They all said I had a “playboy magnet syndrome.” Always falling for those bad-boy charmers. Later, I got pregnant out of wedlock and married my childhood sweetheart, Leon, from the upper crust. But to my surprise, Leon was smitten with his “pure and innocent” assistant. I terminated the pregnancy and filed for divorce. From then on, I decided to settle down, hoping to find a good man and live a quiet life. The second time, I chose a marriage of convenience that blossomed into love, marrying Nolan, a rising star in New York who claimed to have fallen for me at first sight. However, in our third year of marriage, I accompanied Nolan to a class reunion. A drunk old classmate gave him a thumbs-up, his words dripping with hidden meaning: “When it comes to devotion, Nolan, you’re definitely number one among us.” “Back then, Aurora dumped you for being poor, took all your money, and ran off abroad.” “But didn’t you end up marrying her anyway?” I froze. It turned out I had indeed found a good man, but the one he truly cherished and loved was never me. 1. Nolan shot to his feet, barking, “Shut your mouth!” The old classmate sobered up halfway, his gaze lingering on my face for a long time. From his odd expression, everything clicked into place. No wonder this promising New York elite had “fallen for me at first sight,” a divorced woman; No wonder he never allowed me to get a perm, always preferring me in white dresses; No wonder he tolerated all my petty whims with boundless patience. It turned out that before me, his heart was already occupied by a deeply ingrained college sweetheart. I picked up my phone, ready to leave. My wrist was suddenly grabbed. It didn’t hurt, but the nausea, a rising tide, washed over me. I pulled my hand free and slapped Nolan hard across the face. A collective gasp echoed through the room. Nolan wiped the blood from his lip, a cold smile twisting his mouth. After three years, I knew this was his precursor to rage. Back then, when I moved to New York with him, my ex-husband Leon followed. He tried to reconcile every day, coming up with different schemes outside our villa. When Nolan saw him, he smiled and asked if I wanted to go back to my ex. Before I could answer, he rolled up his sleeves and fought Leon. That night, he launched a corporate war against Leon’s family business at all costs. Only then did he force Leon back to the mainland. But now, what right did he have to be angry? I was the one being treated as a substitute. Just as I was about to leave, a woman in a white dress walked into the private room, smiling. With just one glance, I knew she was Nolan’s first love. The same white dress, the same long, dark, straight hair. Aurora noticed me too. A hint of understanding gradually appeared in her eyes. I bit my lip in shame, my nails digging hard into my palm. Aurora brushed past me, greeting Nolan with familiarity. “New girlfriend?” “She looks so much like me; you’re not still thinking of me, are you?” Nolan’s face grew even colder. “This is my wife. Show some respect!” Aurora lowered her head, her voice starting to tremble. “I didn’t know you were married. Why are you so mean to me?” Nolan instinctively crouched down, his tone becoming flustered. “Don’t cry, I apologize…” Before he could finish, Aurora covered her mouth, stifling a laugh. “Three or four years have passed, and you’re still so easily fooled by me.” Nolan gritted his teeth: “Aurora!” He was angry; she was laughing. Everyone else, however, seemed accustomed to their drama, quietly watching. I couldn’t take it anymore and stormed out. Behind me, Aurora’s malicious tease drifted. “Aren’t you going to chase her?” My steps faltered. But then I heard the man’s nonchalant reply: “Her temper isn’t as bad as yours; she’s easier to appease.” 2. I don’t remember how I got home. As I stepped through the door, the wedding photo hanging in the living room was especially jarring. Three years ago, Nolan claimed it was love at first sight, but I simply didn’t believe him. After all, a childhood sweetheart I’d known for over twenty years could betray me. How much less a stranger I’d only met once? But after my tumultuous divorce from Leon, my parents had blamed me, cutting off my credit cards. And because I had no concrete evidence of Leon’s infidelity, the media fiercely attacked me, branding me as dramatic and high-maintenance. The other socialites my age in our circle were just waiting to see me fall. Everyone said I’d never find a husband better than Leon. I refused to believe it; I had to prove them wrong. Fortunately, I had gambled correctly on Nolan, a rising star. His devotion to me had secured a brilliant comeback. Those who mocked me for trading a watermelon for a sesame seed were silenced. But it wasn’t until tonight that I truly understood: my so-called “love at first sight” was built upon the lingering embers of his past love. My stomach began to churn. I rushed to the bathroom, throwing up until I was completely drained. Afterward, I walked into the study, a room I’d never dared to enter. Among the numerous economics books, a worn, old diary stood out conspicuously. My hands trembling, I opened it. A photograph fluttered out. Nolan, in his graduation gown, gazed with deep affection at the girl beside him. The man I remembered as calm even in a fight, was, in this diary, just an ordinary person who felt jealousy and sorrow. [She said I had no future with her, that she was breaking up with me to go abroad.] [I didn’t agree, but she still left, taking all my money with her.] [That cruel woman, when she returns, I’ll make sure her life is hell.] The words on this page were blurred by water stains, the paper slightly wrinkled. I turned the page. [I met a woman who looks a lot like her.] [On our wedding day, I texted her.] [As long as she came back, I would marry her.] [She didn’t come, I won’t wait for her anymore.] My vision blurred. So, while I was excitedly planning our wedding, Nolan was waiting for another woman to return and stop the ceremony. The sound of a key in the lock echoed from the hallway. I didn’t move. Until Nolan rushed in. Seeing the diary in my hand, Nolan’s voice was laced with an icy chill. “Who told you to touch my things? Give it back.” On the day he proposed, Nolan, wanting to reassure me, had voluntarily transferred half of his company shares to me as a gift. After our marriage, he had been completely open with me. His phone was never password-protected, and his whereabouts were always reported in real-time. But now, merely because I had touched something related to Aurora, he was furious. I gave a hollow laugh, “With someone else living in your heart, are you still worried about me looking?” He didn’t answer, just reached out to snatch it. I clung on, refusing to let go. He began to pry my fingers, one by one. The sound of cracking bones was clearly audible. My face went ashen with pain, and I hurled the diary at him with all my strength. “If you love your first love so much, why did you marry me?” He rubbed his temples in frustration. “That’s all in the past. Don’t be unreasonable.” “Then dare you look me in the eye and say you married me because you love me?” I met his gaze, unflinching. Nolan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His eyes flickered away for a fraction of a second. The next moment, he let out a cold, angry laugh. “You want the truth?” “Fine, I’ll tell you.” “I married you because you looked like her.” “But these past three years, haven’t I been good enough to you?” It was precisely because he had been too good. So good that I believed he loved me, that his obedience stemmed from genuine affection. But in reality? Leon was fickle, always seeking novelty. Nolan, however, was nostalgic. But his affection, it was always for his first love. Watching him carefully pick up the diary, I felt nothing but bitter irony. “Nolan, let’s get a divorce.” 3. Nolan paused, then said impatiently: “Samantha, can you please stop being dramatic?” “As the lady of the Nolan family, who in New York doesn’t show you respect?” “Divorcing me now will only make you a laughingstock.” Those words were eerily familiar. When I divorced Leon, he had said the same thing. He claimed he only had a slight fondness for his assistant. He claimed there was no actual infidelity, telling me not to make a scene. But I refused a man whose heart belonged to another. If I could leave him then, I could also decide to divorce Nolan now. “Tomorrow morning at nine, I’ll see you at the registry office.” With that, I turned to walk past him. But Nolan grabbed my shoulder. “Samantha, don’t be so childish.” “No one wants to marry a woman who’s been divorced twice and had an abortion.” I suddenly couldn’t see the man in front of me clearly. When I cried and told him about my past with Leon, he had held me tenderly, saying he wished he’d met me sooner. Perhaps the sadness in my eyes was too obvious, because Nolan’s tone softened slightly. “I’m sorry, I just…” Before he could finish, his phone rang. I glanced down; there was no caller ID. Nolan hesitated, then answered. “Drunk driving? I’m not bailing you out.” “When you took all my money and left the country, you didn’t think about my situation either!” Every word was disdainful, yet it betrayed his deep concern. Even in the midst of our divorce argument, Aurora’s call took precedence. Seeing his eagerness to go and bail her out, I forced a smile. “So eager to see your ex? At least let’s discuss the divorce first.” Nolan frowned deeply. “Stop overthinking.” “She just got back to the country, she’s unfamiliar with everything.” “I’m her ex-boyfriend, after all; I’m just helping with a small favor.” He grabbed his car keys and hurried out. With a bang, I was left alone in the study. I went back to the bedroom and started packing. Not long after, a friend request popped up on my phone. The profile picture was a simple cartoon cat. Nolan’s profile picture, on the other hand, was a puppy. Even after all this time apart, he hadn’t bothered to change their couple’s avatars. After accepting the request, Aurora didn’t send any messages. I opened her social media feed and saw a completely different Nolan. He would let her draw all over his face with lipstick; He would take her to amusement parks, posing for those silly photo booth pictures; He would even personally cook brown sugar water for her during her period. And these posts were all from three years ago. Before Nolan had even met me. Just then, Aurora posted a new update. [Bad girls get everything.] The location was the most famous romantic hotel. The accompanying picture showed intertwined hands, a post-coital snapshot. The man wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Only a white indent was left on his ring finger. Nolan couldn’t even wait for the month-long divorce process to be over.

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I was the spoiled fiancée of two supreme beast-men. Dustin, the grey wolf, fed me every day, and Nolan, the snow leopard, bathed me. Until the betrothal ceremony dinner, when they walked up to me with a new female from their pack. Dustin, who used to be so gentle and attentive, now looked at me with impatience. Nolan coldly shook my hand away. “We’ve decided to let Anya join the betrothal selection. You’re too delicate; you’re simply not suitable to be the mate of a supreme beast-man.” As I stood there, dumbfounded, a stream of golden text suddenly appeared before my eyes: [The overgrown baby is finally abandoned, rejoice!] [Does anyone else think this behavior is really bad? Why is the female lead stealing someone else’s mates, even using powerful pheromones…] [Oh my god, sis, don’t empathize with an NPC, okay?! The useless original fiancée isn’t as important as our beloved female lead’s grand mission!] [Exactly! Once the female lead fully binds these two supreme beast-men, forget the original fiancée—anyone who stands in her way will die!] All eyes in the room instantly fell on me. The Elder, seated at the head table, sighed and tapped his staff. “You are the primary partner. Whether you agree to the contract is your decision.” … “Is that Anya? I heard she came alone from the wilderness.” “Indeed, surviving the wilderness alone means she’s incredibly capable.” “Look how efficiently she works; she’s even stronger than our own female beast-men.” “Now look at Samantha…” Someone spoke in a low voice, but just loud enough for me to hear. The golden text continued to float by. [Hahaha, the famous scene is finally here!] [What nerve does that useless original fiancée have to stand there, she can’t even stand by herself] [Once Anya takes over, this pack will be saved] The golden words floated around, invisible to others, visible only to me. Since the day Anya moved in, these comments hadn’t stopped. At first, I wondered what they were, but then I realized some things they said were true, some were guesses, and some were pure nonsense. But they seemed to really like Anya. I was about to speak when Anya suddenly stepped forward. “Elder, may I say something?” The Elder glanced at me, and seeing I had no intention of stopping her, nodded. Anya’s eyes were sincere and frank. “Samantha, I know today is your big day, and I shouldn’t interrupt, but…” She paused, then turned to Dustin and Nolan. “If they truly don’t want to be chosen by you, forcing them together won’t bring happiness.” “I don’t want to see them in a difficult position, nor do I want to see you unhappy later.” “How about this? After Samantha makes her choice, the one who’s left, if he’s willing to be with me, we can try.” The entire room erupted in murmurs. [Wow, what vision! So generous, this is a true female lead!] [Compared to that useless original fiancée, I’m practically crying] Dustin and Nolan simultaneously looked at Anya, their eyes filled with emotion. Then they looked at me, their gaze conveying only one message: Please don’t choose me. Please don’t choose me… I slowly raised my head. Due to my delicate health, my movements were always slow. Dustin frowned: “Hurry up, don’t drag it out.” I looked at him and smiled. “Rules are rigid, but people are adaptable. What if I want both?” Dustin’s eyes instantly widened: “What did you say?” Nolan’s face darkened: “Samantha, don’t be ridiculous.” Anya froze, her expression momentarily losing control. [She can do that???] [The original fiancée must have lost her mind! They don’t love her, why would she want both?] [Wait, she’s not thinking of…] The Elder also froze: “Samantha, that’s not according to the rules…” “Who made the rules?” I asked. “Our ancestors passed them down…” “The rules passed down by our ancestors allow the female to choose her preferred mate, but they never said a female couldn’t choose two.” I paused, then looked at Dustin and Nolan. “From childhood, they’ve always been together. Why should I separate them?” Dustin’s face turned red with anger: “Samantha! What do you take us for?” “My fiancés. That’s what you are.” Nolan spoke coldly: “We’re not willing.” I nodded: “I know, but the betrothal ceremony is for me to choose you, not for you to choose me.” Anya spoke, her voice tightening. “Samantha, this isn’t very nice… A forced melon isn’t sweet.” I looked at her and smiled. “Whether it’s sweet or not is my business. Didn’t you say you wanted the one who was left over?” “Now that I want both, there’s nothing left for you.” Anya’s face instantly stiffened, forcing out a strained smile: “Sister, you’re joking, I didn’t mean that…” I turned to the Elder. “Elder, I just have one question. According to the rules, do I have the right to claim both?” The Elder was silent for a long time. The surrounding crowd began to whisper. Finally, the Elder sighed. “Theoretically… it’s not forbidden, but no female has ever done so before.” “Then I’ll be the first.” The Elder looked at me with a complex expression, then slowly nodded. “If you insist, yes, but Samantha, you must think carefully.” “Contracting both means they must obey you. Can you bear the consequences of two contracts?” “Do they obey me now?” I countered. The Elder remained silent. “A contract is a contract, and feelings are feelings.” I said in a low voice. “I want the contract because it’s what I’m owed. As for feelings… if they’re capable, they won’t give them.” Dustin and Nolan looked at me, their eyes showing confusion— What did I mean, “what I’m owed”? The golden text was silent for a few seconds, then someone wrote: [Anya is dumbfounded, what about her mission?] Anya stood in the crowd, her expression barely held together. “The contract ceremony is in three days. Be sure to be on time.” Then I looked at Anya and smiled: “Sorry, I didn’t leave any for you.” Anya forced a smile: “Sister is joking, I never intended…” I didn’t wait for her to finish, turning and walking away. The golden text continued to pop up frantically: [What about Anya? Can the system mission still be completed?] [I suddenly feel this original fiancée isn’t simple…] [Could she be doing this on purpose? Deliberately disrupting the rhythm?] [How could she? She just got lucky] [Lucky? You call contracting both lucky? It’s clearly a calculated move] [What are you arguing about? Just watch what happens next!] I walked slowly, but a faint smile played on my lips. The golden text was right; I was doing it on purpose. … The first morning after the banquet. Anya sat on the edge of her bed. Her tent wasn’t large, but it was meticulously tidy. She had come alone from the wilderness to this pack, and the only place she could settle was in this area. Suddenly, the tent flap was pushed open. Dustin and Nolan walked in together. Anya looked up, a surprised expression on her face: “Why are you here?” Dustin looked at her, opening his mouth, seemingly unsure how to begin. Nolan was more direct: “We came to tell you something.” “What is it?” “In three days, we will be contracted to Samantha.” Anya’s smile froze for a moment but quickly returned. She lowered her head, softly saying, “I know… it’s the rules.” Dustin became agitated: “Anya, we just want you to know that even if we’re contracted, our hearts are with you.” Anya looked up at him, her eyes slightly red. Nolan nodded, his voice deep. “The contract is forced, but feelings are free.” Anya’s tears welled up, but she forced a brave smile. “Don’t say that… Samantha is your contracted mate.” Dustin clenched his fist: “But we don’t want her!” Anya shook her head, her voice soft: “You can’t force feelings, but the contract is the rule.” “You… must keep your promise.” She paused. “I’ll always be here.” Dustin reached out to pull her closer, then withdrew his hand. Nolan looked at Anya, a hint of tenderness in his eyes. Anya forced another smile. “You two should go back. Don’t let people gossip. As for the contract… let nature take its course.” After they left, Anya’s expression slowly turned cold. She looked at the tent flap, biting her lip gently. Later that afternoon, I was dozing against the headboard when the tent flap was suddenly pushed open. Dustin strode in, followed by Nolan. Both of them looked quite grim. I slowly sat upright: “Rare visitors.” Dustin ignored my sarcastic tone and went straight to the point: “Samantha, we want to talk to you.” “About what?” Nolan chimed in: “You can choose one of us, or neither, and we promise to treat you well afterward.” I looked at them and smiled: “Treat me well? How, exactly?” Dustin frowned: “We’ll take care of you, like before, but a contract is unnecessary. We’re not suitable.” “Like before?” I slowly repeated. “Like before, you’d find me bothersome, shake off my hand? Like before, you’d flirt with other women right in front of me?” Dustin choked on his words. Nolan’s face grew colder. “It’s a fact that we don’t love you. Forcing us together won’t benefit anyone.” “Don’t love me?” I tilted my head, looking at him. “Nolan, hand on heart, you didn’t say that fifteen years ago.” Nolan froze: “Fifteen years ago?” “Nothing.” I averted my gaze. “The contract is what I’m owed. If you want to cancel it, you can.” Their eyes lit up. I continued: “After you’ve repaid what you owe me, then we can talk.” Dustin’s brows furrowed: “What exactly do we owe you?” I looked at them and smiled: “Figure it out yourselves.” Dustin was about to say more, but Nolan stopped him, giving me a deep look. “Let’s go.” The two turned and left. I watched the swaying tent flap, then slowly lay back down on the bed. Outside the tent, Dustin and Nolan walked side-by-side along the path. Neither spoke. After a few steps, Dustin suddenly stopped, looking down at his wrist. There was an old, faint scar there. He had never known where it came from; he’d had it since childhood, and his parents said they didn’t remember. “Nolan, do you remember how you got that tooth mark on your neck?” Nolan touched the side of his neck. There was a small, very faint tooth mark there. “No, I don’t.” They exchanged a glance, neither speaking. Unanimously, they walked back towards Anya’s tent. Anya was cooking something. Seeing them enter, she paused: “What’s wrong?” Dustin opened his mouth: “We just went to see Samantha.” Anya’s hands paused in their motion. “She agreed to cancel?” “No.” Nolan shook his head. “She said… she’d talk after we’d repaid what we owe her.” Anya frowned: “What do you owe her?” “I don’t know, she mentioned fifteen years ago…” Dustin ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Anya’s heart leaped. Fifteen years ago? She quickly scanned the system panel, visible only to her. It only showed affinity and mission progress, no information about the “past.” She quickly adjusted her expression, saying gently: “She probably just made it up to fool you.” Dustin nodded: “I thought so too.” Nolan, however, remained silent, thoughtfully touching his neck. Anya noticed, a prickle of unease rising within her. “No matter what she says, I believe in you both.” “As for the contract… don’t be too hard on yourselves. I’ll always be here waiting for you.” Dustin was moved: “Anya…” Anya shook her head and smiled: “I’m fine. You two should go back.” After they left, Anya stared at the system panel, gritting her teeth. Three days passed in a flash. The area around the altar in the heart of the pack was packed with people. I stood by the altar, dressed in a plain white ceremonial robe. Dustin and Nolan stood on the other side of the altar, both in black beast-patterned ceremonial attire. Both their faces were expressionless. The Elder walked onto the altar, leaning on his staff, and the entire crowd fell silent. “Today, Samantha will perform the contract ceremony with Dustin and Nolan.” “According to the rules, once the contract is complete, neither party may renege. Samantha, are you sure?” I nodded: “I am.” The Elder looked at Dustin and Nolan: “As the chosen ones, do you have any objections?” Dustin’s lips moved, but in the end, he said nothing. Nolan glanced at me, his eyes complex, but he also remained silent. Just as the Elder was about to continue reciting the contract vows, a voice suddenly rang out from the crowd: “Wait!” Everyone turned. Anya stepped out. “Elder, I have something to say.” The Elder frowned: “Anya? What is it?” Anya took a deep breath, her voice amplified so the whole crowd could hear. “I cannot stand by and watch the pack be deceived. Samantha… she might be a descendant of the demon tribe.” The entire crowd gasped. Dustin’s head snapped up: “What did you say?” Nolan’s face changed, and he stared intently at Anya. I stood my ground, unmoving. The golden text before my eyes continued to pop up. [Here it comes, here it comes! Anya made her move!] [She was so fast when she slipped the chip into the detection stone] [That chip must be from the system, right? It can simulate demonic energy] [Perfect crime, the original fiancée is dead meat] [Anya is awesome!] The corners of my mouth curved slightly. Thank you, guys, for more intel. Anya pulled out a palm-sized stone from her embrace, holding it high for everyone to see. “This is the pack’s detection stone. If she’s a demon, the stone will turn black.” An old man nodded: “It is indeed a detection stone, passed down by our ancestors.” The Elder took the stone, examined it carefully, then looked at me hesitantly. “Samantha, will you… consent to the test?” All eyes in the room fell on me. Dustin and Nolan stared intently. If I was a demon, the contract would automatically be voided, and they would be free. Anya stood at the front of the crowd, her face filled with worry. I looked at Anya and slowly smiled. “Test, of course.” The Elder handed me the stone. I took it, holding it in my palm, feeling the warmth emanating from it. After just three seconds, the stone began to turn black. Starting with a small patch, it quickly spread, until the entire stone became ink-black. At the same time, wisps of black energy emanated from my hand, where I held the stone, swirling around my wrist. The crowd gasped in unison: “It really is a demon!” Some recoiled, some screamed, some shouted, “Seize her!” Dustin’s eyes were wide, staring at me in disbelief. Nolan’s hand was already on the hilt of his blade at his waist. Anya stood at the front of the crowd, her expression shifting from worry to heartbroken dismay. “Samantha, you… you actually are…” I stood on the altar, black energy swirling around me. But I wasn’t panicked; I was even smiling. The Elder’s face was solemn, about to speak, when I suddenly raised the stone in my hand and violently smashed it onto the ground— With a crack, the stone shattered, fragments scattering everywhere. A glowing chip rolled out from the debris, flashing with a faint light on the ground. Elder Harris quickly stepped forward, bent down to pick up the chip, and examined it closely. His face grew strange. “This is…” He looked up at Anya. “An induction chip. A crystal that can simulate demonic energy. If you insert it into a detection stone, the stone will turn black and emit black energy.” Instantly, everyone’s gaze shifted from me to Anya. Anya’s face instantly went pale. I bent down, picked up a fragment of the detection stone from the ground, and weighed it in my hand. Then I looked at Anya and smiled.

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My best friend had a first love she couldn’t forget. Often, late at night, she’d drink herself silly, murmuring how much she missed him. I’d wipe away her tears: “If you love each other, you should be together.” She pushed me away: “Zara, you don’t understand.” On the eve of my wedding, I was in a car accident and miscarried. The next day, texts of my best friend being harassed came through. Ignoring my own pain, I braved a blizzard, driving four hours to Riverton. Outside her building, I watched her being pulled into a man’s embrace. My best friend’s familiar voice drifted to me: “Why are you even here?! You should have just stayed away six years ago when I abandoned you, never to reappear.” I felt as if the snow had frozen me solid. That man was my fiancé, Frank Hayes. 1 I couldn’t believe it. Just a few hours ago, he was at my bedside, gently wiping away the tears from my eyes: “Zara, I’ll go make you your favorite corn and pork rib soup, okay?” He kissed the corner of my mouth, promising to be right back. So, it must just be a similar silhouette. I hid behind a lamppost, my fingers stiff as I texted Frank: [Frank, where are you?] A minute passed. No reply. He usually replied instantly. Under the streetlight, Layla forcefully pushed away the man in her arms. “Get away from me!” The dim, yellow streetlight illuminated his profile: his nose, the faint scar between his eyebrows. That scar, he got it protecting me. It really was Frank Hayes. I gripped my phone, my knuckles white. His voice was cold, unfamiliar, “Layla, don’t flatter yourself.” “Tell me to get away? Who was it just now, clinging to me, saying they were scared? Six years have passed, and when trouble hits, the first call is still to me. Is that all you amount to?” Layla looked up, her eyes crimson. “I’m flattering myself?” “Then what are you doing here?! Frank Hayes, abandoning your miscarried fiancée to rush here for what?!” She laughed, tears streaming down her face. “Are you happy to see me like this, so pathetic? Feel relieved? Do you think I deserve this for all the bad things I’ve done?!” Frank’s face tensed for a moment, but he didn’t answer. Layla wiped her face, turning to leave. Frank reached out and gripped her wrist. “Let go.” He didn’t. “Frank Hayes, I told you to let go!” He pulled her into his embrace. She struggled, hitting and kicking him, but he remained unmoving. “I didn’t mean it that way.” Finally, her strength gave out. She buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking. “Do you think I wanted to find you?” “Frank Hayes, do you know, when that person blocked my way, all I could think of was you? You never used to let me suffer such indignity.” “Do you really think I’ve been doing well these six years without you?” He lowered his head, his chin resting on her hair. “Layla, if you hadn’t left back then, in my plans, we should have a child by now.” “But why now, of all times?” The surroundings fell silent. The cold wind seeped into my collar, numbing my hands and feet. My phone screen glowed. Frank’s message, still unanswered. 2 I slumped against the lamppost, utterly drained. My heart felt as if it were being squeezed, too painful to speak. So, Layla’s first love was Frank Hayes. The first love she’d always mentioned whenever she drank too much. She would repeatedly talk about how much he loved her. How he would awkwardly write a love letter every day, how he would light up the entire city with fireworks for her, how he would give up an opportunity to go abroad for her. I’d asked, “Then why did you break up?” She’d propped herself on the bar, eyes red: “I was terrified of being poor. I took his mother’s five million and ran. Even when he knelt in the rain for two days, begging me, I didn’t waver.” “Love and romance mean nothing compared to tangible money. I’m just that kind of wicked person.” The first time I introduced them, they clearly didn’t get along, barely even glancing at each other. After that, neither attended any gatherings where the other was present. I never would have imagined they had such a dramatic past. The year I met Frank, I was only seventeen. My teenage worries weren’t about grades or a secret crush; they were about my grandfather, who would knock on my door every night. That day, he got drunk and started smashing the door. I jumped out the window and ran, finding refuge in a bar. I sat in a corner, trembling, hugging my knees. “You shouldn’t be here.” I looked up. Frank stood before me, his gaze sweeping over my school uniform. I assessed the mature man before me, then whispered: “What do you mean, ‘shouldn’t’? Then why are you here?” He sat down, pushing a glass of warm water towards me. “Got dumped, alright?” “Said it was forever, then just tossed it aside.” We talked for a long time. Later, Wednesday nights at that bar became our unspoken ritual. The day my grandfather picked the lock, Frank kicked in the door. He took off his jacket and draped it over me, pinning my grandfather to the ground, punching him repeatedly until his face was covered in blood. Everyone told me to tolerate it, that he was my grandfather. My father even threatened that if I called the police, the house would no longer be mine. It was Frank. He told me not to be afraid; he would handle it. He found me a lawyer and had my grandfather sent to prison. He took me into his apartment, letting me focus on my college entrance exams. That was the first time I knew that someone would truly protect me. In my first year of college, I plucked up the courage to ask him: “Frank Hayes, will you love me?” He froze. After a moment, he said, “What if one day, someone becomes more important than me?” I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “You’re the most important.” We became a couple, and he truly was wonderful to me. Things I didn’t know, he patiently taught me. Experiences I hadn’t had, he guided me through one by one. He said, “Zara, you don’t need to feel inferior. What you can do, others might not; what you can’t, I’ll slowly teach you.” He knew I had nightmares, so he’d call every night before bed to tell me stories. He knew I loved roasted chestnuts, so he’d travel halfway across the city in winter to buy them for me. There would never be another person in this world who would be so good to me. I believed we would live happily ever after. But now. He stood there, abandoning me, who was still waiting for him. Lost in an embrace with my best friend. He had taught me so much. How to solve problems, how to protect myself, how not to trust others easily. But he never taught me. What to do when I discovered his heart belonged to someone else. 3 My mind was a chaotic mess. One moment, it was him making soup for me; the next, it was him holding her. One moment, it was his promise of “I’ll be right back”; the next, it was his question, “Why now, of all times?” I gripped my phone tightly. Just give our six years a chance. What if? What if he just wanted closure? What if he was still the Frank who would fight for me? I pressed the call button. On the third ring, he answered. “Zara? What’s wrong?” I opened my mouth, but my throat was too dry to speak. “Frank. Where are you?” A second of silence on the other end. “Something urgent came up; I left in a hurry. I’ve asked the housekeeper to make your soup and send it over. You’ll drink it all, won’t you?” I stared at the man ten meters away. He held his phone, his back to me, his shoulders dusted with snow. “You’re not here, I can’t drink it.” His voice softened: “Be good. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done. Are you feeling better? Does it still hurt?” “Zara, once I’m through with this, I’ll take you away to relax. Haven’t you always wanted to go to Seaside City? We’ll stay there for a few days, and I’ll spend some quality time with you.” As he said this, Layla lifted her head from his embrace, her eyes red. He reached up, gently brushing the snowflakes from her hair. “Frank,” I called him. “Hmm?” “Where are you… on your business trip?” Layla pulled free from his arms, dragging her leg as if to leave. He reached out to grab her, his tone anxious: “Zara, I have an emergency here. Can I call you back later, okay?” The moment my phone screen darkened, he gripped Layla’s wrist. She looked up, her eyes crimson, staring at him. “You’re talking to her on the phone, telling her you care, while standing here holding onto me?” “How can you do both at the same time?” Yes. Frank Hayes. How could you tell me you loved me on the phone, only to turn around and hold her? Layla pushed him away, dragging her injured leg outwards. He chased after her, scooping her up into his arms. “Your foot’s hurt. I’m taking you to the hospital.” She froze, then began to struggle. “Frank Hayes, put me down—!” He said nothing, walking towards his car. “You’re holding me, and you’re still wearing her ring. It’s a constant reminder that you’re going to marry someone else!” “How can I feel safe accepting your kindness?!” He stopped, looking down at his hand. On the day he proposed, he knelt on one knee, holding that ring, his hand trembling. “Zara.” “This is the only proposal I’ll ever make, the only person I’ll ever love.” Beneath the Whispering Peak, by Emerald Serenity. I was utterly defeated by his sincerity. I said yes. He put the ring on my finger, his eyes red-rimmed. “Once it’s on, don’t ever take it off.” “No matter what happens, don’t take it off.” That was the first time I’d ever seen him cry. After that, he truly never took it off once. But now. He lowered his head, biting the ring with his teeth, and removed it. “Stop making a fuss, okay?” She froze, allowing him to carry her and place her in the passenger seat. I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move a single step. The car slowly pulled away. As it passed me, I was only two meters from him. If he had just turned his head slightly. He would have seen his fiancée, having just suffered a miscarriage, standing behind this lamppost in a blizzard, trembling as she watched him. He would have seen the tears on my face, my frozen hands, my phone clutched in my grasp, its screen still lit with the message he hadn’t replied to. He never once turned his head. I looked down at my hand. The ring was still there. The same plain platinum band. The same initials. Frank Hayes. These past six years, was I just a substitute, a shadow you used to fill the void after she left? Did you ever truly love me? 4 My stomach twisted in agonizing cramps, as if something was being torn from me. I collapsed onto my knees in the snow, watching the car disappear into the distance, unmoving for a long time. My phone vibrated. It was Layla. [Zara, I’m at the hospital, don’t worry.] [I’m planning to get back together with him.] [All these years, I thought he would hate me, but he didn’t. The moment something happened to me, he was more frantic than anyone. When he pinned the person harassing me to the ground and beat him, I realized he could go crazy for me to that extent.] Tears splattered on the screen, blurring the words. [He said he waited six years for me.] [Zara, I’m so happy.] [You’ll bless us, won’t you?] I don’t know how I drove to the hospital. My hands, gripping the steering wheel, wouldn’t stop trembling. The hospital corridor lights were blindingly white. Through the glass on the door, I saw them. Layla leaned against the headboard, her face pale, her foot wrapped in bandages. Frank held a bowl of chicken soup. “Eat something,” he said. She didn’t move. “Layla.” She turned her face away, her voice muffled: “It’s all oil, so many calories.” “I’m a model. If I get fat, how will I work? Who will feed me if I lose my job?!” He offered the spoonful of soup again, sighing: “Haven’t I given you enough work already? Not enough? Well, you can worry about that after you’re well.” The year Layla said she wanted to be a model, I asked him for help. He hadn’t even looked up: “Someone with her conditions can’t be a model.” Yet he found people, taking her from Riverton to international stages. At the time, I thought, he’s so good; he cares about my affairs. Now I woke up to the truth. Was it really because of me, or was it because of her, the one he couldn’t forget? I rarely saw Frank in such a humble posture. Layla lowered her head and drank the chicken soup he offered. “Remember the cereal you loved most in high school? After you left, I searched every supermarket and couldn’t find it. I realized the company went out of business and stopped producing it.” “But I bought that cereal factory. You’ll be able to eat it again soon.” Layla’s tears slowly welled up, her voice trembling. “Frank Hayes, why are you so good to me?” He didn’t answer. Then she raised her hand and knocked the bowl of chicken soup to the ground. Soup splattered everywhere, the bowl shattered, porcelain shards flying to his feet. “Layla, what madness are you indulging in now?!” “Frank Hayes, don’t you know, I don’t deserve any of this!” “Zara’s car accident and miscarriage, I arranged it!” A deafening boom echoed in my mind, as if something had exploded. I leaned against the wall, my fingertips digging into the tile grout. So that nightmare, it wasn’t an accident after all. The voices from the hospital room continued. “She’s my best friend, but I still did it.” “Because I knew! Between you and her, I had to make a choice. I love you! I couldn’t let you go, so I had to do this!” “Six years ago, I abandoned you. Now I’ve killed your child. I’m so wicked. Do you still dare to be good to me?” Layla’s sobs were broken, but he still didn’t speak. A long, long silence. So long that I thought he would lash out at her. So long that I thought he would demand justice for me and our child. Then he raised his hand and wiped away her tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry.” She froze. “Frank Hayes, are you deaf? I said I arranged it. I had someone hit her—” “I heard you.” “Then you still—” “Before I fell in love with you, weren’t you always this kind of person?” Frank pulled her into his embrace. She no longer struggled, resting quietly against his chest, her shoulders trembling. Through that glass door, I watched it all. Many images suddenly flooded my mind. The day the pregnancy test showed two lines, he had joyfully spun me around the living room until I was dizzy. He had chosen so many names, for a boy, for a girl, covering the refrigerator with them. That day I woke up in the hospital, he held my hand and said it was okay, we were still young, we would have another. But then he turned and called someone in the hallway, saying the other party must pay the price. It turned out his anger was only reserved for strangers. When that person was Layla. He didn’t care about anything. I wanted to rush in and confront him. How could you do this to me? I wanted to say, do you know how much pain I’m in? Do you know I still can’t sleep, and when I close my eyes, all I see is the blinding light of the operating room? But I didn’t even have the courage to push that door open. I ran, fled in despair. Bursting out of the hospital, when the wind blew, I realized my face was drenched in tears.

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After successfully redeeming the second male lead, I took him away from Kingswood. Far from the accident-prone, destined-to-ruin-his-family, and castrated female lead. Yet, later, he abandoned me, laid up in the hospital after a miscarriage, and returned to Kingswood at her single phone call. He didn’t know that this time, I wouldn’t save him again. After all, the mission was complete, and I’d received the system’s billion-dollar reward. To earn more billions, I immediately rushed off to redeem the tragic third male lead. What can I say? I’m bound to a Redemption System. The system rules: redeem one tragic male supporting character, and I get a billion dollars. A person shouldn’t, at least, shouldn’t ignore a billion dollars, right? 1 On the fourth year of redeeming Luke Thompson, he personally held me down on an operating table. He forced me to abort the child I was carrying, nearly five months along. I watched him in silence. Luke awkwardly averted his gaze, too guilty to meet my eyes, yet his words were unyielding: “Darling, Clara miscarried…” “If she knew you were carrying my child, she’d be heartbroken.” “Don’t worry, we’re still young. We can have children later.” “When I get back from Kingswood, we’ll start fresh, okay?” “I swear, this is the last time! Just let me help Clara teach James Carter a lesson, help her secure her standing in the Carter family, and I’ll be right back…” With that, Luke released my hand and left without a backward glance. The operating room door slammed shut, bringing with it a chill wind that made me shiver. I sighed deeply, closing my reddened eyes. “Go on, clean it all out!” Don’t delay my next redemption mission. After all, redeeming one tragic male supporting character earned me a billion-dollar reward from the system. A person shouldn’t, at least, shouldn’t ignore a billion dollars, right? 2 My name is Iris Mulligan. After binge-reading a hundred melodramatic novels online, I was forcibly bound by a system to this particular redemption drama. In the original story, Luke Thompson, as Clara Albright’s number one devotee, poured all his family’s wealth into a business war against the male lead, James Carter, to protect Clara. But to his shock, at the last moment, Clara and James reconciled. To help James win the business war, Clara secretly stole Luke’s company’s tender documents! After Luke’s bid failed and his company went bankrupt, he still silently stayed by Clara’s side. James, in turn, became jealous and broke up with Clara again. Clara, heartbroken, blamed everything on Luke. Finally, for Clara’s happiness, Luke, the tragic second male lead, resigned himself to being castrated by James so he could forever remain by Clara’s side to protect her. At the end of the story, Clara and James lived happily ever after. And Luke, after his family went bankrupt and he became a eunuch, watched Clara happily marry James, then contentedly jumped into the sea to his death… Reading that, I furiously left a comment: “My first half of life wasn’t too wicked, but reading this has balanced the scales. From now on, may I prosper and accumulate wealth, may even fate owe me three parts of good fortune, witnessed by the heavens, let this covenant be sealed!” The next second, my vision went black, and I dropped dead in my rented apartment. When I reopened my eyes, I was Clara Albright and Luke Thompson’s high school classmate. Eighteen-year-old Luke, wanting to avenge Clara, got into a massive fight with James Carter. The result, of course, was that he couldn’t beat James and ended up beaten black and blue. As the system-designated redeemer, I appeared by Luke’s side as a transfer student. Initially, I was extremely reluctant. Who in their right mind would try to redeem a tragic second male lead these days? Until the system said: “Successfully redeem the second male lead, saving him from his tragic fate of family ruin and castration by the male lead, and you will receive a billion-dollar reward from the system…” My expression changed in a second, a wide smile spreading across my face: “Mr. Thompson, your humble servant has arrived late!” 3 From then on, I became Luke Thompson’s number one devotee. Every student in school knew that I, the transfer student, had fallen in love with Luke at first sight, to the point of losing all dignity. The breakfast Luke sent to Clara? I made it myself. The tent Luke used to gaze at the stars and moon with Clara after her breakup? I set it up. The 5000-word essay Luke was forced to write by the dean for fighting James over Clara? I stayed up all night to write it for him. Luke was hospitalized after getting injured protecting Clara. Clara cried dramatically by his bedside while I bustled around, getting his medicine, changing his bandages, bringing water, and fetching meals. Clara became jealous, and Luke angrily told me to get lost. I shook my head, crying profusely. My desk-mate, Leo Vance, looked at me with an expression of utter exasperation. “Have all the men in the world died? Are you so desperate for him?” I nodded tearfully. “Yes! Only him! No one but Luke.” That’s a billion dollars walking around! I ask you all, who can refuse a billion dollars? And so, I redeemed Luke for three whole years. Finally, Clara decided to get engaged to James. The night before the engagement, Clara looked at Luke, her eyes brimming with tears: “Luke, I’m going to find my own happiness. Promise me, you’ll find yours too, okay?” To reassure the kind Clara, the next day, Luke took my hand and led me to her. “Clara, go chase your happiness. I’ve already found mine.” I was forced to be a part of their little game… My toes curled the entire time. For a billion dollars, I endured it!!! 4 After we married, to save Luke’s manhood, I sweet-talked and coaxed him into moving his company to Lakeshore. Away from Kingswood, away from Clara’s aura, Luke suddenly seemed to become normal. He actually wanted to seriously date me, with marriage in mind! I was scared to death and quickly contacted the system. “Do I have to marry Luke to get the billion dollars?” System: “Marriage is a must! Preferably a child too. Men, when they’re young, will live and die for love. But once they marry and become fathers, they settle down.” I suspected this system was actually my electronic mother-in-law. But I had no proof. To prevent the system from getting stuck at 99.99% like some online cash-out schemes, I seized the opportunity to force the system to agree: as long as Luke and I were married and I was pregnant with his child, the redemption mission would be considered a success. After reaching an agreement with the system, I quickly eloped with Luke. The night before the wedding, I saw Luke holding a box full of candy wrappers, sitting in his study all night. Having read the original novel, I knew those were the wrappers from the fruit candies Clara had given him since childhood. Luke couldn’t bear to throw away a single one, washing them all clean and hiding them in that tin box. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Actually, those free fruit candies were just taken by Clara from the cash register whenever she and James went out to eat. I don’t know what Luke was so touched by. 5 Honestly, I did once wonder if Luke and I could actually make it work. After all, Luke, away from Clara and the original plot, was genuinely a good husband prospect. Young, handsome, wealthy, and he was good to me. But then, the moment the bridesmaids opened the door and Luke walked in, carrying a pair of crystal heels, I felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head, snapping me back to reality. My forefoot is naturally wide; I can’t wear high heels. Before the wedding, I had specifically told Luke about this. Luke had laughed then, saying that if I couldn’t wear heels, then on our wedding day, he wouldn’t wear dress shoes either. He’d wear sneakers with me. But in just a few days, he had forgotten everything he’d promised me. It wasn’t me who loved crystal heels; it was Clara Albright. Luke held those crystal heels, kneeling on one knee before me. His gaze, looking at me, seemed to be seeing another girl he once deeply loved. I suppressed the last flicker of emotion in my heart and coldly pushed away the crystal heels Luke offered. “Luke, my feet can’t wear high heels. Before the wedding, I remember telling you this.” Luke froze, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I forgot… Anyway, the wedding is only for a short while, Darling. Can you just bear with it?” 6 I looked at him, then suddenly let out a laugh. “Luke, if the bride sitting before you today were Clara Albright, would you let her walk through the entire wedding in ill-fitting shoes?” At the mention of “Clara Albright,” Luke’s face changed. He silently picked up the crystal heels and left. When he returned, he was holding a pair of sneakers he’d casually grabbed from the shoe rack. Unfortunately, they were my old, worn ones. The bridesmaids’ faces immediately darkened. Leo stepped in front of me, blocking Luke, who was about to help me put on the shoes. His tone was sarcastic: “No way? The esteemed heir of Thompson Group isn’t going to let his bride walk down the aisle in a pair of secondhand sneakers, is he?” Luke looked impatient. “Then what do you want me to do? She said she can’t wear the crystal heels that were ordered in advance, and the procession is waiting downstairs. Where am I supposed to buy new sneakers on such short notice?” Leo stood his ground. “So, you’re saying it’s our bride’s fault? Luke, we’ve been classmates for years; you didn’t just find out today that Iris can’t wear high heels!” “And if I recall correctly, when we were preparing for the wedding, Iris told you she couldn’t wear high heels. What did you say then?” “You promised you’d wear sneakers with Iris today, but what happened?” “You could at least have bought a cheap pair of white sneakers! Who gets married wearing old shoes?” Wearing old shoes on your wedding day for the bride was practically calling her a discarded woman! The bridesmaids were furious, chastising Luke with a flurry of accusations. Luke’s face slowly paled. He looked at me, pleading, “Darling, it was my mistake to buy the wrong shoes, but the wedding is about to start. Where can I get you sneakers right now?” “Can’t you just bear with it? The sneakers will be hidden under your dress anyway. No one will see if they’re new or not…” Leo firmly blocked my way. “No! On her wedding day, the bride is paramount! If she has to suffer on her first day of marriage, will she have to suffer for the rest of her life?” Then, he glared at me, exasperated. “Iris Mulligan, can you stand up for yourself for once?” “If you dare walk down that aisle in those wretched shoes today, we’re done!” 7 I tugged on Leo’s sleeve, then pushed away the old shoes Luke offered. “Since the groom didn’t get any shoes, then I won’t wear any.” Saying that, I lifted the hem of my wedding dress and stood up barefoot. In the complete silence of the room, a surprised voice stood out prominently: “Well, it’s true, the barefoot aren’t afraid of those with shoes…” That day, I insisted on walking the entire wedding ceremony barefoot. After the ceremony, back in the hotel lounge, my feet were chafed and swollen, a terrible sight. Leo, his eyes red, threw a pair of hotel-branded slippers at me. “Iris Mulligan, just be a love-struck fool for the rest of your life!” I leaned in, affectionately hugging and swaying him. “Alright, my dear Leo, I promise, this is the last time!” I secretly vowed that once I got the system’s billion-dollar reward, Leo, my best friend, I would buy him a room full of his favorite limited-edition sneakers! But unfortunately, I broke my promise. That day’s humiliation was not the last. 8 Clara Albright, far away in Kingswood, miscarried. She cried and called Luke, but after learning I was also pregnant, she slammed the phone down. Luke, frantic, made inquiries and found out that James Carter’s mistress was pregnant and had come to confront Clara, who, in shock and rage, miscarried. Luke rushed back to Kingswood overnight. Watching him leave without a backward glance, I knew my redemption mission was probably nearing its finale. Sure enough, two days later, Luke returned, looking utterly exhausted. I was watering the bougainvillea on the balcony, my back slightly arched, the loose maternity dress stretched taut, faintly revealing the curve of my pregnant belly. Luke’s gaze at me was complex, carrying a hint of guilt, which ultimately transformed into immense courage and determination. “Darling, you should terminate the pregnancy.” “What?!” I looked at him in disbelief. Luke lowered his head, avoiding my gaze, his voice pained yet unusually resolute. “Clara miscarried.” “So?” Clara miscarried, it’s not my fault. What does that have to do with me? Luke suddenly looked up, his gaze fixed on my slightly protruding belly, his tone almost manic. “James Carter’s mistress is pregnant, and you’re pregnant too. You both have children. Why is Clara the only one who lost hers?” “Iris Mulligan, you have to abort your child!” “Clara is in a lot of pain right now. I’m planning to bring her here. She just lost her child; if she sees you heavily pregnant, she won’t be able to bear it.” “Darling, terminate the pregnancy. We’re still young. We’ll have many, many more children later…”

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My movie star girlfriend found fame, and the first thing she did was buy back the rights to my book to turn it into a TV series. To make the show a hit, my girlfriend, who never engaged with the public, lowered herself to create a fake romance with a popular young idol. The night filming wrapped, my book finally hit the trending list. But it was followed by the idol’s name. Matthew Sterling posted late at night: “I’ve been touched by this book countless times. I never expected that, in the end, this book would belong to me. Thank you, Cathy, for helping me fulfill a dream!” Attached was the copyright transfer contract for The Runaway Raven. The comments section erupted in teasing: “Matthew is exactly like the stubborn and passionate male lead in the book.” “I bet Selene saw that in him too, which is why she gave him the book rights, right? So much love! Cathy and Matthew, lock them down tight!” Selene Blackwood quietly liked this comment. It instantly went viral again. I stared at the screen, trembling, my entire body collapsing to the floor. Seven years of waiting, in this moment, finally released by my own hand. 1 Midnight struck, and Selene missed my birthday again. Half an hour later, the sound of keys turning in the lock came from outside. Selene was back. My gaze involuntarily drifted to the door. She casually tossed her coat onto the hanger in the entryway. Her eyes scanned the cake on the table, and her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. “I was very busy today. Birthdays come every year; it’s fine to miss one.” Selene impatiently pulled out her phone and tapped a few times. “I’ve transferred five thousand. Buy yourself whatever you want.” A pang of bitterness spread, my eyes growing hot. It was always that same line. But yesterday’s entertainment news headline still read—Selene lost a million-dollar endorsement just to make time to have dinner with Matthew Sterling. In the past, I would have thrown a fit. My tone was cold. “Celebrating my birthday really isn’t necessary. The book rights aren’t necessary either. And there’s no need for us to be together anymore.” Selene froze for half a second, as if she hadn’t registered it, and instinctively asked, “Just because of that book?” “You wrote it when you were eighteen, the writing is so amateurish. What do you regret?” “Forget it. If you insist on causing a scene, go ahead. Don’t expect me to come looking for you this time.” A bitter laugh twisted in my heart. When had she ever swallowed her pride first? Every time we argued because of Matthew, I was the one who always gave in. But not this time. I stood up, casually tossing the cake into the trash, and turned to go back to my room. From outside, I heard a loud crash, like a glass smashing on the floor. My steps didn’t falter. Hailing a cab, booking a hotel, checking in, arranging everything, it was already afternoon. My phone vibrated. It was a message from the director. Tonight was the celebration banquet for the show reaching the top of the ratings, and he had invited me to attend as the original author. He was a good friend of my father’s, so I couldn’t refuse. As soon as I reached the private room door, a chorus of cheers came from inside: “Cathy and Matthew were together in college, they were each other’s first loves!” My hand, reaching to push open the door, paused. Selene’s college boyfriend was Matthew Sterling? Selene and I met at the orphanage. When I was seventeen, Dad brought me home. When I re-encountered Selene, all I knew was that she had an unrequited love from college. Matthew Sterling feigned displeasure: “You guys shouldn’t spread rumors. Cathy has a boyfriend, what if he misunderstands?” The words had barely left his lips before the room erupted in laughter: “Cathy doesn’t have a boyfriend! We’ve all seen it clearly these past six months, her heart only beats for you!” “I also heard that Cathy specifically requested Matthew to be the male lead for this show!” I froze, my heart feeling like it was being squeezed tightly by something. When Dad gave the director my novel, he immediately decided to film it. As for Matthew, he clearly didn’t fit the male lead’s character profile at all. I had always assumed it was the director’s decision. It was Selene. I looked at her. She was gazing at Matthew with a doting expression, a silent confirmation. Matthew’s gaze swept around the room, then suddenly landed on me: “Oh, who’s standing at the door? I thought it was some beggar, you scared me.” Seeing me, Selene frowned slightly, hesitating for a few seconds before looking at Matthew next to her. “An old acquaintance. He probably passed by, saw me, and came over to say hello.” Matthew’s lips slowly curled into a meaningful smile. He intentionally raised his voice: “Oh, I remember him. I saw him that day.” “Cathy specifically went across half the city to buy me bubble tea, and he was standing in the shade of a tree diagonally opposite the tea shop, staring at us for a long time.” “His eyes were red like a rabbit’s, almost crying.” “What? You like Cathy?” A female assistant with her hair in a bun suddenly spoke up: “I remember now!” “That was the day Matthew misunderstood and had a little spat with Cathy. Cathy later explained that he was a boy whose father threw him into an orphanage when he was little, and he even tried to seduce his teacher in middle school.” Another production assistant looked at me, shaking his head in disgust: “I never would have thought he looked so innocent, but secretly he’s so promiscuous? Clearly someone without proper upbringing.” “No wonder he dared to show up here, trying to use the same old tricks to cling to Cathy again?” At those words, the surroundings fell silent for a few seconds, their gazes at me filled with unconcealed contempt. 2 I stood frozen, my thoughts drifting uncontrollably back to that year in eighth grade. My homeroom teacher, under the guise of tutoring, tricked me into coming to her house. It was Selene who sensed something was wrong, kicked open the door, and rescued me. But from then on, rumors spread rapidly, saying I had actively seduced the teacher, that I was indecent. I stared at Selene in disbelief. She had clearly seen me crying, trembling uncontrollably, curled up in a corner, unable to move. She abruptly averted her gaze, her eyes darting away, utterly unwilling to meet mine. Matthew Sterling quietly walked beside me, feigning to put a hand on my shoulder, his voice with a false tenderness: “Don’t blame Cathy. I misunderstood your relationship with her back then, and she only mentioned a few things to me. I didn’t expect others to overhear and spread it.” “Cathy is always like that; she can’t bear for me to be upset.” I subtly pulled my hand away, suppressing the emotions deep inside. “My eyes just weren’t feeling well that day; I looked a bit longer.” “Selene and I are just casual acquaintances. You don’t need to worry about it.” Hearing my words, Selene’s mouth moved, as if to protest. But Matthew quickly grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to their seats. The celebration banquet wasn’t over, but I quickly left. Hasty footsteps sounded behind me; it was Selene, chasing after me. Seeing my reddened eyes, a flicker of pain crossed her gaze. “I already told you, this is just for work right now. Otherwise, I would have announced us already.” “That day, if you hadn’t kept staring at me, and everyone misunderstood, why would I have said anything?” I gave a self-deprecating laugh. She must have forgotten long ago. Actually, I had messaged her that day too, saying I wanted that bubble tea shop’s tea, but she never replied. When I arrived, I saw her, smiling, handing a cup of bubble tea to Matthew. I messaged her again, and she quickly looked down and replied, “no time.” I no longer wanted to argue with her, and I continued walking out. Selene instinctively tried to catch up with me, but her phone rang in her pocket. She answered, her voice instantly softening: “Matthew, don’t be scared, I’m coming right away.” With that, she hesitated for a few seconds, looking in my direction, but ultimately turned and hurried away. The next morning, a news headline “Selene Blackwood’s Boyfriend Identity Exposed, It’s Not Matthew Sterling!” shot to the top of trending topics. The accompanying image was a photo from a few years ago, of me and a newly debuted Selene eating street barbecue. Immediately after, a second headline followed: “Matthew Sterling Allegedly Drowns His Sorrows Late at Night, Claims He Doesn’t Want to Disturb Anyone!” I tapped my phone screen, and over a hundred missed calls from Selene popped up. The moment I answered, her furious shouts blasted through the receiver: “Adrian Hollander! Are you insane? Do you really want me to announce us so badly? Do you have to make it public knowledge?!” “Now the company is threatening to cut all ties between me and Matthew. Are you satisfied now?” I gripped the phone, my heart sinking bit by bit, and simply hung up. I really didn’t want to explain to her anymore. When it came to Matthew, she never believed me. But the next second, Selene’s clarifying statement once again rocketed to the top of trending topics. “Mr. Adrian Hollander and I are merely casual acquaintances. In the past, seeing his unfortunate circumstances, I occasionally offered assistance. I never expected him to relentlessly pursue me recently.” “I am currently seriously pursuing Matthew Sterling, so all my actions are voluntary and have nothing to do with Adrian. I hope everyone will not involve him.” The comments section was instantly flooded with blessings for them and insults for me: “Waaah, Cathy’s favoritism is only for Matthew! Please, some people, stop being so delusional and trying to butt in!” “Adrian Hollander? I know him, he was already trouble in middle school, tried to seduce his homeroom teacher, and now he wants to climb the social ladder by clinging to Selene?” The insults that followed grew increasingly vile. Someone had leaked my phone number, and I received countless abusive texts. Just then, I heard a commotion of footsteps and voices outside the door: “Checked the records, Adrian Hollander is right here!” 3 The next second, with a loud BANG, the door was violently smashed open. A group of enraged fan-shippers rushed in like mad. I tried to explain, but they kicked me to the ground. “That’s what you get for interfering with Cathy and Matthew’s relationship! The unloved one is the homewrecker!” “Cathy loves Matthew so much, do you think she’d compromise? Dream on!” Fists and feet rained down on me like hail. I curled up on the ground, muttering, “The video wasn’t from me…” It wasn’t until the police arrived that I was dragged out of the crowd and taken to the hospital. As the doctor examined me, he whispered, “Isn’t this the guy who bought trending topics to force the movie star to marry him? She directly slapped him down with a statement, and now he’s beaten like this by fans, he deserves it!” “What a shame, just a few superficial wounds, no broken bones.” I endured the pain to complete the paperwork, my mask pulled tightly, walking on the street, afraid to look up. A stretched limousine suddenly stopped in front of me. Selene stepped out, her voice as cold as ice: “You need to apologize to Matthew!” I looked up, my voice carrying an undeniable weariness: “I told you, I didn’t do it!” She chuckled, as if certain I was lying, then pulled out her phone. A suggestive gasp instantly exploded into the air. Matthew Sterling’s voice came from behind her, with an exaggerated surprise: “Oh my! Who knew you played so rough? Do you like having several women at once?” My face instantly went ashen. She clearly said she had deleted it! A year ago, just as Selene was gaining some fame, my dad, getting wind of it from somewhere, suddenly broke into my home. He knocked me out, forced me to take an aphrodisiac, and threw me into a buyer’s room. When Selene found me, I was lying on the floor, naked. My dad threatened her with the video, and she spent a million dollars to suppress the incident. And now, Selene’s finger hovered over the “post” button, saying lightly: “Adrian Hollander, do you know your mistake now?” I trembled all over, only able to lower my head: “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have been jealous. I was wrong.” Matthew Sterling looked up at me, a sneer on his lips. “Such an insincere apology?” I looked at them, then slowly knelt. “I’m sorry—” The words had barely left my lips when Matthew suddenly snatched the phone, his finger pressing the “post” button: “Oops, my bad, I accidentally tapped it.” Selene instinctively glanced at me, a flicker of imperceptible pain in her eyes, but she merely said lightly: “Matthew didn’t mean it.” Seeing me silent, she frowned, her face darkening. “Anyway, everyone already knows about you seducing your teacher in middle school. One more thing isn’t a big deal.” Matthew immediately linked his arm through hers, pouting. “I don’t care. You have to make it up to me. Take me to Singapore, please.” Selene dotingly ruffled his hair. “Alright, let’s go now.” She put her arm around Matthew and turned, dropping a parting remark: “Move your things back from the hotel yourself. And be a good boy and stay home for now.” Hearing me being told to move back, Matthew’s face visibly stiffened, but quickly reverted to a smile. He bounced into the car. In a place Selene couldn’t see, he looked back at me, flashing a victor’s smile. The next day, on my way to the airport, I received a call from Mom: “I’ve already dealt with the video for you. Will you be coming home today?” I watched the rapidly receding scenery outside the window, my voice calm: “Already on my way.” A clear sigh of relief came from the other end. I hung up and unhesitatingly threw my phone into the trash. From this moment on, Selene and I were completely, irrevocably done.

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I found out Selene Blackwood was seeing another man. I was calmer than I expected. After finding his address, I drove straight to his place, intending to confront him. But when I actually stood in the man’s living room, I froze. “This house cost a million six hundred thirty thousand, Selene paid in full, and it’s in my name.” The man’s expression was calm, as if he’d expected me. He walked out of the bedroom, holding a marriage certificate, and placed it before me. “Last month, Selene and I got married.” “So,” the man looked at me, his eyes filled with disdain, “legally, you’re the illegitimate third party.” The marriage certificate stung my eyes. I remembered, Selene and I had been together for fifteen years. Fifteen years, and no marriage certificate. Instead, I got a “third party.” 1 “Peter Holland.” The man’s fair fingers rested on Selene’s section of the marriage certificate, his tone dismissive. “You have no right to be here, and no standing to put on airs in front of me, understand?” The marriage certificate in his hand was like a trophy. He stood there, like a refined, wealthy young lord. I recognized the watch on his wrist. Selene and I had bid for it together at an auction last month. Selene had said it was my fifteenth anniversary gift. But the day before our anniversary, Selene frantically told me the bracelet was missing. Her eyes were filled with guilt, so much so that they reddened as she told me, “Darling, I’ll get you something even better.” She stroked the calluses on my hand, tears of heartache falling. “These past years, you’ve suffered so much with me. When the company successfully goes public this time, we’ll get married, okay?” “Darling,” Selene hugged me, “I want to marry you, I want to have a home with you.” I believed her. I thought Selene and I were finally reaching that point. I felt that these years with Selene, building everything from nothing, had been worth it. That I had handed in a satisfactory report card for my life and that we would live out our days peacefully. Now. I looked at the sparkling diamonds on the watch, like countless tiny needles piercing my heart, making it ache so much I could barely stand. Yet I tried to maintain my composure. “So what?” I pulled the marriage certificate from his hand, looking at “Peter Holland” written in the groom’s name section. My eyes met his flawless face and his visibly surprised expression, and I smiled. “Are you trying to tell me that after fifteen years with Selene, it’s finally my turn to step aside so you can have a good life?” “Peter,” I traced the photo on Peter’s ID, smiling, “what makes you think I’d just hand over all the hard work I’ve put in all these years?” I watched Peter visibly panic, rushing to snatch back the marriage certificate. I dodged him, and he stumbled, hitting a cabinet, letting out a sharp cry. “Adrian Owen!” “Are you insane?!” Peter finally dropped his facade, shouting at me. “Are you actually going to ruin Selene and my relationship? Are you going to be an illegitimate mistress who can’t stand the light of day?!” “Adrian Owen!” “Have you no shame?!” Before Peter could charge at me to fight, I calmly pulled out my phone, photographed the marriage certificate, and quickly sent it to Selene, telling her: “Selene.” “I heard you got married.” “Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?” “Adrian Owen!” “Darling!” The call had already connected. In the living room, Selene’s voice echoed. “I can explain!” 2 “It’s all a misunderstanding!” “Darling!” A rustle came from Selene’s end, followed by the sound of a car door closing. “I’m coming over now to find you.” “Don’t panic.” “Let’s talk when I get there.” Selene was still talking. Peter, beyond exasperation, screamed into the phone. “Selene! Whose wife are you?! Whose side are you on?!” Peter’s desperate voice echoed in the living room. I looked around the house again. The decor was very cozy—light blue curtains, creamy white sofa, and an entire wall filled with blind boxes. Even the refrigerator had little fortune gods and couplets stuck on it. The pink cartoon slippers by the shoe rack were clearly a matching pair with the ones on Peter’s feet. Even on the pristine white walls, there were many photos of Peter, often with a few photos of Selene’s back mixed in. It was clear. The person who decorated this house had poured a lot of heart into it. A million six hundred fifty thousand. Paid in full. Peter’s name. Peter’s watch. Three million. It was supposed to be my wedding anniversary gift. And Peter’s silk pajamas, and his fair, clean hands, and the tea set on the coffee table, and the tea brand—none of it was cheap. Every item. Spoke of luxury. Every item. I looked down at my own hands, at the calluses on my palms from years of hard work, and at my clothes and shoes, worth less than a thousand dollars in total. Suddenly, I found it quite laughable, so laughable that I actually started to laugh out loud. “Selene.” I interrupted Selene’s voice. “Since you’re already married,” I glanced one last time at the marriage certificate in Peter’s arms, “then there’s nothing left to say between us.” I didn’t wait for Selene. I didn’t need to hear Selene’s explanations. I only knew. My fifteen years of effort had become a joke. Selene had made me the biggest clown in that joke. I sat in my friend’s law office, placing that marriage certificate on the table. After telling my friend everything I knew, I only asked him. “In this situation,” “How much of a chance do I have?” My tone remained calm, as if discussing everyday matters. “Selene and I started from nothing. Our company shares are equal, assets are split fifty-fifty, all transparent. But then there’s Peter.” I tapped the table, remembering the three-million-dollar bracelet and the one-point-six-million-dollar house. “I don’t want anyone to benefit unfairly.” “Walking over my blood and sweat, enjoying the fruits of my labor—there’s no such easy ride in this world, and it’s simply not right!” I told my friend. “I want them to pay the price!” “But,” my friend, though angry, still adopted a professional tone. “Your company is at a critical point for going public. A scandal right now…” “I don’t care.” “Then that’s enough!” My friend patted his chest, promising. “I will help you all the way.” 3 Emerging from the bank, I sat in the car, looking at dozens of pages of transaction records. The amounts Selene transferred to Peter ranged from tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands, each followed by a note: “Voluntary gift.” My chest felt tight, a suffocating sensation gripping my throat, making my eyes sting and burn. I remembered, I too envied others who dressed up. I also, like those young men, made appointments for beauty treatments and got my hair done. I’d come home and deliberately show off in front of Selene, hoping she would compliment me for caring about my appearance. The result. Selene merely met my expectant gaze with indifference. “Darling.” “I know our lives are getting a little better,” Selene grabbed my hand, shaking her head disapprovingly. “But the worst thing a person can do is forget their roots.” “We can’t be extravagant just because things are a bit better, right?” “What if things get tough again someday? How will you adapt?” “Darling,” Selene hugged me close, “I still like you simple.” All my expectations turned into smoke. Selene’s words, like a bucket of cold water, drenched me head to toe, leaving me stunned, even forgetting to react. I just watched as Selene unceremoniously smashed my only bottle of perfume, saying, “What’s the use of something so impractical?” Yes. Impractical things. What good are they? But Peter, dressed in impractical finery, looked like he belonged to another world, perfect, like a young lord from a wealthy family. The laughable thing was, every penny spent on Peter’s adornments came from my blood, sweat, and tears over the years. Why? Tears still fell uncontrollably. I wiped them away fiercely. Seeing Selene’s persistent calls, I finally answered. “Darling?” “You finally picked up!” “Thank goodness!” Selene’s anxious voice came through. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Where have you been? Can we talk about everything face-to-face, please?” “Adrian, we’ve been together for fifteen years!” “Not fifteen days! You can’t hide from me like this—” “Selene.” I suppressed the ache in my throat, my voice still calm. “Let’s meet.” I told Selene. “At that house in Northside, let’s meet.” The other end clearly froze. A few seconds of silence. “Alright.” “Darling, I’ll head over now,” Selene’s voice was surprised, yet relieved. “I’ll pick up the soup dumplings from your favorite place and bring them!” Before I could refuse, Selene had already hung up. I turned to meet my friend’s worried gaze. “I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “Don’t worry.” It had been almost five years since Selene and I moved out of that house. I looked at the now weathered, old door and remembered how, when we first moved here from the basement, Selene and I had lovingly decorated this house together. Selene had said then, “Darling, this is our first home. It means something different!” “Later, when we’re old, if you’re willing, we’ll come back here to retire!” “Every year, we’ll come back to stay for a few days, okay?” At the time, my heart was full of joy, feeling my life was truly worthwhile. Now, just a few years later. Everything had changed. 4 I pushed open the door. Selene was already up from the sofa. “Darling!” Selene, like a child seeking praise, picked up the prepared soup dumplings and handed them to me. “They’re still warm.” Before, I always said I loved soup dumplings, loved how Selene would queue up for them before dawn every day. Later, when I mentioned soup dumplings again, Selene only offered dismissive excuses. “Adrian.” “Time is money. How can I have so much leisure time to queue for so long just to buy you dumplings?” Now, the soup dumplings reappeared before me, but somehow, they no longer looked so appetizing. “Selene.” I ignored Selene’s eagerness, walked past her, and sat on the sofa. The old sofa groaned, incomparable to Peter’s. “Do you remember this sofa?” I looked at Selene. “You and I went to the secondhand market and spent two days looking for it.” “Because we couldn’t afford to hire someone to deliver it,” I said, as if recounting a trivial matter, “I borrowed a handcart. You held the armrest, and we brought it home together in forty-degree summer heat, taking two and a half hours.” “Back then, you said this sofa, no matter how much money we had, could never be replaced.” “It was proof of our love.” Selene’s eyes flickered, unwilling to meet mine. I simply picked up the remote control from the coffee table. The remote was wrapped in tape; Selene had accidentally dropped it when she was drunk. I couldn’t bear to replace it, so I bought tape and wrapped it. I traced the tape on the remote. “But the truth is, things have changed, haven’t they?” “No, they haven’t!” Selene rushed to me, explaining. “It’s not like that!” Selene’s eyes reddened, just like every time before; whenever she was anxious, her eyes would well up. “Peter and I were an accident!” “I don’t love him!” “I swear!” Selene half-knelt before me, reaching to take my hand, but I turned away, watching her eyes flash with hurt, then she spoke. “I was drunk at the dinner party. I don’t even know how Peter ended up at the hotel. When I woke up, I was actually scared! I didn’t lie to you!” Selene’s tears fell. “I was afraid you’d find out and break up with me, that you’d be angry. I didn’t know how to face you!” “I just—” “How long?” “What?” “How long,” my voice remained flat, “have you been with Peter?” Selene suddenly fell silent. She met my eyes, watching me for a long time before speaking with difficulty. “Three and a half years.” I remembered Selene saying she wanted to come back and stay for a few days every year. But later, Selene always said she didn’t have time. Turns out, it wasn’t that she didn’t have time. It was just that all her time was spent elsewhere, given to someone else. My heart ached, and then I heard Selene explain further. “I wanted to break up, but Peter clung to me. He kept saying his family wasn’t well off, that his parents loved his brother more. I just felt sorry for him…” Selene’s voice trailed off. In the end, even she lacked the conviction to utter those final words. “Also.” “I’m pregnant.” It was like a dull clap of thunder exploding in my ears. I clenched my fists tightly. Even though I had learned the full truth before coming, hearing it firsthand still made me feel chilled to the bone. While I was eagerly anticipating my wedding with Selene, Selene had already given someone else an identity, making me the outsider. Now, I listened to Selene say, “I thought you were getting older, and IVF would be hard on your body…” Getting older. Hard on my body. How ridiculous. “So,” Selene looked at me, “I want to have this child. It’s for your own good too.” For my own good. My fingernails dug into my flesh, but I felt no pain. I listened as Selene continued. “Just forgive me! I’ll agree to anything!” “Really?” I suppressed my surging anger, meeting Selene’s gaze. “Really!” I suddenly smiled, rising from the sofa and walking to the door. I opened it, meeting the person outside with an even wider smile. “So, do you understand now?” “Who’s the other woman?” I looked at Peter, then pulled out my phone again, facing my friend who was still on video call. “This video, no editing. Have the media release it verbatim!” “No matter how much money it costs, I want maximum impact!” Then. I was suddenly pulled hard by the wrist, yanked backward, and met Selene’s furious gaze, smiling. “Selene.” “When you do wrong.” “You can’t get away unscathed.” “Are you satisfied with this answer?”

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When I was five, Dad brought Arya back from Grandma and Grandpa’s farm and told me, “Mindy, you have to protect Arya. She’s the only real princess in our family!” Looking at her, skinny and with dark, shadowed eyes, I barely understood. Dad took the cloth doll from my hand and put it into hers. “Arya’s had a tough life. This doll is for her. Dad will buy you another one.” I agreed, giving the doll to Arya. But I didn’t know that for the next twenty years, I’d have to keep giving way, again and again. 1 The doll was in Arya’s hands, and Dad forgot to buy me a new one. In the end, Mom bought me one. But as soon as I got it, Arya saw it. She snatched it away, screaming, “That’s mine!” “No, Mom bought this for me!” I just reached out my hand when she pinched my arm hard. I instantly shrieked in pain. Grandma rushed over to separate us. Seeing my arm already bruised purple, she angrily swatted Arya’s bottom a couple of times. Dad saw it and immediately pulled Arya into his arms, his face grim. “Mom, how could you treat Arya like that? She wasn’t favored at her grandma’s, and now she’s getting hit here? If you can’t treat them equally, then don’t come around anymore!” Grandma trembled with rage. “Didn’t you see Mindy’s arm? Arya pinched it purple!” Dad just glanced at it. “So what? Kids fighting is normal. Mom, if you can’t be fair, then go back to your country estate!” Grandma was so furious she left that very day. Arya, still in Dad’s arms, shot me a smug smile. I didn’t understand. I had already given her my toy. Why did she still want to snatch mine? Dad ruffled my hair. “Mindy, Arya grew up in the countryside and had a hard time. We need to make it up to her.” I didn’t get it. Why did she having a hard time mean I had to make it up to her? That evening, Mom came home from work and saw the large bruise on my fair arm. She had a huge fight with Dad. The next morning, Mom specially made me an egg custard, while Arya got a hard-boiled egg. I couldn’t eat egg yolks, so Mom used this method to give me nutrients. But Arya saw it and threw a tantrum. “I want egg custard too! I want it!” Dad’s face darkened. “Diana, what’s wrong with making one more egg custard!” He directly reached out and placed my egg custard in front of Arya. But he didn’t give me the hard-boiled egg. I watched Arya mash the egg custard into a pulpy mess with her spoon, but she didn’t eat it in the end. The cold egg custard had a fishy smell, and I couldn’t swallow it at all. Mom was angry. She hugged me and took me to daycare. Thankfully, Arya was three years older than me. She was starting elementary school and wouldn’t be in my class. But good times didn’t last. I turned six and it was time to register for school. Mom bought me a new backpack with a “Sailor Moon” design. I was thrilled and put it by my bed. But the next morning, I woke up to find my backpack replaced with Arya’s old one, covered in watercolor scribbles. I immediately burst into tears. Mom wasn’t home from her night shift yet, and Dad impatiently snapped, “Mindy! What are you crying about! Your sister never had such a nice backpack when she was little. She’s the little princess of the house, let her use it first!” My face was streaked with tears, but I wouldn’t agree. Dad twisted my ear and made me stand in the corner. I wailed so loud the whole apartment building could hear me. Arya stuck her tongue out at me. “Mindy, I’m the princess, you’re the ugly servant girl. Where I come from, younger siblings get hand-me-downs from older ones!” She went to school with my new backpack, and that day I dragged the old one, crying and sweating, and didn’t even go to registration. Mom found out when she came home from work. She immediately rushed out to buy me another one, then came back and started yelling at Dad. “Mark Smith, you’re hopelessly biased! Mindy is your daughter too, how could you be so heartless as to let her cry until her voice gave out!” “She’s so young and already comparing herself! What’s wrong with an old backpack!” Dad forgot that Arya had a brand new backpack when she started first grade. 2 That day, Mom held me close and slept with me in the small bed, leaving Arya with Dad. She ignored Arya’s tearful pleas. Nestled in Mom’s arms, I felt incredibly warm. Mom coaxed me to sleep. For three days after that, she gave Dad the cold shoulder. Dad simply requested overtime, and they were in a silent war for days. Eventually, Mom softened, cooking a delicious meal, and Dad came home on time. I also breathed a sigh of relief, because Mom had been secretly crying every day, and I didn’t want her to be sad. After this, Arya became even more aggressive. When I was in third grade, Arya graduated from elementary school. On graduation day, Dad bought Arya a princess dress, layers of pink tulle, making her look just like a little princess. She looked at me triumphantly. “Mindy, do you like it?” I nodded repeatedly. “I do!” “Then you can have it when I outgrow it!” I tugged at the hem of my shirt. Actually, I didn’t want her hand-me-downs. Arya’s clothes were always baggy and worn, as if on purpose. Every time she got rid of clothes, they either had holes or stains. Mom chose to work out of town for extra pay and benefits. I also didn’t want to see her hard-earned money go to waste. Because whenever she bought me new clothes, Arya would throw a huge fit, even though Mom always bought two of everything. Mom stroked my head. “When our Mindy graduates, Mom will buy you a dress too.” I smiled through my tears, not seeing the fleeting resentment in Arya’s eyes. But I was happy, because Arya was going to junior high. She told Dad she wanted to go to the best junior high in our city. Dad listened to her and went to inquire at the prestigious Central City Academy. It turned out there was an expensive tuition fee. That money sparked a long argument between Mom and Dad. It was money Mom had been saving to buy a house. “Mark Smith, the children are getting older. They both need their own rooms. Look at Mindy, she’s practically squeezed onto the balcony. How can you be so heartless!” Dad, however, said, “Arya needs to go to junior high. She’s our little princess. You know how good the resources are at Central City Academy.” Mom argued fiercely, “Arya’s academic foundation isn’t good. She won’t be able to keep up at all.” But she still couldn’t convince Dad. He took the money, pushed Mom aside, and left without looking back. Mom knelt on the floor, weeping inconsolably. “Mark Smith! Mark Smith, come back!” His answer was the sound of the door slamming. My mom, her eyes red, held me close. Arya stood by, saying, “Mom, am I your real daughter? Why won’t you let me go to Central City Academy?” My mom looked at her, saying nothing, her face ashen. She applied for an overseas assignment to earn more money. That same day, Dad came home and told Arya she had been accepted. “Dad spent a lot of money to get you in, Arya. You must study hard.” Arya was overjoyed, and her gaze at me held an added hint of triumph. The next day, Dad went out to borrow money to buy Arya a whole new wardrobe. I pinched the tattered cuffs of my pants, which were fraying into threads, and walked up to Dad. “Dad, I want a new pair of pants too. Mine are all torn.” Dad pushed me hard! “All you know is spending money! If they’re torn, just patch them up. Little girl, you’re so picky about what you eat and wear, it’s clear your mind isn’t on your studies.” I cried. Arya, munching on an apple, watched me. “Dad, she’s crying so loud the whole building can hear. People will talk about you again!” At that, Dad raised his hand and slapped me, shouting, “If you make another sound, I’ll kill you!” Half my face went numb, my ears buzzed, and I watched Dad’s mouth open and close, hearing nothing. I was scared, but I didn’t dare cry out loud, tears streaming down my face. 3 During the summer break, Mom came back to see me. She saw me squatting downstairs, watching ants, and called my name from a distance, but I didn’t turn around. Mom thought I was too engrossed, until she stood behind me and called me, her voice growing louder with each call, before I slowly turned. Seeing her, I instantly threw myself into her arms. “Mom!” Mom looked down at me, hardly believing her eyes. “Mindy, why are you dressed like this?” The clothes I was wearing were Arya’s, and she had drawn on them so much that the original color couldn’t be washed out. My exposed arms and legs were covered in mosquito bites, and I had sensitive skin, so every bite left a scar. My hair was a messy, haphazard bun. At first glance, I looked like a little street urchin. If it weren’t for the fact that I was the only child of my age in our apartment building, Mom would barely have recognized me. She took me home, washed me clean, put me in a new dress, styled my hair into pretty braids, and even gave me hair clips and flowers. I was so excited, I immediately ran out to find my friends. From afar, I saw Arya playing jump rope with a group of kids, and I ran over too. “Mindy looks so pretty today!” As I got closer, I heard their words. I nodded and said loudly, “My mom’s back, and she bought this for me!” I looked like Mom, with fair skin and an oval face. Arya resembled Dad, with a rounder face and darker skin; she didn’t look as good in a dress as I did. Hearing this, she rushed over, grabbed my braid, yanked off my hair flower, and then tightly clutched my dress. I was no match for her. I couldn’t help but cry. The neighbors who saw it didn’t dare come over to intervene. Because they had tried before, and Dad had stormed into their homes and smashed things up. Now, no one dared to meddle in our family affairs. In the end, I was no match for Arya. She cut my hair into ragged pieces with scissors and tore my dress. She smiled triumphantly at me, “Mindy, I told you, you’re only fit to wear my old clothes!” Back home, Mom was stunned. Her eyes immediately landed on the scissors in Arya’s hand. After finding out what happened, Mom picked up a broom and went to hit her. Just then, Dad came home and snatched the broom away. “Diana, what are you doing!” “Mark Smith, when I’m not home, this is how you teach our children? Look what she did to Mindy!” Dad, however, protected Arya. “Kids fight, what’s the big deal! Besides, why was Mindy showing off? Isn’t she just vain!” “I wasn’t, Mom, it hurts, and I can’t hear anything in my ear anymore!” I cried inconsolably in Mom’s arms. Mom was terrified and took me to the hospital. Dad, though, said, “She’s just faking it!” Mom didn’t listen to him. She insisted on taking me to the hospital. After an examination, they discovered I was deaf in my right ear. “It’s a shame. You came too late. How can you parents be so irresponsible!” “The child’s ear injury was caused by external force!” The doctor’s words made Mom cry bitterly. I wiped the tears from her face and told her that Dad had hit me. “Mom, I don’t want to live with them anymore. I want to go with you, even if we have no bed to sleep on!” My crying broke Mom’s heart. She took me home and saw Dad and Arya eating. She walked directly into the room, only to find that there was no longer a place for me in the room. I was sleeping on a wooden board set up in the living room. Mom trembled with rage. She walked over, flipped the table over, and slapped Dad hard! “Mark Smith, we’re getting a divorce!”

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During the worst year for our crew’s earnings, Rex, our boss, pointed at a Rolls-Royce with a license plate full of ones. “See that? Hit it.” That crash landed me a stern “father figure.” But the “father figure” in the older, dominant sense. Samuel Kingston was incredibly strict with me, demanding that I never make the same mistake three times, or face punishment. I prided myself on being charming and clever, yet Rex’s betrayal landed me in the police station, forcing me to call Samuel to bail me out. Samuel arrived, looking travel-worn. I was anxious, not daring to meet his gaze. Suddenly, a familiar voice sounded above me: “Lift your head. I’m here to back you up, not to be your judge.” 1 That winter, during the worst year for our crew’s earnings, Rex, our boss, pointed at a Rolls-Royce with a license plate full of ones. “See that? Hit it.” Without a second thought, I hopped on a shared bicycle and sped towards it. Faking an accident? That was my specialty, a piece of cake. I was just about to slip my hand into the driver’s pocket, thinking how to warm it up. The next second. My hands were clamped, and I was thrown in front of the luxury car’s owner. I was about to protest my innocence, but then I saw Samuel Kingston’s face. My knees buckled, and I found myself on the ground before him. He didn’t acknowledge me, simply instructed his men: “Tie them up and throw them in the car.” But ever since I was bound hand and foot and tossed into the car, Samuel hadn’t spared me a single glance. I deliberately wriggled a few times, trying to make some noise, hoping to catch his attention. Yet, he was entirely focused on bandaging a wound. Had he just finished dealing with someone? A chilling thought. I cautiously shuffled towards the corner, muttering a continuous prayer: “Please, if you’ve dealt with them, don’t deal with me, okay?” Just my luck. My mumbling caught Samuel’s attention. He lifted his eyelids, scanning me from head to toe like a prosecutor examining a suspect. His gaze finally settled on my face. “You again?” 2. I awkwardly lowered my head, offering my practiced apology: “My apologies, Mr. Kingston, I swear my eyes must have been blind not to recognize your car. I truly didn’t mean to!” “It’s just… my eighty-year-old grandmother is sick, and I need money for her medical treatment. It’s just her and me at home.” Samuel scoffed. “You said the same thing last time you tried to swipe my watch.” My head sank even lower, and I nervously licked my lips. The wrist bone Samuel had twisted when I was seventeen still throbbed faintly. That was the first time Rex had taken me to a high-end party. He made me change into a waiter’s uniform, pointed at Samuel, who was surrounded by admirers, and said: “See that? Bump into him.” I nodded resolutely, tray in hand, distributing drinks to the group of rich kids. Seizing the moment, as I offered the last drink to Samuel, I deliberately spilled it on him, then feigned remorse, pretending to help him tidy his clothes. In one smooth motion, I pilfered a Patek Philippe watch from his pocket. Mission accomplished, I hid in the restroom to text Rex about it. I tried to curl my lips into a smile, but my wildly thumping heart betrayed my unease. I splashed a handful of cold water on my face, trying to calm myself. Looking up, Samuel’s face was reflected in the water-streaked mirror. My heart skipped a beat. I stared at his indifferent expression, then pretended to be a passerby, turning to brush past him. “Holy cow.” 3. Samuel grabbed my wrist, tightening his grip. I yelped a curse. He twisted my wrists behind my back, his other hand pressing hard against the side of my neck, his knee digging into my lower back, forcing my face to the floor. “The item.” I squeezed out a heavy breath from my throat, protesting, “Sir, I don’t know what you mean.” Samuel chuckled softly, then pulled the belt from my waistband, using it to tie my hands. Once done, he reached into my pockets. “Sir, you can’t accuse me of being a thief without proof and search me like this!” Samuel searched all my pockets but found nothing. He impatiently pinched my chin, asking, “Do you know who I am? Can you handle the consequences of taking my property?” I didn’t know who he was, only that he was Rex’s designated target. I shook my head blankly. Samuel frowned, then pressed hard on my wrist bone, making me clench my teeth in pain. He seemed intent on this standoff, neither letting me go nor calling the police. “I… I know where it is.” I couldn’t endure his torment any longer, so I surrendered, gritting my teeth as I returned the hidden watch to him. “I’m… I’m sorry, sir, I swear I didn’t mean to!” “It’s just that my eighty-year-old grandmother is sick, and I need money for her medical treatment. It’s just her and me at home.” Samuel grunted softly. “Continue.” Continue? I couldn’t quite gauge Samuel’s attitude. Seeing his serious expression, I decided to play the obedient one. “I know what I did was wrong. I promise I’ll change.” Samuel didn’t press the matter further, only offered a few words of advice before leaving. But he didn’t realize that someone like me had no school to attend. 4. Running into Samuel again was the last thing I expected. I looked up, explaining to him: “My grandmother is in the ICU right now and desperately needs money. I truly had no other choice but to resort to this.” Samuel’s sharp gaze softened somewhat. He reached out and gently patted my head. His wound was bandaged with a silk scarf. As he patted my head, the soft fabric of the scarf brushed against my eyelids. I thought he had listened to my words, that he had softened, and would let me go. The next second, he gripped the back of my neck like he was holding a kitten. “Did you think I haven’t investigated you, Ember?” “You’re an orphan, without parents, surrounded only by a bunch of people with bad habits, just like you.” I shook my head, denying, “No, I have family.” He let out a cold laugh, seeing through my pretense. “A habitual liar like you, a stray cat, should be caged and properly disciplined.” My eyes widened at his words. What was this man trying to do?! I had already admitted my mistake, couldn’t he just let me go? I struggled futilely. But Samuel unexpectedly pulled out his phone and took a picture of my struggle. “Why do you have a plum blossom mark on the back of your neck? Could you really be a reborn kitten?” I froze instantly. He raised an eyebrow as if enlightened. “Well, then you’re a stray cat.” 5. It wasn’t until I stepped into the Kingston estate that I realized Samuel was serious this time. The butler, seeing me follow Samuel, immediately came forward. I expected him to say something like, “You’re the first person the young master has brought back.” But his lips parted twice, and as he took in my attire, his composed expression visibly stiffened. However, as he led me upstairs to a room, his expression returned to normal, as if he hadn’t seen me bound. I pursed my lips, rubbing my wrists where the ropes had chafed them red, and my thoughts drifted to the meaningful look Samuel had given me when he said he was keeping the ropes. Meaningful. He’d said the ropes would be useful later. I couldn’t help but shiver. “Young master, the master doesn’t like to be disturbed. Only the two of you live on the second floor.” The butler pointed to a closed door at the end of the corridor, telling me it was Samuel’s room. What did I care? At that moment, I had only one thought: to go home and face Rex’s punishment for failing the mission. My gaze swept past, noticing a slightly ajar door downstairs. The butler said it was his room, and all the Kingston staff lived on the first floor. I nodded thoughtfully, planning when would be the best time to escape. 6. That evening. The usually silent Kingston estate suddenly erupted in a commotion. It seemed that Old Man Miller, the butler, had lost all his gold bracelets, necklaces, and jade bangles—his retirement savings. I subtly frowned, watching them frantically search for the items. As I passed Old Man Miller, he was anxiously wringing his hands and sighing. Seeing me, he forced a smile… “Oh, I’m so sorry, young master, I’ve lost a few things. Did all this searching disturb your sleep?” He gave me an apologetic smile. I reached out and patted his shoulder. My other hand, tucked in my pocket, felt the cold touch of something metallic. “I’ll help you look too. Don’t worry, we’ll definitely find them.” With my hands still in my pockets, I pretended to help Old Man Miller search. The moment my foot crossed the threshold of the main door. Samuel’s voice, devoid of warning, rang out behind me: “Where are you going?” He stood on the staircase, his white shirt sleeves neatly rolled up, revealing his toned forearms—clearly someone who worked out regularly. “I’m helping Old Man Miller look for his things,” I said, turning back, a ingratiating smile playing on my lips. Samuel smiled faintly and tapped his finger lightly on the banister twice. The next second. A group of well-trained men in black suits swarmed in behind me. “Dad, brother!” “You all help Old Man Miller find his things.” Samuel pointed at me. “You, come with me to the study.” My feet wouldn’t move. But the presence of the men in black behind me completely blocked any chance of escape. I could only reluctantly follow Samuel to the study. As soon as he sat down, he demanded I hand over the items. I began to play dumb again, feigning confusion. “Mr. Kingston, I don’t know what items you’re referring to…” 7. I even dramatically patted my pockets, innocently spreading my empty hands towards him. Just as I was feeling smug, a ruler slapped against my palm. I looked up in shock, but was immediately intimidated by Samuel’s imposing presence. “You don’t seriously think I took Old Man Miller’s things, do you? I wouldn’t…” Before I could finish, the ruler ruthlessly struck my palm again. I instantly flared up. I felt like I needed to toughen up, to stand my ground against Samuel. “What, are you going to beat a confession out of me?” I angrily tucked my stinging hand behind my back. I retreated, glancing at the study door out of the corner of my eye, mentally planning to open it, rush downstairs, and bolt out of the Kingston estate. But Samuel gave me no such opportunity. He was a man of brute force, pinning me against the desk and reaching into my pocket to pull out a gold necklace. “You said you didn’t take anything. Then what is this?” I knew then that I couldn’t pull anything off under Samuel’s nose. But I was stubborn; I would never admit it. “I don’t know how that gold necklace flew into my pocket. Maybe it just felt more comfortable with me?” “Hmph,” Samuel sneered, calling his assistant to return the items from my pocket to their rightful owner. “This is the second time. Three strikes and you’re out.” “You don’t control me. So what if I lie, or fake accidents, or take other people’s things? I’m just a bad person.” Ever since I was abducted by traffickers at four, passed from one foster parent to another, and then picked up by Rex and brought to Elm Alley, I had already turned bad. “Next time I catch you, it’s straight to legal consequences.” 8. I genuinely thought my ears were malfunctioning. Samuel released my hand, helped me straighten my disheveled clothes, and then turned to leave. I numbly followed him. “If you really want to punish me, you can call the police.” With a bang, the study door closed, the distinct click of the lock echoing in my ears. “Reflect on your mistakes. When you truly mend your ways, then you can leave.” I instinctively slid to my knees, pleading, “I’ll change, I’ll change, I promise to change everything.” But Samuel wouldn’t listen. He saw me as a habitual offender, a liar, believing that pleading and apologizing were just words. I sat on the chair, fuming, and slammed my hand on the desk. “Fine, you can lock me in the study. I’ll steal all your confidential documents, I’ll make you go bankrupt, I’ll make you beg me to sleep with you.” But Samuel was too smart; his study was filled only with educational books, all about learning and character building, which gave me a headache. After three days, Old Man Miller opened the door and let me out. I sat weakly by the table, watching him busily set out my meal. A strange bitterness welled up in my nose. He smiled as he placed a bowl of hot porridge in front of me. When he bent down, I saw a few new strands of white hair at his temples. I didn’t know what Samuel had told Old Man Miller. I lowered my head, feeling guilty, and silently ate my porridge. Suddenly, my eyes swelled, and a few tears fell, mixing with the porridge. Old Man Miller gave a surprised “Oh?” “Is the porridge not good? I’ll have someone make a fresh bowl right away.” “It’s good, thank you.” Alright, I’ll change. I’ll try my best to be better. “I’m sorry.” The sudden apology caught Old Man Miller off guard. He patted my head and sighed softly, “Good kid.” Behind me, a click sounded. I turned. Samuel was leaning against the wall, holding his phone, taking a picture of me. I quickly lowered my head, thinking Samuel was probably going to extensively document my ugly photos to hold over me later. At that thought, I timidly rolled my eyes at the bowl. 9. Two weeks later, I finally got in touch with Rex. He arranged to meet me at our usual spot. I gave Samuel a vague update on my plans, describing Rex as a childhood friend who shared my struggles. I told him I needed to ‘save’ him. Samuel approved, but insisted I be back by 11 PM, or he’d come looking for me. Knowing his capabilities, I wasn’t about to challenge him, so I playfully texted back: “Mhm (fist emoji) (pity emoji).” Samuel replied with a kitten-petting emoji. For some reason, I felt incredibly identified with it. A short while after putting my phone down, Rex arrived. He was unusually dressed in a black suit today, looking quite respectable, almost making me not recognize him. Rex pulled me into a meal and drinks, pouring out his heart, asking if I wanted to escape Samuel’s control and return to Elm Alley. “That look on your face—you’re not thinking of not coming home, are you? You have to remember, you and I, we’re the same kind of people.” “Rex,” I said, speaking from the heart, “I want to follow Samuel and walk the straight path now. I’ve been reading, taking classes, learning new things lately.” Rex chuckled, patting my shoulder. “Alright, you’re doing so well with Samuel now. Then let’s have you take your old boss home one last time, and after this, we won’t see each other again.” I felt a pang of reluctance as I helped Rex back to Elm Alley. His mood wasn’t as high as it had been during dinner; he swayed even with my support. Suddenly, a blinding light shone from behind us. Cracking footsteps approached, and I vaguely heard shouts of “Thief!” and “Don’t move!” Rex gave me a deep look. I tried to reassure him, “It’s not our business. I’ll just take you home.” The words had barely left my lips when he shoved me to the ground, punching me directly in the face. My eyes widened in confused shock, my eyelids trembling uncontrollably. Rex tightened his fist, then, seeing the approaching people, he stopped mid-action, turning to the police and the victim. “This person was walking suspiciously, and when you called out, they bolted. Look, is this what you lost?” Rex held up a diamond ring. The victim’s face lit up with relief and ran over, clutching the ring. But the look she gave me was filled with resentment and hatred. “I didn’t take it.” I had promised Samuel I would be better. “If you didn’t take it, did this gentleman here? He’s wearing a thousand-dollar suit, and your whole outfit probably costs less than a hundred. Who’s going to believe you?” “It really wasn’t me…” “You don’t look that old. What, not learning anything good at such a young age? Don’t your parents care about you at all? Born with parents, but not raised by them?” 10. I silently lowered my eyes, standing beside the police officer’s desk where I was being interrogated. Rex glanced at me, his expression cold and distant, as if we truly were strangers. While he gave his statement, the victim, grateful to him, cursed at me non-stop. “Officer, you really should lock him up for a few days, give him a good education, so he doesn’t cause trouble again when he gets out.” The officer looked at me, asking me to contact a family member. “Parent’s name, phone number.” I clenched my fists, hesitantly picking at my palms. “Samuel Kingston, the number is…” I kept my head down, completely unaware that as I uttered Samuel’s name, everyone’s expressions changed dramatically. Rex swiftly put down his pen. “Officer, I’m finished. If you don’t need anything else, I’ll be leaving. My wife and children are waiting for me at home.” The victim’s mouth dropped open in astonishment, her face full of disbelief. “How is that possible… I never heard that Samuel Kingston had such a grown-up… illegitimate child?!” The scrutinizing gazes swept over me repeatedly. The victim clutched her chest. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence, same name.” Not long after, I saw Rex return, thinking he’d had a change of heart. Instead, I heard Samuel’s familiar voice. “To condemn someone without even fully investigating the truth, isn’t that against protocol?” Samuel suddenly smiled politely and gently. The surrounding air pressure abruptly dropped and grew cold. I nervously clasped my hands behind my back, not daring to meet Samuel’s eyes, afraid to see the indifference and disappointment in his gaze. And the “I knew it” expression he’d surely wear. Samuel walked to my side, his hand lightly touching the top of my head. “Raise your head. I’m here to back you up, not to be your judge.”

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When my wealthy parents finally found me, the backstabbing family drama I’d braced myself for never happened. Instead, both the real and the fake heiress were married off in strategic alliances. But after the wedding, despite being in perfect health, I couldn’t get pregnant. Meanwhile, Ivy, the one diagnosed with a condition that made conception nearly impossible, quickly gave birth to a daughter with her husband, a man known to have his own fertility issues. Outside the delivery room, my private doctor mistook me for Ivy and tried to comfort me. “Everyone has their own fate,” he said gently. “Your sister has a strong constitution, but that doesn’t mean there’s no hope for you.” I forced a smile and corrected him. The doctor’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Then how is it you’re still not…?” His unfinished question was a dagger to my heart. I became convinced I wasn’t trying hard enough. I went home and threw myself into a punishing regimen of diet and exercise. I even took Ivy’s recommendation and started IVF treatments. I had just gotten off the operating table, the pain so intense I could barely stand, when I received a text. Ivy, whose first pregnancy had been called a medical miracle, was pregnant with her second child. 1. I stared at my phone, frozen. Envy and indignation washed over me like a tidal wave. For some reason, my mind flashed back to the day I was brought home. I stood in the lavish villa in my grey, threadbare clothes, a ghost at the feast. Ivy, dressed in an exquisite designer dress, showed no hostility. Instead, she took my hand. “Sister,” she said warmly, “we’re a family now.” My parents, their faces etched with guilt, sat me down. “Noelle, we are so sorry. We promise we will make it up to you.” “We’ve arranged marriages for both you and Ivy. Take a look and see which family you’d prefer.” Compared to a lifetime of working-class struggle, what was a corporate marriage? I agreed without a second thought. A few days later, our medical results came back. The doctor’s expression was grim. “Ms. Noelle Prescott is in excellent physical health, very active. However, Ms. Ivy Prescott, you have a condition that will make getting pregnant extremely difficult.” That night, Ivy came to me alone. “Sister, the Crestmont family is incredibly powerful, but their heir, Donovan, has low sperm motility. You’d be miserable if you married him,” she said, her voice full of concern. “But since I have my own fertility issues, if I marry him and can’t conceive, no one can blame anyone.” I was deeply moved. It seemed so unfair to her. She just smiled softly. “I’ve lived your life in the Prescott family for twenty years. I’ve enjoyed everything that should have been yours. This is the least I can do.” My parents urged me to agree. “Noelle, listen to Ivy. The Crestmonts are a complicated family. You should marry into the Ashworth family. Our families are social equals; we know them well.” At that moment, I felt like my life of hardship was finally over. I had a family and a good marriage waiting for me. I had no idea it was the beginning of a nightmare. Nathaniel Ashworth was truly good to me. He was a steady, kind man who deferred to all my wishes. But after a year of marriage, my womb remained empty. In these circles, producing an heir is everything. The already tense atmosphere in our home exploded the day we heard Ivy was pregnant. My mother-in-law, who had once been so warm, grew colder by the day. “We married a hen that can’t even lay an egg,” she would mutter. “I should have had my son marry Ivy. At least she could have given me a grandchild…” I was furious and hurt. Nate always stood up for me. “Mom, Noelle is doing everything she can. It’s not her fault we haven’t conceived yet. These things take time.” His mother shot me a venomous glare. “How can I not be anxious? Look at the Crestmonts! They used to look down on Ivy, and now that she’s pregnant, they treat her like a queen. Everyone says she’s blessed with good fortune. And then there’s our family…” I gave up every food I loved. I worked out, regulated my sleep, living with a discipline that felt archaic in the 21st century. I was so paranoid I stopped using my favorite skincare products, terrified some chemical would affect my chances. Nate and I went to the doctor countless times. The reports always came back the same: we were both perfectly healthy. No one could explain why I couldn’t get pregnant. My thoughts snapped back to the present. I tucked my medical file into my bag, ready to go home, when a voice stopped me. “Sister! Are you here to see me?” 2. I looked up. Ivy was standing there in a loose maternity dress, one hand cradling her belly, the other held tightly by her husband, Donovan Crestmont. This was the same Donovan who used to be so cold and arrogant toward her. Now, his eyes were full of adoration. “Slow down,” he murmured. “Don’t rush. What if you trip?” Ivy smiled and patted his hand. “It’s fine. I’m not that fragile.” She turned to me, her eyes filled with manufactured concern. “Sister, what are you doing at the hospital? Another check-up?” I hid the IVF report behind my back, my voice flat. “Yes. Just finished.” Just then, my parents emerged from a nearby consultation room. The smiles on their faces froze for a second when they saw me, then they immediately turned their fawning attention to Ivy. “Ivy, you’re carrying your second child now. You have to be careful with everything.” Donovan immediately chimed in, his tone respectful. “Don’t worry, Mom, Dad. I’ll take good care of her. She’s the hero of our family.” Ever since Ivy had given Donovan, the man with fertility problems, a daughter, her status in the Crestmont family had soared. Donovan’s mother was constantly bragging to her friends that Ivy had a “golden womb” and was sure to give them a boy this time. Our own family had secured several major business deals thanks to her marriage. My parents, who once felt a sliver of guilt toward me, now orbited Ivy like she was the sun. My mother held Ivy’s hand, beaming with pride. “Our Ivy is so blessed. She’s the pride of the Prescott family.” Then, she turned to me, her voice cooling several degrees. “Noelle, how were your results? Still nothing?” A knot formed in my stomach. I clutched my file tighter. “No.” My mother’s brow furrowed in disgust. “You’re so healthy, how can you not get pregnant? Are you even trying?” My father sighed. “Noelle, don’t be so stubborn. You need to take this seriously. The Ashworths are waiting for a grandchild.” Ivy quickly stepped in to smooth things over, taking my arm. “By the way, sister, did you try that special herbal remedy I gave you? It’s supposed to be very helpful for conception.” The mention of that remedy made my blood boil. “I tried it,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “It didn’t work.” Not only did it not work, it made my face break out in angry acne. I touched my cheek, where the inflammation seemed to be flaring up again. A flicker of something unreadable crossed Ivy’s face before she feigned surprise. “How could that be? It worked wonders for me. It really stabilized my pregnancy.” I wasn’t in the mood for small talk and made an excuse to leave. I walked aimlessly until I found myself in front of the maternity ward’s nursery. I stopped, staring at the tiny, perfect babies, my heart aching with envy. I had always loved children. I thought they were the most precious things in the world. And now, I couldn’t even have one of my own. “What do you think you’re doing?” A shrill voice cut through my thoughts. A woman in a hospital gown stormed over, shoved me, and glared at me with feral eyes. “Who are you? Are you trying to steal my baby?” 3. Stumbling from the push, I rushed to explain. “You’ve misunderstood. I’m just a patient here for a check-up. The babies are so cute, I was just looking.” The woman clutched her baby tighter, her expression still hostile. “A patient? How do I know you’re not lying? What if you have some contagious disease? What if you infect my child?” “I don’t!” I cried, my voice trembling. “You don’t? Then show me your medical file!” she demanded, lunging for the papers in my hand. I instinctively hid the file behind my back. The words “IVF Report” felt like a brand, a mark of my failure that I didn’t want anyone to see. Especially not now, not when I was already so humiliated. But the more I resisted, the more certain she became. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” she sneered, then lunged again, snatching the report from my grasp. She scanned it quickly, then yelled to the gathering crowd. “Everyone, look! This woman is doing fertility treatments! She can’t have her own kids, so she’s trying to steal mine! She’s a monster!” A sea of eyes turned on me. Curiosity, disdain, a few with pity—each glance was a needle pricking my skin. I clenched my fists, my voice dropping to an icy calm. “That’s a ridiculous accusation. If I wanted a child that badly, I could adopt. Why would I need to steal yours?” Just then, Ivy and my parents arrived. Ivy, cradling her belly, took in the scene. A calculating look flashed in her eyes. She rushed to the woman’s side, placing a gentle hand on her arm. “Ma’am, please don’t be angry. My sister just can’t get pregnant, and she’s very distressed. She saw how lovely your baby is and couldn’t help but look. She didn’t mean any harm.” The woman shot me a contemptuous look. “Look at her face, covered in zits. She’s clearly twisted and full of resentment. A person like that couldn’t raise a child even if she could have one! Who knows what she was really planning?” I was shaking with rage, about to tear into her, when my mother grabbed my arm. “Noelle, you were in the wrong first,” she hissed, her voice laced with impatience. “Stop making a scene and embarrassing us.” I stared at my mother in disbelief. I had been insulted and falsely accused for doing nothing more than looking at a baby, and my own family was telling me I was the problem. Ivy patted my back. “Sister, Mom is just looking out for you. Don’t let it get to you. She’s not worth it.” I looked at my parents’ cold, indifferent faces, at the judging eyes of the strangers around me. All my anger and hurt evaporated, replaced by a crushing sense of powerlessness. I bit my lip, forcing back the tears, and walked away without another word. As I turned a corner down the hall, I heard a familiar voice. It was the new mother. She was standing with her husband. “Honey,” he said, “I don’t think that woman meant any harm. Was it really necessary to go after her like that?” The woman hesitated before confessing. “It… it was another pregnant woman, a Mrs. Prescott. She paid me to do it. Said she’d give me good money if I cooperated.” “I was just thinking about how hard you work,” she mumbled. “I thought it would be easy money for diapers and formula.” Her husband was stunned. “But… aren’t they family? Why would she do that?” The woman shook her head and pulled him away, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Keep your voice down! It’s easy money, who cares?” I felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. I stood frozen, the world tilting on its axis. Ivy… why would you do this?

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To take a shortcut, my boyfriend Tommy gunned the engine and steered us into a tunnel not marked on any map. We’d been driving for over thirty minutes now, but there was still no end in sight. My face was pale. I could have sworn the distance between the two mountains was less than half a mile. How could we drive for thirty minutes and still be inside? 1 Tommy was stunned. “I’m pushing seventy-five, Jenna. Even in the city, that would get you across town in no time. I’ve never seen a tunnel this long.” “Maybe there are a lot of turns?” I wondered aloud. “Impossible. I’ve been driving straight the whole time. Haven’t turned the wheel once.” I quickly checked our GPS. The little blue dot on my phone hadn’t moved at all. We had no signal in the tunnel; it was stuck at our position right before we entered. I zoomed in on the map with two fingers. Even though the tunnel itself wasn’t marked, the satellite view showed the distance between the two mountains was clearly just over 700 yards. But we’d been driving for half an hour, and the darkness ahead was still absolute. If Tommy hadn’t said something, I would have thought I was just groggy from a nap. Tommy’s hands were trembling on the steering wheel. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he said, his voice tight, “but in all this time, we haven’t seen a single other car. It’s just been us.” His words sent a chill down my spine. He was right. “That can’t be right,” I said, trying to rationalize it. “The national park is right up ahead. Even if this tunnel is a bit remote, someone else must have used it.” But one look at Tommy’s panicked expression told me he wasn’t joking. “Should we turn back?” I suggested. Even if there’s no exit ahead, we should at least be able to go back the way we came, right? I tried to reassure myself. Tommy immediately spun the car around. The tunnel was pitch black, our headlights only cutting through about thirty feet of the oppressive darkness. We drove for another hour. Still no sign of the entrance. “This is impossible,” Tommy stammered. “I know we were only driving for about thirty minutes before we turned around. How can this be?” “But we’ve been driving back for almost an hour now!” I cried out. Just then, the car’s AI assistant chimed in. “Battery level critical. Please find a charging station soon.” The battery was about to die. We couldn’t even see a sliver of light, let alone a way out. Beads of sweat rolled down Tommy’s forehead. “Jenna, what do we do? It’s like the entrance… it just vanished!” I was about to try and calm him down when a blinding light appeared in the distance. Headlights. There was someone else in here with us! 2 I told Tommy to pull over immediately. I had him stay in the driver’s seat with the door ajar, ready to floor it if we needed to. I’d get out and see who it was. The car approaching us slowed, its window rolling down just a crack. A pair of wide, anxious eyes appeared in the gap. She looked young. Seeing that I was a woman, she seemed to relax a little and rolled the window down further, though still only a third of the way. “Hey, do you know where the exit is?” she asked, her voice shaky. “I’ve been driving for half an hour and haven’t seen anything. This tunnel is insanely long.” So, another lost soul. My hopes sank. I shook my head. “We’re looking for it, too.” After talking for a bit, I learned her name was Hailey, a recent college grad who had also taken the tunnel as a shortcut. I called Tommy over. When Hailey heard we’d been driving back and forth for nearly an hour and a half, her jaw dropped. “You mean you’ve been driving for almost two hours, in both directions, and you haven’t seen an exit or an entrance?” She looked even more terrified than we were. “Check your phone,” I said, my voice weary. “Do you have a signal?” She fumbled for her phone. The top of her screen showed two crossed-out bars. No signal. “What are we going to do?” she whispered. Just as despair started to set in, I remembered something. “Wait, I read a clickbait article once… it said that in an emergency, you can still call 911 even without a signal.” “Quick, try it!” Hailey urged. I quickly dialed. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not reachable at this time. Please try again later.” How was that possible? Maybe the lines were busy? I told them both to try calling 911 as well. But no matter whose phone we used, or how long we waited between calls, the result was the same robotic voice. “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not reachable at this time…” “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is not reachable at this time…” Hailey threw her phone down in a panic. “That’s impossible! My cousin is a cop. He told me that even if the lines are busy, an emergency call gets rerouted to the nearest available dispatcher. It’s impossible for no one to pick up!” Things were getting stranger and stranger. I instinctively grabbed Tommy’s hand. He pulled me into a hug, whispering softly. “Don’t be scared. I’m here.” Hailey rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Now is not the time for PDA.” I offered her an apologetic smile. “Driving is getting us nowhere,” I suggested. “Why don’t we try walking? See if we can find a side path or something. It’s better than burning through what little power we have left.” I tried to push the weirdness of the phone calls out of my mind. Maybe the signal was just completely dead, and the article was wrong. We turned on our phone flashlights and started walking back the way we’d come. We hadn’t gone more than a few steps when my foot landed on something soft and crinkly. “Hold on, I think I stepped on something.” I pointed my light at the ground. A second later, a wave of pins and needles shot up my leg. Lying on the ground was a crushed soda can. Tommy looked confused. “It’s just a Coke can. What’s wrong?” I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. “This can… I threw it out of the car.” “But I remember exactly when I threw it out. It was right at the entrance to the tunnel. The moment we drove in.” 3 A bizarre silence hung in the air. Hailey forced a laugh. “Haha… maybe… maybe the wind blew it in here? I mean, it’s pretty light, right?” Tommy was quiet for a moment. “You’re probably just misremembering, Jenna. Let’s focus on finding a way out. Don’t scare yourself.” My mind went blank for a second. Maybe he was right. I get carsick, and I’d been drifting in and out of sleep the whole way. It was possible I was confused. I followed them numbly, but the feeling of wrongness wouldn’t go away. No, I was sure of it. I distinctly remembered tossing that can at the tunnel entrance. I even took a picture of the view. My eyes widened. The picture! I scrambled to open my phone’s photo gallery. And there it was. A picture of the scenery outside the car window, my hand clearly in the frame, dropping the can. It was taken right at the mouth of the tunnel. I was about to show them when Hailey let out a gasp of excitement. “Hey, look! Is that a phone on the wall?” I looked up. Sure enough, mounted on the tunnel wall was a green emergency telephone, the kind you see in every tunnel. Tommy let out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank god. We should be able to get help now.” He hurried me over to the phone. After two rings, someone picked up. It actually worked? Tommy, stumbling over his words, explained that we were trapped. The voice on the other end was calm. “Okay, sir. Please turn on your flashlights and keep them on. Stay where you are.” “Do not, under any circumstances, wander off. Our personnel are on their way.” Hearing this, Hailey’s tense expression finally relaxed. She grabbed the phone. “Well, hurry up! What kind of messed up tunnel is this? We’re completely lost! I’m going to file a complaint when I get out of here!” “Our apologies, ma’am,” the voice replied smoothly. “This tunnel has been decommissioned. We’re sending someone immediately.” After he hung up, both Tommy and Hailey were smiling with relief. Tommy pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket and offered it to me. “Hungry? Have a bite.” Hailey winked at me. “There they go again with the PDA. You’re lucky to have such a great boyfriend, girl.” I managed a weak smile, but my mind was stuck on what the operator had said. A strange, unsettling feeling was creeping back in. Something wasn’t right. But what… “Do you think that guy on the phone could have been lying to us?” I whispered. Tommy looked surprised. “Why would he lie? Stop overthinking. Let’s think about what we’re going to eat when we get out. BBQ or hot pot, what do you think?” Hailey was bouncing around, waving her flashlight. “Yeah, Jenna, don’t worry about it! What would anyone get from lying to us? We don’t have any money.” But I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. About fifteen minutes later, a man in an orange work uniform appeared in the distance, waving a flashlight. “Sorry about the trouble! This old tunnel has all sorts of problems. Please, follow me.” Behind him was a tow truck. Everything looked so normal. As his light washed over my face, something clicked in my brain. It was like a flash of lightning. I finally realized what was wrong. If the tunnel was decommissioned, why would it have staff? There would be no one working here. “Run!”

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