowance.” “No way, was it really that bad?” Zoey’s eyes went wide. She was shocked, but she didn’t pry into my family drama. Instead, she started plotting something else: “Mel, you really need money, right? Do you want to be an influencer with me? I’ve been wanting to find a client to use for content—specifically, a weight-loss transformation series. “You’re at 155 pounds right now. If you keep this up every day, when you hit 120, you’ll look beautiful and fierce. You’ll definitely attract a huge following!” Zoey looked at me with expectation. I thought about it and asked: “How much is the pay?” Zoey gave me a playful eye roll: “We’ll split the video ad revenue 50/50. And… your fitness classes will be free from now on. How about that?” “Deal!” I took on an extra side gig: being Zoey’s content subject. She really liked my aura. She said that even though I was a downtrodden housewife, I had the bone structure of a classic beauty. When I slimmed down, I’d be explosive. Who knows, I might even become a massive influencer. And I have to admit, Zoey’s project drew in a ton of followers. Many netizens wanted to see how far I could transform, and they wanted to learn some weight-loss tips along the way. Another month later, I lost another 15 pounds. I was down to 140 pounds. When I looked in the mirror, I would occasionally catch glimpses of my younger self. It was as if the clock from thirteen years ago was running backward, and I was walking step-by-step toward the woman I was thirteen years ago.

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I floated suspended in the damp, heavy air, looking down at my own body crumpled in the dirt. My chest ached with a phantom tightness, but more than anything, my heart swelled with a profound, suffocating guilt toward my mother. I’ve embarrassed her again, I thought. Just like always. It all started with the eight-mile weighted ruck march. My mother was the Company Commander of our grueling advanced training regiment. To dispel any whispers of nepotism, she insisted that I—despite my documented, severe asthma—participate in the field exercise. I had a forty-pound tactical pack strapped to my shoulders. With every step I dragged forward, it felt like swallowing broken glass. I had to stop and gasp for air just to keep moving. By the halfway point, the edges of my vision were blurring into dark vignettes. I couldn’t hold on anymore. I reached into my cargo pocket for my rescue inhaler, just needing one quick burst of albuterol to open my screaming lungs. But before my fingers could even close around the plastic casing, Squad Leader Kelsey snatched it from behind me. Without breaking stride, she chucked it over the edge of the ravine. “Captain!” Kelsey yelled toward the front of the column, her voice dripping with sycophantic eagerness. “Gemma is trying to slack off again! Don’t worry, ma’am, I won’t let her drag the whole company down!” Far up the trail, my mother paused. She glanced back over her shoulder, her face a mask of rigid, exhaustion-fueled irritation. “The entire company is waiting on you, Gemma. Do you have absolutely no shame?” her voice cut through the humid air, sharp as a switchblade. “If you can’t walk, crawl. If you can’t crawl, roll. Do not humiliate me out here.” She turned back around. She didn’t look at me again. I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste copper and kept pushing forward. My chest felt like it was caught in an industrial vice, tightening with every frantic, shallow breath. Black spots danced furiously in front of my eyes. Finally, around mile five, the invisible vice snapped shut. My knees buckled, and I slammed heavily into the unforgiving earth. I never got back up. 1 Several cadets marched past me as the column moved out. “The Captain is brutal, man. Even to her own kid.” “You kidding? Especially to her own kid. Zero special treatment.” “I thought her daughter was slated for Public Affairs? Desk duty, taking photos. She shouldn’t even be on a tactical ruck.” “You don’t get it. The Captain forced her into it to prove a point. If she went easy on her kid, she’d lose the company’s respect.” The hushed murmurs drifted into my ears. I lay face down, my cheek pressed into the jagged gravel and wet soil. The massive rucksack was still crushing my spine, pinning me to the ground. My tactical uniform blended perfectly with the underbrush. They didn’t even realize I was there. They just stepped right over me. I thought I heard the dull, sickening crunch of my own ribs giving way under a heavy combat boot. As the last person passed, their sole caught the edge of my uniform sleeve, flipping my arm. It left my hand clawing at the dirt—a frozen testament to the fact that, even in my final moments, I had been desperately trying to stand back up. Kelsey, sweeping the rear, slowed her pace as she approached. She looked down at me, her eyes narrowing. She nudged my shoulder with the steel toe of her boot. “Why are you hiding in the weeds? Trying to catch a break?” she sneered. “Get up. Now. Before I go tell your mother.” I didn’t move. She kicked me again, harder this time. My shoulder jerked. When I still didn’t respond, she grabbed me by the webbing of my tactical vest and dragged me roughly into the tall grass off the trail. Seeing me flop into the weeds like a sack of wet sand, she let out a dry, contemptuous laugh. “You’re a hell of an actress, I’ll give you that. Playing dead to get out of a hike. No wonder you wanted Public Affairs.” A few stragglers from the rear guard caught up. Seeing me sprawled in the brush, they slowed down, whispering among themselves. Kelsey’s eyes darted around. She took a step back, pitching her voice loud enough to echo off the trees. “Gemma!” she gasped in mock horror. “Are you seriously just going to lay there and wait for the Captain to come carry you?” The group of cadets broke into muted laughter, the mockery thick in the air. “Must be nice, being the Captain’s kid.” “VIP treatment. When your legs get tired, mommy comes to the rescue.” I drifted in the air above them, a silent spectator. I watched them circle my corpse like kids looking at roadkill. Kelsey turned toward the high ground up ahead and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Captain Rossi! Gemma stopped again! She’s on the ground playing dead!” Up on the ridge, my mother stopped. She turned around. I watched her begin the march down the incline, her strides long and furious. And as she approached, a small, childish thought flickered in my ghostly mind. If she realizes I’m dead… will it break her heart? She reached me, stopping exactly three paces away. “Gemma. How long do you plan on throwing this tantrum?” She stared down at me. Her voice was absolute ice. “Forty people in this company. They are all waiting on you. Are you really this selfish?” Silence. “You need to get it through your head that out here, you aren’t my daughter. You are a recruit. Because of your pathetic display, you’ve killed the regiment’s momentum. When we get back to base, you’re running a hundred laps and standing at attention outside the barracks for two hours.” Kelsey’s lips curled into a faint, triumphant smirk. “Captain, do you think she’s… actually hurt?” “Hurt?” My mother paused. “I know my daughter. She’s been pulling this exact stunt since she was a little girl. The second things don’t go her way, she drops to the ground and makes a scene.” Her words drifted up to me, frigid and dismissive. “She just wants to break me. She wants me to coddle her in front of the entire company, just to prove she’s special to me.” I hovered beside my mother, my translucent hands reaching out, desperate to explain. No, Mom. I wasn’t trying to force your hand. I died. She said she knew me. But the girl she knew was a memory from childhood. She didn’t know the woman I had become. She didn’t know how much I had learned to swallow the pain. She didn’t know that by mile three, my heart was already spasming in my chest. She didn’t know that my inhaler—my only lifeline—had been ripped away and tossed into a ravine by the very girl she was trying to impress. Mom, I didn’t want to make you soft. I wasn’t trying to prove anything. I just… I couldn’t walk anymore. I’m so sorry, Mom. I embarrassed you again. 2 When I still didn’t move, my mother’s annoyance flared into genuine rage. She closed the distance in two quick strides, her eyes narrowing at the patch of flattened grass. “Gemma.” No answer. She raised her voice, a sharp, military bark. “Gemma, drag your ass out of there right now.” The wind swept through the tall grass, revealing half of my mud-caked uniform. My mother saw it. She parted the brush. I was face down, my shoulders sunken into the earth. From her angle, it looked exactly like I was deliberately burying my face in the dirt, stubbornly refusing to look at her. My mother inhaled sharply. The air around her turned venomous. “Wow. You’ve really perfected the dead weight routine, haven’t you? What, are you trying to force my hand like you did back then?” A memory hit me with sudden, blinding clarity. I was twelve. My parents had both been given orders for a dangerous overseas deployment. I had screamed, cried, and ultimately faked a severe asthma attack just to force my mother to stay behind. She stayed. But my father went. And a stray bullet in a desert thousands of miles away made sure he never came back. After that day, my mother became a different person. Whenever my chest seized up, whenever I genuinely couldn’t breathe, she looked at me with cold suspicion. She thought I was always lying. Her voice trembled with barely contained fury. “You think you can play mind games with me?” She crouched down, her hands violently twisting into the collar of my tactical shirt. She hauled my upper body out of the grass and slammed me back down against the wet earth, handling me with the rough, mechanical detachment of dealing with an enemy combatant. She pressed her hand hard against the back of my neck, shoving my face into the damp, decaying leaves and mud. “Great acting,” she hissed. Footsteps crunched on the gravel behind her. Lieutenant Callahan, the platoon leader, jogged up. He stopped short, his eyes widening as he saw the Captain pinning her own daughter to the dirt. He opened his mouth, closed it, and finally spoke. “Captain… should I radio for the medics?” “Cancel that,” my mother snapped, cutting him off. “She has faked sickness since she was in middle school. She plays the victim to get pity. If I don’t break her of this habit today, it’s going to ruin her.” Her grip on my collar tightened. My head lolled limply against her knuckles, swaying with the movement. “I am going to ask you one last time, Gemma. Are you getting up?” She let go. My forehead hit the ground with a sickening, hollow thud. She stood up, towering over me, her chest heaving. “Fine. You want to stay down?” She raised her leg. The reinforced toe of her combat boot drove hard into my thigh. “Get up.” Another kick. This one to my ribs. “Keep faking. Go ahead.” A third kick. To my shoulder. Callahan couldn’t take it anymore. He lunged forward. “Captain, that’s enough!” My mother shoved him back. She leaned down, grabbed me by both shoulders, and hauled my limp body up. She raised her hand and slapped me across the face. Smack. The sound was sharp and terrible in the mountain wind. My head snapped violently to the side. “Are you awake now?” Another slap. “Stop faking.” A third. “Don’t you ever lie to me again.” Callahan grabbed her arm, physically pulling her away. “Captain! Stop! Something is wrong! Look at her face—” My mother wrenched her arm out of his grip, but her gaze finally locked onto my face. She stared at me for three agonizing seconds. “Unbelievable,” she whispered, her voice laced with disgust. “You actually put on corpse makeup to trick me? I knew I shouldn’t have let you anywhere near this regiment. You are a complete embarrassment.” She released me, letting me drop like a stone back into the weeds. “If she wants to lay there, let her lay there. We’ll see how long her little protest lasts.” She turned and walked away. After a few paces, she stopped and threw a look over her shoulder at the Lieutenant. “Pass the word down. Double-time the pace. Anyone who falls behind stays behind.” Callahan opened his mouth to argue, but she was already marching back to the front. He cast one last, tortured look at the brush before jogging after her. I hovered right where I fell. I looked down at my own body. The left side of my face was severely swollen. The blood trickling from the corner of my mouth had already dried into a dark crust. My uniform was painted with the muddy imprints of combat boots, and my shoulder rested at a grotesque, unnatural angle where it had been crushed. I was dead. I wasn’t supposed to feel physical pain anymore. But for some reason, my soul felt like it was being torn apart. 3 Callahan had only taken a few steps toward the column when his boot kicked something hard in the grass. He paused, looking down. It was an Albuterol inhaler. He recognized it instantly as the one I carried everywhere. A deep crease formed between his brows. He picked it up and immediately shouted for Kelsey. Kelsey, who had seamlessly blended back into the middle of the formation, jogged over at the sound of her name. “Lieutenant? What is it?” Callahan stepped into her space, holding the plastic inhaler right in front of her eyes. “This is Gemma’s inhaler. Why is it in the dirt miles from where she collapsed? I recall Gemma mentioning before we shipped out that you took her spare. Is that true?” Kelsey’s eyes flickered with panic. She took a half-step back. “Sir? I don’t know what you’re implying.” “I’m asking if you threw her asthma medication into the woods. Do you realize that kind of hazing can be fatal?” Kelsey’s voice dropped an octave, trembling. “No, sir. I didn’t. Why would I touch her meds? She’s probably just making things up to get me in trouble.” She gathered her confidence, her voice growing louder, as if volume could make the lie real. “Besides, she was faking the whole time anyway! The Captain said it herself—she’s been faking sick since she was a kid. What does this have to do with me?” Several cadets nearby slowed down, rubbernecking at the confrontation. “Looks like the Squad Leader is getting chewed out. You never see Callahan that mad.” “I heard he said she tossed Gemma’s inhaler.” “Wait, that inhaler? I think I actually saw her—” Before the cadet could finish the sentence, my mother’s voice cut through the trees like a whip. “Why is there a bottleneck here? Keep moving!” Callahan and Kelsey turned simultaneously. My mother marched toward them, her expression entirely unreadable, her eyes dead and cold. Callahan immediately stepped to her, holding out the plastic device. “Captain, please look at this. Isn’t this Gemma’s rescue inhaler?” My mother gave it a fleeting, disinterested glance. “Captain…” Kelsey’s voice wavered, immediately injecting tears into her tone. “I swear I didn’t touch it. I saw the bottle earlier and just asked her what it was…” “Enough.” My mother cut off Kelsey’s frantic defense. She glanced at the worn label on the canister. And then, just as Callahan opened his mouth to press the issue, my mother snatched the inhaler from his hand and chucked it blindly into the thick, impenetrable brush. “Move out. We’re burning daylight.” Callahan stood frozen in the mud, his brow furrowed so deeply it looked painful. He tried one last time. “Ma’am, I am not comfortable leaving Gemma out here. If she really is having a medical emergency—” “I said she is faking,” my mother exploded, her voice echoing violently through the woods. Whatever nerve Callahan had struck, it triggered a raw, defensive fury. “You just saw her! She’d rather play dead in the mud than keep up with this unit. This isn’t just a discipline issue anymore, Lieutenant. It’s a character defect.” She pointed a finger hard at Callahan’s chest. “The minute this exercise is over, I am filing the paperwork for her immediate discharge. I will not have a manipulative coward in my regiment. And as a Platoon Leader, your focus should be on the unit, not letting yourself get manipulated by one malingerer.” She leaned in. “Not another word. One more word and you’ll be running those hundred laps with her.” Callahan’s jaw clenched so tight the muscle leaped in his cheek. But he didn’t say another word. A cold breeze swept over the trail, rustling the dead leaves. The blood seeping from underneath my body had already soaked deep into the earth, coagulating into a dark, sticky mass. I floated in the air, watching my mother’s rigid back as she marched away. Callahan had been so close. He had almost uncovered the truth. Just one step away. But my mother chose to believe Kelsey over me. With her own hands, she had taken the very last shred of hope for me, and she had buried it. 4 It was pitch black by the time the company returned to base camp. A sudden, freezing drizzle began to fall. The few floodlights around the staging area cut through the rain, casting everything in a sickly, jaundiced yellow. My mother stood at the front of the formation with her clipboard, conducting roll call. She barked out the names, one by one. Each was met with a crisp “Here, ma’am.” Until she reached the third name from the bottom. She paused. “Gemma Rossi.” Silence. She called it again, sharper this time. “Gemma Rossi.” Only the sound of rain hitting the muddy tarmac answered her. My mother slowly raised her head, her eyes scanning the exhausted, rain-slicked faces of the cadets. “Where is she?” When no one spoke, she folded the roster, shoved it into her rain jacket, and let out a short, hollow breath. “Fine. She wants to play hide and seek.” She squared her shoulders, addressing the entire company. Her voice carried over the storm. “Listen up. As of tonight, Cadet Rossi is dismissed from this program. Anyone who shrinks from duty, who abandons their unit in the field, has no place in my command. I am filing the discharge papers tonight. Let her be a lesson to the rest of you. Dismissed.” The formation broke in utter silence. In the front row, Kelsey kept her head bowed, but the very corner of her mouth twitched. My mother turned on her heel and marched to the command tent. Callahan hesitated for a agonizing second before jogging after her. “Captain, it’s pouring out there. She’s alone in the woods—” “She knows how to hide,” my mother snapped, not even looking at him. “You really think she’s just sitting out there letting herself get rained on?” Callahan went quiet. His fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles stark white against the gloom. The rain was coming down in sheets now. Callahan stood in the doorway of the command tent, watching the deluge outside, then turned back to my mother. She was sitting behind a folding tactical desk, illuminated by a harsh LED lantern, furiously filling out the discharge forms. The scratch of her pen against the paper was loud and rhythmic. Callahan stepped forward. “Captain. Requesting permission to take a search detail out for her.” She didn’t look up from the paperwork. “Denied.” “Ma’am, the temperature is dropping. If she’s actually hurt—” She slammed the pen down and finally looked at him. Her eyes were hard. “Did she cast some sort of spell on you, Lieutenant?” Callahan blinked, caught off guard. “She has been doing this exact routine since she was a child,” my mother said, her voice dripping with fatigue. “The second she doesn’t get her way, she hides. She forces the whole family to panic and search for her. And when she’s finally found, she turns on the tears and plays the victim.” She leaned back in her chair, a look of profound disgust crossing her features. “I am not falling for it again.” Callahan’s voice dropped, turning dark and heavy. “Captain. What if she isn’t faking? What if she’s really—” For a fraction of a second, the color completely drained from my mother’s face. But just as quickly, the mask slammed back into place. “Are you lecturing me on how to run my command?” “I’m just saying, whether you plan to discipline her or discharge her, we need to bring her back to base first. Leaving her out there… isn’t this an overcorrection?” The word hung in the damp air of the tent. Overcorrection. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the relentless drumming of rain against the canvas. My mother stared at Callahan, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “An overcorrection?” she repeated, stepping out from behind the desk. Her voice was terrifyingly low. “Do you have any idea what she did when she was twelve years old?” Callahan remained silent. Instead of explaining, my mother took a deep breath, forcing her features back into a state of chilling calm. “If she likes hiding in the woods, she can stay in the woods. Let’s see how long her stubbornness lasts in the cold.” Callahan stood his ground. His lips parted, but before he could push any further, the tent flap flew open. Kelsey ducked inside, out of breath. “Captain, someone is here to see you.” My mother’s lips curved into a bitter, knowing smile. She shot Callahan a look of pure vindication. “See? What did I tell you? She was faking. She got tired of the rain and came crawling back. I told you, she just needs to learn a lesson. The more you cater to her, the more she manipulates you.” Suddenly, the heavy canvas door was ripped open from the outside. A gust of wind drove rain deep into the tent, splattering mud across the tactical maps. Major Henderson, the base commander, stood in the doorway. He was thoroughly soaked, his face a terrifying shade of gray. He looked directly at my mother, cutting off whatever she was about to say. “Why did you abandon a recruit in the field? Search and Rescue just pulled a body out of the ravine. She’s wearing one of our uniforms.”

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A girl suddenly collapsed onto her knees at my front door, and honestly, I was a little thrown. She was wailing, screaming about how she’d spent sixteen years searching for her mother, and apparently, that mother was my wife. I was standing there with a can of Coke in my hand, thinking to myself that this was about to be a hell of a show. I figured it was just another one of those high-society soap operas—a long-lost child coming to claim their inheritance. It’s a classic trope, right? After all, I’m currently the husband to a titan of industry. My wife adores me, we have kids, and I’m essentially living the “winner” script of a lifetime. But I didn’t expect the plot twist to hit so fast. She suddenly whipped around, pointed a trembling finger right at my nose, and started screaming. She called me a squatter. A fraud. She claimed I’d stolen her father’s rightful place, and she didn’t stop there—she called my two sons “bastards.” 1 “Mom!” The girl was practically face-down on the marble floor of the dining room entrance, sobbing at Diana’s feet. She was wearing a faded, washed-out T-shirt, her hair pulled back in a messy knot. She looked up at Diana, who was sitting at the head of the table, and the floodgates just opened. “Sixteen years… I finally found you!” The entire room froze. Parker stopped mid-bite into his apple. Chase’s hand paused as he reached for his coffee. Even Walter, our long-time house manager, let his eyes widen just a fraction. Diana sat there, her brow slightly furrowed, her expression a mask of calm. She didn’t say a word. And me? I just took a long, satisfying sip of my Coke. Sugar and carbonation—the greatest invention in human history. Life throws a lot of curveballs at you, but I’ve always lived by one rule: even if the sky is falling, you might as well have a drink while you watch. The girl’s name was Jade. She was seventeen. According to her, she was the result of a one-night stand Diana had seventeen years ago at a place called The Midnight Vault. Her father was a guy named Ray. Apparently, he’d been a bartender there, spent one night with a very drunk Diana, and ended up raising a daughter alone for seventeen years. Now, Ray was supposedly on his deathbed, which gave Jade the courage to come “home.” “Mom, my dad is really fading. His only wish in this world is for me to take my rightful place in this family…” Jade’s voice was raw, her body shaking with tremors. “I know I shouldn’t be here, I know I’m a disruption, but I had nowhere else to go…” She sounded devastatingly sincere. Tears and snot were a mess on her face, and I could hear some of the younger house staff whispering in the hallway. Diana glanced at me. I gave her a small, supportive nod. “Get up for now,” Diana said, her voice steady. “Walter, arrange a guest room for her. And get in touch with the lab for a DNA test.” “Thank you, Mom! Thank you!” Jade sobbed, nearly kissing the floor again before the staff helped her up. As she stood, her eyes flickered over to me. There was a flash of pure, unadulterated hatred in that look. Then her gaze shifted to Parker and Chase. A tiny, almost imperceptible smirk touched the corner of her mouth. I saw it clearly. It was the smile of a winner. Like she’d already taken the crown. I’d first heard the rumor that Diana had a secret daughter from Walter during breakfast. Actually, it started with a text. Ping. Diana: “You up? Breakfast is on the table.” I sent back a blowing-kiss emoji and took my sweet time getting ready. My name is Gavin, and I am the husband of the Chairwoman of the Sterling Group. When I “woke up” in this life five years ago, I only remembered my name. But I quickly realized I’d hit the cosmic jackpot. My wife, Diana, was the eldest daughter of the Sterling empire and had already taken the reins as CEO. She’s five-nine, gorgeous, and looks like she stepped out of a high-end fashion editorial. She wasn’t easy at first. Word was she’d been through some trauma, and she treated me with a chilly indifference for the first few months. But I’m a romantic at heart—and a pragmatist. I wanted a life of luxury, so I set out to win over the Ice Queen. I learned her likes, her dislikes, and figured out exactly what made her feel safe. Slowly, she went from ignoring me to depending on me. Now? Now she won’t leave the house without a kiss. The first thing she says when she walks through the door is, “Honey, I’m home.” She insists on falling asleep in my arms, or she can’t sleep at all. At forty-something, Diana is the woman of my dreams. I finished my morning routine and headed downstairs. The dining room was already full. Diana was in her spot at the head of the long mahogany table, dressed in a deep navy silk robe. She smiled when she saw me. “There you are.” 2 “Morning,” I said, leaning down to plant a kiss on her cheek before taking my seat. Across from me sat our sons, Chase and Parker. As soon as I sat down, Chase pushed a plate of freshly sliced fruit toward me. Parker, who was working on a breakfast sandwich, grinned. “Looking sharp today, Dad.” “Of course. These skin serums don’t apply themselves, you know.” “Was that new night cream any good?” “Game changer. I’ll order a jar for you.” “Thanks, Dad!” Diana looked at us, laughing softly as she shook her head. “You three. All you do is talk about shopping.” “What’s wrong? You tired of me spending your money yet?” I teased, shooting her a playful look. “Never. I work so you can spend it. That’s the deal.” Chase set his phone down, his face deadpan. “Mom, that was pathetic. Have some dignity.” “You’ll understand when you’re older. It’s called spoiling your husband.” “Whatever. You win.” I popped a piece of melon into my mouth, enjoying the quiet hum of the house. “What’s the schedule today?” Diana asked. “Spa in the morning, then tea with the guys in the afternoon. You?” “Board meeting this morning. I should be back early afternoon.” “Dinner together, then?” “Definitely. What are you craving?” “I’ll think about it. Let’s decide when you get home.” “Deal.” That was when Walter walked in. Walter had been with the family for over thirty years. He was the definition of “unflappable,” but today, he looked genuinely rattled. “Chairwoman. Sir.” “What is it, Walter?” Diana asked. Walter hesitated. “There is a young woman outside. Seventeen, perhaps. She’s asking for you, Ma’am.” “Who is she?” “She claims…” Walter paused, clearing his throat. “She claims to be your daughter.” The room went silent for two beats. Diana’s brow pinched together. She looked at me. I kept chewing my melon, thinking, Well, here we go. The secret-love-child plot. Classic. But honestly, a daughter didn’t bother me. This family has more than enough money to go around. “And?” I asked through a mouthful of fruit. “She’s been at the gate for two hours. Security told her to leave, but she refused to budge,” Walter said. “She says she won’t leave until she sees the Chairwoman.” “Bring her in,” I said. “Let’s finish breakfast first, then we’ll deal with it.” Diana nodded in agreement. Walter bowed and left. Parker looked up at me. “Dad, aren’t you… worried?” “About what?” I asked, sliding a piece of bacon onto his plate. “What if she’s actually…” “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” I said. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.” Whether she was blood or not—that was a question for a lab tech. It wasn’t something I needed to lose sleep over. Jade’s first day in the house was a masterclass in performance art. She spent her time telling the staff how much she’d suffered growing up, subtly painting me as the “other man” who had dismantled her rightful family. But that was just the appetizer. The real show began when her father, Ray, showed up. The day before the DNA results were due, Jade brought him onto the estate. No warning, no permission. She just marched him right through the front door. Ray was in his late forties. When he stepped out of the car, he gawked at the house, muttering, “Jesus, look at this place. It’s a palace!” He walked into the living room, crashed onto the designer sofa, and crossed his legs. He looked at a maid and snapped, “Get me some tea. Earl Grey. High-end stuff, don’t give me the cheap tea bags.” The maid looked at me. I gave her a small nod. He took a sip of the tea, then wandered into the dining room. He ran a finger over the table. “Nice wood. Needs to be polished better, though. Can’t have scratches on a piece like this.” Then he went into the garden, pointing at the prize-winning rose bushes. “Too bright. I don’t like roses. We’ll rip these out next week and plant lilies. I’ve always been a lily man.” Our head gardener looked like he was about to have a stroke. At lunch, Ray sat himself down before anyone else, grabbing a fork and digging in. “Fish is good. Shrimp is decent. The soup is a bit salty, tell the chef to dial it back next time.” He critiqued every bite. Parker sat with his fork hovering in mid-air, unsure if he was even allowed to eat. Chase leaned back, his eyes turning cold and dangerous. Diana wasn’t home; she was still at the office. “Ray,” I said, finally speaking up. “How are you feeling? Jade mentioned you were quite ill.” Ray waved a hand dismissively, his mouth full of sea bass. “Whatever. You should probably start thinking about where you’re going to live once those DNA results come back, Gavin.” “I wouldn’t worry about my living arrangements if I were you. Do you need me to call a doctor to look at you?” Ray’s expression flickered for a second. “No, no. I know my own body.” For a man on his deathbed, he had a hell of an appetite. I saw right through him, but I didn’t say a word. That afternoon, Ray started “reorganizing” the estate. He made the staff move the crystal vases because the “vibe” was off. He told them to change the table linens because the color was “unlucky.” He walked down the gallery, demanding the paintings be re-hung. “They look cluttered.” He even wandered into the garage and pointed at my red Ferrari. “I like this one. I’ll take the keys for this starting tomorrow.” The driver looked at him awkwardly. “Sir, that’s Mr. Gavin’s car.” Ray just shrugged. “He can get a new one.” Finally, he found his way into my walk-in closet. He stood there, staring at the walls of custom suits and watches, his eyes gleaming. He reached out and touched a Patek Philippe, his fingers lingering on the gold casing. “This is nice. I could get used to this.” He turned and saw me leaning against the doorframe. He froze for a second, then gave me a greasy smile. “Just looking, Gavin. Just opening my eyes to how the other half lives.” “Look all you want,” I said softly. 3 He spent twenty minutes in there. When he finally walked out, the look in his eyes had shifted entirely. I knew that look. It was greed. Pure, unadulterated entitlement. The look of a man who believed all of this already belonged to him. That evening, Diana came home. Ray transformed instantly. He became the picture of the tragic, pining lover—soft-spoken, fragile, heartbroken. He stood in the foyer, eyes downcast, his voice trembling. “Diana… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. But I just… I missed you so much.” He started to weep. Real, cinematic tears. Jade joined in, and the two of them held each other, sobbing loudly enough to wake the neighbors. Diana watched them, her face unreadable. She said only one thing: “The results come in tomorrow. Everything will be clear then.” Ray nodded, wiping his eyes. “Thank you, Diana. I don’t want anything for myself. I just want Jade to have her name. That’s all I need before I go.” I almost laughed out loud. He didn’t want anything? This was the same man who had been cruising in my Ferrari, eyeing my Patek, and demanding the roses be dug up. He didn’t want a “name.” He wanted the keys to the kingdom. The next morning, Ray stopped pretending altogether. He was up at 5:30 AM, barking orders at the kitchen staff. “This oatmeal is too thin! Do it over!” “The eggs are overcooked! I wanted them poached, not rubber!” “This milk is cold! Heat it up!” He was sitting in Diana’s chair at the head of the table, his feet up, picking at his teeth. When I walked down, I saw him there. I didn’t make a scene. “Morning, Ray. Sleep well?” He looked at me, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Not bad. Bed’s a bit soft, though. I’ll have the staff swap it for a firm orthopedic mattress tomorrow.” “Sure. I’ll let Walter know.” He spent the morning continuing his “renovations.” He moved the sofas. He tore down the artwork in the hallway, complaining they were “too depressing” and needed “bright floral prints” instead. Then he went back to the garden and pointed at the peonies. “These are tacky. Rip ’em out. I want red roses everywhere!” Our gardener finally snapped. “Sir, those peonies are Mr. Gavin’s favorite. He’s been tending them for five years!” Ray glared at him. “Who cares what he likes? We’ll see who’s running things by dinner time!” He leaned in closer to the gardener. “Besides, my daughter is the only real heir to this fortune. Remember that.” Parker heard that while we were playing chess in the sunroom. “Dad, did you hear what he said?” “I heard.” “You aren’t angry?” “What’s the point of being angry?” I moved a knight. “Let him play. Let him make as much noise as he wants. The louder they are, the harder they fall.” Parker thought about it, then grinned. “You’re letting him dig his own grave, aren’t you?” “Smart kid.” In the afternoon, Ray took the Ferrari out. When he came back, the car was stuffed with shopping bags. He had the staff carry everything to his room and then stood in the middle of the living room to make a grand announcement. “This house is far too dated. We’re doing a full remodel. I want the living room to be Neo-Classical, the dining room French Provincial, and the master suite should be old-world dark wood. We’re putting a fountain in the driveway and a gazebo in the back. And the pool? It’s embarrassing. We’re ripping it out and starting over!” He turned his gaze toward me. “You don’t mind, do you, Gavin? I’m just trying to look out for the family. This place hasn’t had a man’s touch in seventeen years.” I smiled. “Whatever makes you happy, Ray.” 4 He blinked, clearly surprised that I wasn’t putting up a fight. When Diana finally got home that night, Ray slipped back into his “feeble” persona. He brought a cup of tea to her study door, his voice a whisper. “You look exhausted, Diana. You work too hard.” Diana took the tea and gave him a long look. “You went out today?” Ray’s face paled slightly. “Yes… I did.” “In the Ferrari?” “I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have taken your car—” “That isn’t my car. It’s Gavin’s,” Diana said, her tone icy and flat. “You should have asked his permission.” Ray froze. The message was loud and clear: in this house, his opinion didn’t matter. Mine did. Ray forced a smile. “Of course. My mistake. I’ll apologize to Gavin tomorrow.” As he backed out of the room, the mask slipped. His face twisted into a look of cold, poisonous resentment. Back in the guest wing, Jade was waiting for him. “Dad? How did it go?” Ray slammed the door and hissed, “Diana is still protecting that man. She wouldn’t even let me touch the damn car!” “It doesn’t matter,” Jade said, her voice hard. “Once the DNA test comes back, how do we kick them out?” “Don’t rush!” Ray snapped. “Everything here belongs to us. If it wasn’t for that guy, I’d be the one living here. I’d be the one Diana came home to. I’d be the one driving that Ferrari!” He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes glowing with a manic intensity. “Tomorrow, when the results are read, you play the victim. Make sure Diana sees how much you’ve suffered. Then we make her throw that man and his two little brats out onto the street!” “I’m ready,” Jade replied instantly. “They’ve been living my life for too long. It’s time they gave it back.” She had been raised on this story for seventeen years. In her mind, she wasn’t an intruder. She was the rightful queen returning to her throne. On the day of the reveal, Diana stayed home. She sat in the library, the sealed envelope resting on the desk in front of her. Jade and Ray sat on one sofa; Parker, Chase, and I sat on the other. “Open it,” I said quietly. Diana tore the seal, pulled out the document, and flipped to the final page.

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