We were about to graduate from college when my girlfriend, Serena, suddenly broke up with me. She gave me a villa, a Bentley, and eighteen million dollars, saying it was for my four years of companionship. I was completely lost. I wanted to know why. But her voice was cold. “Liam, for people from my kind of family, love and marriage are two separate things. I have to go back for an arranged marriage now. Do you understand?” My girlfriend was engaged, but her fiancé wasn’t me. When I rushed to the engagement party, I saw Serena on the stage. She was wearing a haute couture gown and dazzling jewelry, looking impossibly beautiful and elegant. The man standing opposite her, however, was maybe five-foot-three, overweight, and his face was covered in oily, glistening pimples that looked ready to burst. My girlfriend was going to marry a man like that? Thinking back to last night, it felt like a lifetime ago. I had just gotten back to the villa from my internship when Serena pushed me onto the bed. She leaned down, her lips on mine, and whispered in a husky voice, “Tonight, treat me like I’m not human.” And then, she devoured me. But when I woke up, she was gone. Her phone number was disconnected. Her social media accounts—all of them—were deleted. It was as if she had vanished from my world without a trace, leaving me completely blindsided. Then, her lawyer showed up. He arrived at noon. He said Serena had specifically instructed him to come at noon, so as not to disturb my rest. Then he handed me a document. I read it, completely bewildered. It was a gift deed. It stated that Serena was voluntarily giving me the villa, the Bentley, and eighteen million dollars in cash as a thank-you gift for our four years together in college. So, she had dumped me out of the blue and was now treating me like some boy toy, throwing money at me to make me go away? But I didn’t need her money. I’d told her that when we first got together. She had just smiled confidently and said, “No matter how rich you are, you’re not as rich as me.” I didn’t argue. I was in love with her. But why break up, just like that? Last night, she had been so passionate, so fierce. She had spent the whole night telling me she loved me. How could this be happening? I forced myself to calm down and used my family’s resources to find out what was going on. And that’s how I ended up at her engagement party. I could tell Serena wasn’t happy. Was she being forced into this? “Kiss her! Kiss her!” someone in the crowd yelled. I saw the man reach for Serena’s hand. She recoiled instinctively, pulling away. The man’s face darkened. His thick lips moved, spraying saliva as he spoke. “Have you already forgotten what you promised me?” Serena’s face went pale, but she took a step forward. She was being threatened. I pushed through the crowd and shouted, “Serena, if you’re in trouble, tell me! Don’t do this to yourself!” Every head in the room turned to look at me. When Serena saw me, a flash of joy crossed her cold eyes, but it was instantly replaced by a glacial frost. “Who the hell is this guy?” the man demanded, glaring at me. “You’re calling my fiancée’s name like you know her.” I was about to declare who I was when Serena cut me off. Her beautiful brows furrowed. “He’s just some pathetic dog who follows me around. Have security throw him out. Ignore him.” A pathetic dog? I could feel the contempt in every stare directed at me. Who ever respects a desperate follower? But that wasn’t me. Serena and I met at a club fair. I had just finished playing basketball and was starving, so I swiped some snacks from my roommate. He gave me some grief and jokingly told me to call him “daddy.” It was just dorm-room banter, so I did it. Serena, who happened to overhear, stepped in to defend me. She said you shouldn’t bully people just because they’re poor, but then she also told me off for stealing. She had that take-charge, justice-warrior personality. So, I played the part of the poor, pitiful guy. I followed her around everywhere, and before long, we were together. The whole campus knew she was “keeping” me. People would whisper about her and her boy toy. Worried it would embarrass her, I told her my family was actually loaded. She just shrugged it off. Our four years together weren’t some epic romance, but our love was deep and sweet. We almost never fought. That’s why I couldn’t accept her sudden departure. I had to know why. I stared at her on the stage and started walking toward her. Before I could say a word, the short man stepped in front of me. He was so short he had to crane his neck to look up at me. “You’ve got some nerve coming up here.” He jumped, trying to slap me. I stepped back, dodging the blow, and looked at Serena. “You broke up with me to marry this… thing?” “What are you talking about?” Serena strode forward and slapped me across the face. I had dodged the man’s attack. But I didn’t dodge hers. She was wearing high heels, and I was afraid she would fall. She was about to marry someone else, and I was still worried about her. How pathetic was I? I touched my stinging cheek, my eyes filled with pain. “So, you’re Serena’s college boyfriend?” the man sneered, stepping closer. “A kept man, trying to act tough in front of me? Do you know who I am? I’m Cole Miller. The Millers are the richest family in this city.” I ignored him, my eyes still on Serena. “Leaving without a word. That’s not fair to me.” “Fair?” she retorted. “The villa, the car, the money… I gave you everything. What more do you want? Stop making a scene, Liam. We’re over.” Her brows were knitted together. “You know how it is for people from my kind of family. Love and marriage are separate. Thank you for the last four years, but my husband can only be Cole Miller. Do you understand?” “I’m only asking you one thing,” I said, my gaze unwavering. “Do you love me?” I knew all about arranged marriages between wealthy families. My own parents were a product of one. But they were lucky; they had grown up together, childhood sweethearts whose love story was a natural progression. As for me… I was supposed to have an arranged marriage too, but I didn’t have to. My family’s standing in New York was so secure, we didn’t need alliances to maintain it. “Love?” she scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Liam. I’ve known since I was a child that I would have an arranged marriage. I don’t believe in love. I was with you because you were good-looking and poor enough to be easily controlled.” A sarcastic smile played on her lips. “There. You have your answer. Now go.” So, what I thought was a deep, sweet love was just an illusion. In her eyes, I was just a handsome, obedient boy toy. How laughable. I nodded. If that’s how it was, then so be it. My heart ached, but I could let go. I came here to win her back. If I couldn’t, I would walk away. I looked at her, a bitter smile on my face. “Alright then. I wish you happiness.” With that, I turned to leave the stage. Serena’s hand clenched, but she looked away, refusing to meet my eyes. But Cole Miller blocked my path, a sneer on his face. “Since you’re here, you might as well stay for the ceremony. If you leave, you’re disrespecting me, the Miller family, and the entire city!” “That’s a bold claim,” I said with a laugh. I’d heard lines like that before. New York is a big city; not everyone knows who I am. It’s inevitable that some people will try to act tough in front of me. But after I put a few of them in their place, the talk died down. Cole didn’t catch the disdain in my voice. He clapped his hands. Suddenly, a group of men in black suits emerged, surrounding the stage. “Kid, if I’m not happy today, you’re not walking out of here,” Cole said. Serena rushed over, glaring at me. “Get out of here! I don’t want to see you again!” “Did I say you could speak?” Cole’s face turned cold. “You think I’m a fool? You think I can’t see you’re protecting him?” Protecting me? I looked deeply at Serena and saw the worry in her eyes. Maybe what she said earlier was a lie. But she shook her head. “I just don’t want anything to do with my past. And besides, it’s our engagement party. What does it look like if my ex-boyfriend is here? It’s embarrassing for you.” Her tone softened. “Cole, I’m thinking of you.” Cole’s expression eased slightly, but he still said, “I’m not afraid of being embarrassed. In this city, I am God!” He pointed at me. “Go sit down and watch the ceremony.” I nodded, a half-smile playing on my lips as I glanced at Serena, and walked off the stage. The moment I stepped down, four men in black suits surrounded me. They led me to a corner table and sat me down. They were making sure I couldn’t escape. From the stage, Cole called out to me, “You just sit there and watch, kid. You’re not leaving until I say so.” “If you don’t let me leave now,” I said with a faint smile, “when you want me to leave, I might not want to.” “Shut up!” Serena snapped. I just smiled and said nothing. They wanted to play this game. They shouldn’t blame me for what happened next. Cole added, “I hear you’re from New York. That’s great. Some important people from the city are coming later, all from the upper crust. I’ll introduce you. It’ll be a real eye-opener for you.” “Well, thank you in advance,” I said, unable to suppress another laugh. Just then, a group of young, arrogant-looking people walked over. Cole’s friends, no doubt. “Kid, you must have a death wish.” “You really think Serena can protect you?” “Let me tell you, even if you hadn’t shown up today, Cole wasn’t going to let you off the hook. You think he’d let the man who slept with his fiancée for four years live?” “I’ve got my phone here. Should I call the cops for you?” They laughed openly. I kept my head down, fiddling with my phone, not bothering to engage with them. But one thing was clear: Serena was trying to protect me. The engagement ceremony soon ended. Next was the reception, a time for guests to eat, drink, and network. Cole led Serena from table to table, accepting fawning compliments from everyone. I had taken a moment to look up the Miller family. They were indeed the richest in the city, but they were new money, with no real heritage. They had risen to prominence because of connections in New York, which allowed them to secure major projects in the city. But they had never managed to break into the city’s old-money society. So, the guests here today were either dependent on the Millers or were Serena’s family and friends. Serena’s family, on the other hand, was old money, but they had fallen on hard times. The marriage was a mutually beneficial arrangement. The Millers wanted a ticket into high society. Marrying a woman from an established family was their way in. Serena’s family wanted money to restore their former glory. I had seen countless marriages like this growing up. It was nothing new. It was a tale as old as time. Marriage, after all, has always been a strategic move. Just then, a young girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen, sat down next to me. She had a sweet, pretty face with a hint of baby fat, and she looked a lot like Serena. “I’m Sophie, your ex-girlfriend’s sister.” “Don’t say a word. Just come with me.” She looked adorable, but her voice was ice-cold. She grabbed my hand. But I didn’t move. “Did your sister send you?” “What do you think?” she said, frowning. “Let’s go, now, or you won’t be able to leave!” At that moment, several men in black suits closed in on us.

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I’ve always lived in my brother Sebastian’s shadow. The day I learned he was the fake young master switched at birth, he texted me: 【Hey, your new brother’s coming. Stick with me—we’ll give him a warm welcome.】 When he arrived, Mom pushed me forward and told me to call him “brother.” The boy wore faded clothes, his expression dark and gloomy. I was about to say something sarcastic when comments flashed before my eyes: 【The sidekicks are teaming up to bully him again.】 【The protagonist’s suffered enough. Now he has to deal with these two?】 【Don’t worry—the male lead becomes the most powerful. He’ll bankrupt them with a snap, leaving them digging through trash.】 Oh hell no. I hugged my new brother and said sweetly, “Brother, welcome home.” Instantly, light returned to his gloomy eyes. 1 My brother and I were the envy of everyone, raised in the lap of luxury, coddled by our parents since birth. Our family was wealthy, and every year, we’d throw huge birthday parties at our villa. My brother, Sebastian Wynter, was especially popular. He was handsome, a straight-A student, played the piano, and had a cool, rebellious charm. He was the kid every parent wished they had. And I was his loyal sidekick. When he had a crush on the prettiest girl in school, I was the one delivering his love letters. When he skipped class to play video games, I was his alibi. When he was too lazy to do his homework, I’d stay up all night doing it for him. Because I was the adopted daughter of the Wynter family. When I was little, Sebastian used to tease me, saying that if I didn’t listen to him, he’d have our parents send me back to the orphanage. I cried my eyes out. From that day on, I unknowingly developed a people-pleasing personality. I was always trailing after Sebastian, calling him “brother” this and “brother” that. Until today. Sebastian had asked me, yet again, to buy breakfast for the school beauty. I was halfway there when he texted me: 【Hey, sweetie, have you delivered the breakfast yet?】 I was out of breath and exhausted. 【It’s not that fast! Do you know how far the cafeteria is? I’m not doing this for you next time.】 He laughed. 【You say that every time, but you always do it.】 【I spent all my allowance on a gift for her, so I’ll owe you for this one. Oh, and can you get her breakfast tomorrow too? Thanks.】 【By the way, your new brother is coming home today. You need to be on my side. When he gets here, we’ll team up and put him in his place.】 Sure enough, when I got home, I saw my mother with a strange boy. He stood in the darkest corner of the foyer. His black hair was so long it nearly covered his eyes, his head bowed so no one could read his expression. He wore a faded school uniform, his face was gaunt, and his eyes held a darkness that didn’t belong to someone his age. His hands were covered in calluses. When I saw his face clearly, I froze. Sebastian was considered handsome, but this boy… he was even more striking. He looked just like Mrs. Wynter, with sharp, defined features—a classic, intense beauty that seemed to exist on a different plane from everyone else. I never knew someone could look both broken and regal at the same time. His name was Leo Wynter. He was the son who had been switched at birth, Mrs. Wynter’s biological child. Which meant Sebastian had been living the life of luxury that rightfully belonged to him for seventeen years. But even with Leo home, Mrs. Wynter gently patted Sebastian’s hand and comforted him. “Don’t worry, darling. You’ll always be the most important child in this family.” I watched them carefully. My mother’s attitude would determine my own. I decided to stick with Sebastian. Leo, who had clearly suffered, had the eyes of a wolf. He said nothing, simply staring at our mother until she grew visibly uncomfortable. Only then did she go to him. “I’m so sorry, my child. You’ve suffered so much all these years.” Sebastian saw this and let out a short, mocking laugh. “Mom, it looks like you’re a real family now. Since you’re reunited, should I just leave?” Our mother panicked. She immediately pushed Leo away and rushed to Sebastian’s side. “Don’t be silly. You will always be my most precious son.” Out of her line of sight, Sebastian shot a triumphant smirk at Leo. Leo remained cold and impassive, as if it didn’t matter whether our mother loved him or not. But I was the only one who noticed the flicker of loneliness in his eyes. Mrs. Wynter said to him, “Leo, don’t hold this against him. He’s a victim in this too.” Suddenly, the comments appeared again: 【I can’t. The biggest beneficiary of this whole mess, and he’s the victim?】 【Sebastian got seventeen years of a perfect life, while Leo was stuck with that abusive lowlife, working day and night and getting beaten for it.】 【Yeah, I’d love to be that kind of ‘victim.’】 Leo stayed silent. Feeling a bit guilty, our mother pulled me over to him. “Come on, Chloe, sweetie. Say hello to your brother.” Sebastian pinched my arm and shot me a look. When my brother wanted to bully someone, I was always his first soldier. I took a deep breath, looked at Leo, tilted my chin up, and said with a sneer, “So, you’re my brother?” The comments popped up again: 【Ugh, I can’t watch.】 【The female sidekick is about to tell him she only has one brother and that he should crawl back to whatever hole he came from. This is what shatters his last hope for this family, leaving him with nothing but hate.】 【For real, the protagonist has been through hell. He finally gets home and has to be tormented by these two selfish monsters.】 【It’s okay. He might be pitiful now, but in the future, he becomes the most powerful character in the book. He’ll bankrupt these two with a snap of his fingers, leaving them broke and forced to eat out of trash cans.】 Bankrupt? Eating out of trash cans? Not on my watch. I’d spent years pleasing Sebastian, investing so much emotional labor, all for a comfortable life. No, I had to fix this. I changed my tune immediately. I stepped forward, opened my arms, and gave him a hug. “This brother is handsome. I like this brother,” I chirped. “My name is Chloe. Welcome home.” The boy froze. For the first time, a different expression crossed his cold, stoic face. As I held him, I could feel his stiffness, his uncertainty. And then, a hand, so carefully placed on my back. I smiled and took his hand, pulling him toward the dining room. “Brother, you’re too thin.” “We can’t have that. Dinner’s almost ready. You have to eat a lot.” The comments were dumbfounded: 【What’s going on? The sidekick isn’t bullying him?】 【She must be planning something worse. She’s Sebastian’s accomplice. She helped him bully Leo countless times.】 2 At the dinner table, our mother subconsciously had the maid place all the best dishes in front of Sebastian and me. All Leo had in front of him were the sautéed vegetables I hated. Realizing her mistake, she quickly put a piece of sweet and sour fish on his plate. “Leo, this is delicious. You should have some.” Leo glanced at it. “I don’t eat fish. I’m allergic to seafood.” After a moment of awkward silence, our mother moved the fish to Sebastian’s plate. “Sebastian, you’ve been working so hard at school. Eat up.” Sebastian grinned. “Thanks, Mom. This is my favorite. Can you make it again tomorrow?” “Oh, and Mom, can we have a big seafood feast tomorrow?” He looked at me, head down, shoveling rice into my mouth. “My sister was just telling me she’s craving seafood. Right, sweetie?” The comments popped up again: 【This guy is so disgusting and manipulative, knowing full well the protagonist is allergic.】 【So this is his game. I can’t wait to see these two go bankrupt and end up on the streets.】 My appetite vanished. My survival instincts kicked into high gear. I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Actually, I’m really craving sweet and sour pork, cola chicken wings, spicy tofu, and mushroom chicken stew.” I shook our mother’s arm playfully. “Mom, can we have those, please?” She fell for it, as always, tapping my nose with a smile. “Of course, you little foodie. I’ll have the chef make them for you tomorrow.” Sebastian’s face darkened when he saw me defending Leo. I kept my head down and ate, pretending not to notice. For my entire life, I had catered to his every whim. It was practically instinct. So, saying no to him felt strange. I felt a pang of guilt, a sense of having done something wrong. But I wasn’t going to take the fall for him. After dinner, our mother showed Leo to his room. It was next to mine. I thought the night would pass peacefully. But the comments appeared again: 【I can’t believe it. The fake brother is going to pour water on the protagonist’s blanket. So vile.】 【It’s early spring, the nights are still cold. How is he supposed to sleep?】 【It’s fine. Thinking about how these two evil siblings will end up with nowhere to sleep, fighting with beggars for a spot under a bridge in the rain, makes it all better.】 The comments might have felt better, but my heart was racing. I jumped out of bed, grabbed a new comforter, and padded barefoot to his door, knocking softly. Leo opened it. His gaze lingered on me for a moment. The moonlight traced the sharp line of his jaw, making him look even more striking. I was mesmerized for a second. I quickly held up the comforter. “Brother, I heard your blanket got wet. You can have mine.” He was clearly stunned. He stared at me for a long moment before speaking, his voice raspy and low. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I gave him a big smile. “Because you’re my brother. We’re family.” He seemed struck by those words, repeating them like a question. “Family?” I nodded. “I’m very capable. I’ll take care of you, and I’ll protect you.” He suddenly smiled. “I’m the older brother. I should be the one taking care of and protecting my little sister.” Hearing that made my heart flutter. Because in our house, I had always been the one taking care of Sebastian. I rubbed my nose. “What are your favorite foods, brother? I’ll write them down for the chef.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “You don’t have to. The things you mentioned today… I like all of them.” I grinned. “I knew it. Who doesn’t love cola chicken wings?” Hearing that, for the first time, Leo actually laughed. I stared. He was so beautiful when he smiled. 3 The next morning, Sebastian left for school without me. I knew he was angry. And I felt a little hurt. I had spent my whole life trying to please him, and the one time I didn’t do what he wanted, he gave me the cold shoulder. A text from Jessica, the school beauty, popped up on my phone: 【Chloe, for breakfast today I’m craving the braised noodles with green peppers and pork from the first cafeteria. It’s so far, though. Could you please get it for me?】 Ever since Sebastian started making me her personal delivery girl, she had gotten comfortable, even starting to place specific orders. I wanted to reply, Get it yourself. But after a moment, I deleted the message and typed: 【Okay.】 The truth was, I couldn’t stand Jessica. On the first day of school, our teacher asked us to introduce ourselves. The moment I opened my mouth, she burst out laughing. “Oh my god, are you doing that on purpose? Your voice is giving me goosebumps. It’s so funny. We’re in high school now, you don’t have to act all cutesy.” The entire class laughed with her. My face burned with shame. I wished the ground would swallow me whole. I’m from the South, and my voice is naturally a bit higher pitched. Sebastian kicked his desk. “Alright, that’s enough.” Jessica pouted. “So defensive. Can’t even take a joke. She’s so sensitive.” Sebastian patted my head. “Don’t worry about it, Chloe.” I looked down, feeling a sense of security from the warmth of his hand. But… But then, Sebastian… Why did you fall for her? 4 Even though Sebastian used to threaten to send me back to the orphanage, my years of coddling and weakness had softened him. He had started treating me well. I have hypoglycemia and often forgot to carry candy with me. I’d get dizzy after the third period. After he found out, he always made sure to have a few pieces of candy in his pocket. Whenever I forgot mine, he’d walk over, unwrap an orange candy, and pop it in my mouth, smiling. “You dummy. Always forgetting. You’re such a pain.” Lately, I hadn’t been forgetting my candy. But I’d pretend I did. Because I loved those moments of weakness when my brother would dote on me. But then Jessica started hanging around him, chirping, “Sebastian, do you have a sister complex? It’s so embarrassing. You’re always hovering around her. You’re going to turn her into a spoiled princess.” Sebastian would tell her to shut up, but his ears would turn red. After that, he never carried candy for me again. Soon, his pockets were filled not with orange candies, but with the small hair ties Jessica was always losing. All his patience was reserved for her. He’d smile while helping her with her homework, listening to her whine. He’d meticulously note her likes and dislikes in a notebook. He’d prepare a gift for her for every holiday. He asked me to deliver his love letters to her. He asked me to bring her breakfast. I think, perhaps, he forgot that I hated her. And to keep my brother from hating me, I could only try to please Jessica, pretend I didn’t dislike her, and try to get closer to her. But lately, I felt like I couldn’t keep up the act anymore. The sweetness of the orange candy was long gone. All that was left was a bitter taste in my mouth. 5 The first cafeteria was so far away. It took me forever to get Jessica her breakfast. She took it with a cheerful smile. “I’m so sorry to trouble you all the time.” Sebastian said casually, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. She’s loved running errands for people since she was a kid. My sister is your sister. If you ever need anything, just ask her.” I should have been used to hearing things like that. But thinking about what Leo had said last night, I felt a knot in my stomach. He said a brother should take care of and protect his sister. Maybe my brother was just different. The bell rang, and Leo walked into the classroom. My father had placed him in our class. He wore a clean, crisp new uniform, his bangs trimmed to reveal his handsome eyes. He didn’t look as gloomy as he had yesterday. Honestly, just standing there, he was so good-looking that every strand of his hair seemed to glow. Someone like him should have been incredibly popular at school. But Sebastian had already gone around first thing in the morning, telling everyone not to sit with him. So when the teacher asked who would be his desk partner, no one spoke up. The light in Leo’s eyes began to dim. Just as the teacher was about to assign someone, I raised my hand. “Brother, over here!” Leo froze for a second, then his head snapped up, his eyes wide. The comments were confused: 【Isn’t this sister supposed to be the evil sidekick? Why does she seem so sweet? Like a good kid.】 【It’s got to be an act. She’s been a great actress since she was little. Protagonist, please don’t fall for it!】 A classmate leaned over. “Chloe, is he your brother too?” Sebastian scoffed. “Hardly. We’re not even related.” He shot me a warning look. Leo ignored him and walked straight to the empty seat beside me. He turned his head and whispered, “Thanks.” Seeing his profile up close, I couldn’t help but say, “Your eyelashes are so long.” He seemed taken aback by the blunt compliment. His Adam’s apple bobbed. When he looked away, the tips of his ears had turned a faint shade of red. It was kind of cute. A strange, ticklish feeling spread through my chest. I bit my lip to hide a smile. Sebastian watched me, a wave of irritation rising within him. After class, he pulled me into an empty hallway. “Chloe, what did I do wrong? Why are you fighting me on everything now?” He leaned in closer. “You got a new brother, so you don’t like me anymore?” I said quietly, “I just don’t want to make enemies.” He raised an eyebrow. “You coward. So what if you make an enemy of him? You think he’d dare bully you? I’m here. I’ll protect you.” I lowered my eyes. “No,” I whispered. “You can’t protect me.” I couldn’t tell him about the future the comments had described. And besides… He had never really protected me. Sebastian frowned, annoyed. “Who says I can’t protect you?” Just then, the bell for the next class rang, saving me. It was gym class. First up was the 800-meter run. My hypoglycemia kicked in. Halfway through, my vision went black, my legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the track. My classmates gasped and rushed over. I’d torn my pants. Blood was seeping from the gash on my knee. Hiss. I sucked in a breath, the pain so sharp I couldn’t stand. Sebastian immediately crouched down. “Get on. I’ll carry you to the nurse’s office.” Jessica glanced at my knee and muttered, “Is that really necessary? It’s just a little scrape. Why are you being so dramatic?” “Sebastian, you’re going to turn her into a spoiled princess.” Sebastian hesitated. There it was again. Always. I couldn’t take it anymore. “But you have him buy you breakfast every day with his own money, you have him carry the hair ties you always lose, you whine for gifts from him for every holiday, and you practically sit in his lap whenever you need help with a problem. Does that mean you don’t have a princess complex?”

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A guy from the client’s team posted a project proposal in the group chat with a major flaw. I was going to message him privately, just a friendly heads-up. I sent him a contact request. He ignored it twice. Then he changed his profile picture to a matching couple’s avatar. My assistant showed me a different group chat. The same guy was telling everyone I was hitting on him. “I thought I dropped enough hints, but she just won’t let go. She should really take a look in the mirror.” “I have a girlfriend, for God’s sake. Why is she so desperate? It’s pathetic.” “That ugly duckling must’ve had a meltdown last night. Went silent, probably too ashamed to reply, huh?” 1 The company was launching a massive, eighty-million-dollar project. Linda Mason was the official lead, but I was in the main project group to keep an eye on things. The chat was a chaotic sea of over a hundred people. The client was a young, dynamic agency called Apex Innovations. One of their project guys, Ken Kane, dropped a file in the chat. I opened it and gave it a quick scan. The unit of measurement for the material data was wrong. He’d written “kilograms” instead of “tons.” An easy fix—just move the decimal point—but a potentially catastrophic oversight. If it went unnoticed, procurement, construction, and cost analysis would all be based on that faulty number. All hell would break loose. Apex had a decent reputation; they were usually on the ball. Everyone makes mistakes. I felt a pang of sympathy and decided to give him a quiet heads-up. I found Ken Kane’s icon in the project group, tapped on it, and sent a contact request. A day passed. The request vanished into the digital ether. Linda was the public face of this project, and I didn’t want to step on her toes or disrespect her authority. That’s why I hadn’t revealed my senior role in the group chat. My display name was just my name: Monica. I tapped on Ken’s icon again and sent another request. This time, I added a note: “Work-related. Need to verify some data in the file.” Crystal clear, right? Another day went by. Still nothing. I checked his profile again, and his picture had changed. Yesterday, it was a cartoon boy holding a coffee cup. Today, it was a cutesy, chibi-style couple’s avatar. A boy and a girl in matching, ridiculously cheerful striped shirts, standing in front of a giant red heart. My stomach dropped. No, it couldn’t be… Did this guy think I was adding him to hit on him? And did he scramble to change his avatar to a couple’s one just to stake his claim? I shook my head, trying to banish the thought. That was absurd. No sane person’s mind works that way. It had to be a coincidence. He was just due for a new profile pic. My assistant, Alex, knocked and entered, a strange look on his face. “Ms. Vance…” He held out his phone, showing me a screenshot of a group chat. The group name was “Apex Spill the Tea,” clearly their agency’s private gossip channel. The conversation was buzzing. An ID named “Ken (Design God)”—with that same cartoon couple as his avatar—was lighting up the chat. “LMAO, you guys, that Monica chick from the client side just tried adding me again. This time she’s pretending it’s about ‘work-related communication.’” “Seriously, I can smell a woman’s agenda from a mile away.” “Haven’t I made it obvious enough? I put up the couple’s avatar and everything, and she’s still coming after me. How desperate can you get?” “I have a girlfriend! This is next-level pathetic. She’s so full of herself, it’s unreal!” 2 A flood of replies followed, all cheering him on. “Hahaha, Ken, you’re irresistible!” “For real, she should get a mirror.” “The ugly duckling trying to become a swan.” Alex swiped down, showing me more. “Ken’s girlfriend is a goddess. That chick can’t even compare.” “Totally! She’s gorgeous and so sweet!” “You know it,” chimed in “Ken (Design God)” again. “My girl just bought me the latest designer watch yesterday!” And then: “Some people can only drool over my profile picture, I guess. Hehe.” Alex cleared his throat awkwardly. “Ms. Vance, I’m sure he doesn’t know who you are. It’s just a misunderstanding.” I stared at the screen, the words stinging like tiny needles. “Tomorrow afternoon,” I said, my voice even, “schedule a meeting with Patricia Vance from Apex. Linda and I will go over there.” Alex nodded quickly. “Right away, Ms. Vance.” He practically fled my office, phone in hand. I leaned back in my chair, my fingers drumming a silent, restless rhythm on the desk. Interesting. In all my life, no one had ever called me an ugly duckling. A few moments after Alex left, my phone lit up. A notification: “Ken (Design) has accepted your contact request.” He accepts it now? I looked at the cartoon couple on his profile, a cold smile touching my lips. I didn’t message him. I didn’t want to waste a single word on him. With someone whose logic was this warped, any communication would just be twisted into new material for his “she’s harassing me” narrative. My phone pinged again. A message from him. “Ms. Monica, hello. First of all, thank you for your interest.” “However, I must state in no uncertain terms: there is no possibility of anything between us beyond necessary professional communication.” “I must insist that you maintain a professional distance. This is a matter of respect, not just for me, but for my girlfriend.” “Relationships require boundaries. I hope you can understand and act accordingly.” “Furthermore, I am being officially promoted to Project Lead of the design department tomorrow.” “I am passionate about my work and intend to devote all my energy to it.” “Frankly, I have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with unnecessary personal entanglements.” “I’ve said my piece. Please conduct yourself with dignity. Regards, Ken Kane.” I stared at this long, self-righteous, and utterly delusional “declaration.” My thumb hovered over the keyboard, typing and deleting, typing and deleting. In the end, I sent nothing. Argue with him? That would be like wrestling with a pig in mud. I flipped my phone face down on the desk. Out of sight, out of mind. 3 The next afternoon, Linda and I pulled up in front of the Apex Innovations building right on time. As expected, their CEO, Patricia Vance, was waiting at the lobby entrance with a small entourage. The moment our car stopped, Patricia practically jogged over, her face a mask of enthusiastic, nervous smiles. “Ms. Vance! Ms. Mason! Welcome, welcome! You honor us with your presence!” She personally opened my car door, her posture deferential. After a few pleasantries, Patricia led us toward the elevators. “We have the conference room all set up. This way, please.” The elevator whisked us to the fifth floor. As the doors opened, we could faintly hear the sound of boisterous male laughter drifting from a large conference room at the end of the hall. It was loud and unrestrained. Patricia’s expression tightened. She picked up her pace. “These guys,” she muttered under her breath, “I told them we had important clients visiting today.” She shot us an apologetic smile. “I’ll have them quiet down immediately.” We reached the conference room. The heavy, frosted glass door was closed. The laughter inside was even clearer now, completely unguarded. “Haha, Ken, what happened next? Did she ever text you back? That Monica girl?” an excited voice asked. My heart sank. It was Ken’s voice, dripping with undisguised mockery. “Text back? You think she’d dare?” “She probably saw my message and had a total meltdown.” “Not a peep out of her since last night.” “Tsk, I’ve seen her type before. I called her out on her pathetic little crush, and now she’s too ashamed to show her face.” “What a coward!” The room erupted in laughter. “Hahaha, coward! That’s the perfect word for it, Ken!” “Seriously, who does she think she is, making a move on our Ken?” “Our Ken is about to be a Project Lead!” “Damn right! The guy’s a genius.” “He’s handsome, talented, and his girlfriend is gorgeous and spoils him rotten.” “Some ugly ducklings will never even touch the feather of a swan like his girlfriend!” Ken’s voice adopted a tone of smug “humility.” “Ah, come on, guys. My girlfriend’s alright, I guess.” “She insisted on taking me to that new French place last night, the one that’s like five hundred bucks a plate. So stuffy.” “I told her we could just grab a burger, but she wouldn’t hear of it.” “Oh, and now she’s saying that once my promotion is official, she’s taking me on a celebratory trip to Europe.” “So annoying. Like I have the time for that. Honestly!” Patricia’s face had gone completely pale, a sheen of sweat on her forehead. She raised her hand to push the door open. My hand stopped her. I motioned for her to be silent. Linda, standing beside me, looked tense. Patricia stared at my cold profile, swallowed hard, and didn’t dare to breathe. 4 I gave Patricia a slight nod, signaling she could proceed. As if granted a pardon, she took a sharp breath and shoved the heavy glass door open. It slammed against the wall with a loud thwack. The conference room fell instantly silent. Three or four young men were gathered around the table, half-empty coffee cups scattered before them. Ken was sitting near the head of the table, one leg casually crossed over the other, a Starbucks cup in hand. He was sharply dressed today in well-fitting slacks that accentuated his build. The gleeful, smug expression on his face instantly morphed into a standard, sycophantic corporate smile the second he saw Patricia. “Patricia!” He was the first to stand, his voice oozing with a desire to please. The other men scrambled to their feet, plastering smiles on their faces. “Hi, Patricia.” “Glad you could make it, Patricia.” Patricia’s face was a thundercloud. She shot a death glare at Ken and his friends before stepping aside. “Ms. Vance, Ms. Mason, please, come in.” She forced a smile and gestured for us to enter. Linda and I walked in. Ken’s eyes flicked over Linda with familiar deference, then landed on me. The warmth in his gaze instantly vanished. Linda cleared her throat, trying to diffuse the tension. “Patricia, and this is…?” I cut her off, my gaze fixed calmly on Ken. “Hello. I’m Monica.” I stated my name. My voice wasn’t loud, but in the unnervingly quiet room, it was perfectly clear. The smile on Ken’s face faltered. A flicker of confusion crossed his eyes, as if the name sounded vaguely familiar. But just as quickly, the confusion was replaced by a thick wave of annoyance and contempt. He looked me up and down, his eyes scanning me like he was appraising a piece of cheap merchandise. A scornful smirk played on his lips. “Oh?” he drawled. “So it’s you. Ms. Monica.” “Well, well, you’ve got some nerve, don’t you?” “Following our CEO all the way to the office?” “What’s the matter? Did my message last night hit a little too close to home? You came here to corner me?” He let out a short, derisive laugh. “Was I not clear enough on the chat yesterday? Do you need me to repeat myself in front of everyone?” “I told you to keep your distance!” “Do you not understand English?” The air was thick with a dead silence. The other guys darted their eyes between me and Ken, their faces alight with the thrill of watching a drama unfold. Patricia’s lips trembled. “Ken, shut your mouth!” “Patricia!” Ken’s voice shot up, cutting her off. He looked like a man deeply wronged. He pointed a finger at me, the tip nearly touching my face. “You see this? Yesterday, I was trying to be nice, trying to let her down easy and save her some dignity.” “And what does she do? She shows up at my workplace today to harass me!” “Is this even legal? Is there no decency left?” “Patricia, you have to do something about this. I can’t work under these conditions!” His voice cracked with emotion. The performance was truly spectacular. 5 Patricia’s face was as white as a sheet, cold sweat pouring down her temples. I raised my hand and gently pushed his jabbing finger away from my eye. “Everyone else, out.” My eyes flicked to the other men. Patricia, as if receiving a royal decree, immediately barked at them. “You heard her! Get out! Now! Immediately!” The men flinched, hastily grabbing their phones and coffee cups, and scurried out of the room, hugging the wall as they went. As they passed me, their eyes were filled with undisguised contempt and schadenfreude. They clearly thought I was kicking them out to get Ken alone, to pursue him. The stupidity was breathtaking. Ken remained standing, watching his colleagues leave. The feigned look of victimhood vanished, replaced by an expression of smug victory. He even shot a wink toward the door, the corner of his mouth curled high as he mouthed a silent taunt. “See? Told you the ugly duckling wouldn’t give up. Had to get me alone.” Linda coughed awkwardly. “Patricia, Ms. Vance is…” Patricia finally snapped. “Ken, shut up! Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” Ken jutted out his chin, defiant. “Of course I do, Patricia! It’s Monica! The woman who’s been harassing me!” “I made it perfectly clear last night. I told her I have a girlfriend. Even if you were trying to set us up, I would never agree to it.” “Work is work, and my personal life is my personal life. You’re the boss, but you can’t interfere with that.” He turned back to me. “If you keep this up, I’ll post about your disgusting behavior in the main project chat. We’ll let everyone from both companies be the judge!” My expression remained flat. What on earth was he even talking about? How had he constructed this elaborate fantasy from a simple contact request? Patricia’s voice rose to a full-blown roar. “Are you blind? This is Ms. Monica Vance from corporate headquarters! The head of the entire project!” “The eighty-million-dollar deal was approved because she gave it the green light! Who the hell do you think you are, talking to her like that?” “She’s worth millions, one of the most eligible women in the city! A-list actors and heirs of fortunes are lining up to ask her out! You think she’d be interested in you?” “And you dare accuse her of harassment? You must be out of your goddamn mind!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “394281”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I lost a game of Truth or Dare and my punishment was to go out, grab a random stranger, and tell them, “I’m the killer.” I picked a guy who looked the most aloof, the least likely to get involved. Steeling myself, I walked up and said, “I did it… I’m the killer.” The aloof, handsome guy stared at me for two seconds, then slowly pulled out a walkie-talkie. “Suspect has confessed. Fall back.” Me: Wait, what?? 1 Huh? That’s not how this was supposed to go. Before my brain could even process what was happening, the handsome guy had a hand on my shoulder, steering me to the side. “Get in the car.” Oh crap, I’ve really done it now. Reality hit, and I started to struggle. “No, wait, officer! It was a dare! I’m not a killer!” The handsome cop didn’t seem convinced. His grip on my arm just tightened. “Get in the car.” I could hear the ice in his voice, so I didn’t dare fight back. I let him lead me, muttering under my breath, “I’m really not a killer. My friends are right around the corner, they can vouch for me! I’m sorry, I’ll never play a stupid game like this again, just let me go!” He ignored me, pulling me toward a black, unmarked car in a few quick strides. The door swung open and he shoved me inside, speaking into his walkie-talkie as he scanned the area. “Suspect is in the vehicle.” I sprawled across the back seat, on the verge of tears. “Officer, I’m really—” “Shh.” The handsome cop gave me a sharp silencing gesture. “Play along. Now that you’re in the car, the real suspect will let their guard down.” I froze, then it clicked. I scooted further into the car, making room for him as he slid in beside me. We sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. I couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re really an undercover cop, right?” I whispered. “You’re not, like, a human trafficker?” He glanced at me. “A little late to be asking, don’t you think?” Before I could panic, he added, “But yes, I’m a cop. You can relax about that. And…” He looked me up and down, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You do fit the criminal profile we have for our suspect.” “There has to be a ‘but’ in that sentence, right?” I pleaded. A small smile touched his lips. “But…” Before he could finish, the walkie-talkie crackled to life. “Target is on the move!” His expression changed in an instant. He threw the door open and sprinted out, his voice trailing behind him. “But I know you’re not the killer.” “Because at the time of the murder, you were with me.” 2 What the hell? I’ve been in a room with a cop before? I have absolutely no memory of that! And with a face like his—sharp brows, striking eyes—there’s no way I would have forgotten! As I was racking my brain, the car door opened again. The handsome cop gestured for me to get out. I peeked out and saw a few other people. A couple of young men were holding a woman, trying to get her into another car. Her build was pretty similar to mine. Seeing me, one of them signaled to the handsome cop. “Noah! Make sure you get the young lady home safe!” The cop, Noah, nodded, then raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you getting out? Or were you hoping for that cup of tea at the station?” “…Did you arrest her for murder?” I asked, my inner gossip columnist taking over. A girl who looked so frail and unassuming, a killer? Noah’s face was all business. “I can’t disclose case details to civilians.” I pouted, then another thought struck me. “You said you were with me at the time of the murder. That’s related to me, right?” He didn’t deny it. “Three days ago, in the afternoon. You were at the gym, right? You were on the stair climber, and I was a few machines behind you.” Right, that did happen. But he wasn’t finished. “Same day, that evening. You went to a bar, right?” I was stunned. “You were there too? How could you even remember my face in that chaos?” His voice was flat. “You had too much to drink. You felt faint and short of breath when you left the bar, so you sat on the steps outside to recover.” Also true. That also happened. His tone shifted slightly. “The people around you thought you were having an asthma attack and told you to control your breathing, to press on your chest and regulate your breaths.” Very true. That’s exactly what happened. Noah let out a breath, a crack finally appearing in his calm facade. “Now, let me ask you this. Do you remember whose chest you were pressing on?” 3 I have a tendency to black out when I drink. My last memory of that night at the bar was my hand landing on something… soft. I remember being pleased at the time, thinking all those papaya smoothies were finally paying off and my cup size had gone up. But now… Did I grope this handsome cop’s chest that night?! Seeing Noah’s face darken, I rushed to apologize. “I’m so sorry! I-I was really drunk…” He stared at me for a few seconds, his jaw clenched, then forced the words out through his teeth. “I just have one question for you—” “Is my chest really that flat?” There was a hint of desperation in his voice. “I’ve been working out for three months! You’re telling me I haven’t gained any muscle at all?!” He sounded so genuinely devastated that I felt like a criminal. “No, no, no!” I waved my hands frantically. “I was drunk, I was slurring my words! What I meant to say was, why isn’t my chest flat anymore!” “Your chest is amazing! It’s firm, it’s sculpted, it’s… impressive! It feels great, unforgettable, makes you want to touch it again and again.” Noah was silent for a few seconds, a vein throbbing at his temple. “I understand the sentiment, but can you please take your hand off my chest now?” Oops. Didn’t even realize. I snatched my hand back, laughing nervously. “Force of habit, force of habit.” He shot me a sideways glance. “Where do you live? I’ll take you home.” My friends were still waiting for me at the board game cafe nearby, but… I looked at the handsome man in front of me and gave him a sweet smile and an address. “That would be wonderful, Officer Noah.” My place wasn’t far, just a regular apartment complex, but Noah’s expression remained complicated the whole way. The car pulled up to the entrance of my complex. I was about to unbuckle my seatbelt and thank him when he reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t get out just yet. I’ll walk you in.” I blinked. Oh? This boy wants to spend a little more time with me, does he? 4 Noah saw my expression and his face twitched. He looked like he wanted to say something, but held back. “Which building, which unit?” I pointed ahead with a smirk. “Building 5, unit 3.” His expression relaxed slightly. “Okay.” He drove into the complex and stopped in front of the building. This time, he didn’t stop me from unbuckling. “Feeling better now?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. He paused. “What?” “I’m not an idiot,” I said with a huff. “You wouldn’t just randomly be this nice and walk me all the way in. You wanted to know exactly where I live, right?” A genuine smile touched his lips. “You’re pretty sharp.” Seeing him in a good mood, I decided to press my luck. “So why did you want to know? Does that murder case you mentioned have something to do with this complex?” Oh god, I hope this doesn’t affect property values! This time, he didn’t hide it. “The victim did live in this complex. But in a building far from yours.” That was a relief. I nodded and prepared to get out. “Hey.” Noah suddenly spoke, pulling out his phone. “Can I get your number? In case anything comes up and we need your cooperation.” I didn’t refuse, and we exchanged contacts. “What’s your name?” he asked. I smiled. “Amy.” He raised an eyebrow. “Alright, Ms. Amy. Please keep your phone on.” I grunted in agreement, got out of the car, and walked into the building. Through the stairwell window, I watched Noah’s car turn around and drive away. Only when it was completely out of sight did I slip back out of the building and head towards the back, to Building 9. If he was going to play games with me, I wasn’t going to tell him the truth either. Just as I was silently congratulating myself on my cleverness, I heard footsteps. A figure emerged from behind the corner of the building, blocking my path. “Ms. Amy.” It was Noah, still in his black clothes. He was smiling, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re not being very honest, are you?” 5 So, I ended up having that cup of tea at the station after all. In the interrogation room, I was on the verge of tears. “I really have nothing to do with the murder! He’s a grown man, and he wanted to walk me home, all the way to my unit number! Of course I was going to be cautious!” A woman living alone has to be careful, you know! Noah looked frustrated. “I’m a police officer!” As if that explained everything! Another female officer tried to soothe me. “Don’t worry, Ms. Amy. Noah is just eager to solve the case. He doesn’t mean any harm. And we didn’t bring you here because we think you’re the killer.” Noah added from the side, “It’s just too much of a coincidence.” I didn’t get it. What did he mean? He sighed. “Your real address is Building 9, right? The victim of the murder, she also lived in your building.” I gasped. My property values! “Which unit was it?” I asked urgently. “The person wasn’t killed in the apartment, were they? I haven’t seen any police cars around our complex lately!” This time, Noah was forthcoming. “The resident of 302, Ms. Miller. She wasn’t killed in her apartment. She was struck on the head with a heavy object near her workplace.” “Mrs. Miller is dead?!” I exclaimed. He raised an eyebrow. “You knew her well?” I nodded, then shook my head. “Not well, but we’d chat sometimes. She lived alone and was struggling financially. I felt sorry for her, so I’d help her out now and then.” “Struggling financially?” Noah asked. “But from what I understand, the rent and property values in your complex aren’t cheap. How could she afford to live there if she had no money?” I shrugged. I had no idea. It was dark by the time I left the interrogation room. Noah offered to drive me home. “Is Officer Noah going to want to know my apartment number this time, too?” I asked sarcastically. He held back a smile. “Still holding a grudge?” “Of course not,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re the police.” He sighed. “I was out of line today. I’m sorry.” His apology sounded sincere, so I dropped the attitude, muttering, “Just don’t let it happen again.” He actually laughed. “Most people would be happy to never have to deal with the police again. You’re already thinking about a next time?” I rested my chin on my hand and turned to look at him, a playful smile on my face. “Maybe it’s because this particular police officer is especially handsome.” “And…” My gaze drifted down to his chest. “Especially… well-endowed.” “Makes me want to get my hands on him.” 6 Noah sentenced me to write an 800-word apology for harassing a public official. Seriously?! Is there no justice in this world! I just have a thing for guys with nice pecs! But he wouldn’t listen to my excuses and demanded I send it to him by Friday. I sulked for a while, then finally managed to squeeze out 800 words and send it to him just before the end of the workday on Friday. He replied almost instantly: 【Did you use even a single brain cell to write this?】 Hey! Who’s he calling brainless! I furiously typed back: 【Sir, I’m admitting my mistake with such a good attitude. The least you could do is praise me, not mock me!】 The next second, my phone buzzed. It was a call from Noah. His voice was lazy, with a hint of a smile. “Alright, I’ll praise you. You’re a good girl.” I huffed. “That’s it? You think a few nice words are enough?” He chuckled. “Not enough?” “If it’s not enough—” He drew out the words. “Then come on down. I’ll praise you properly.” Noah was here? I was surprised. I hurried downstairs and, sure enough, there was his black car. The door was open, and he was sitting in the driver’s seat, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his face obscured by the smoke. I didn’t make a sound, just watched him from the entrance of my building. He was already handsome, but with the cigarette, he had a lazy, arrogant air about him that was surprisingly attractive. I couldn’t help but pull out my phone and sneak a picture. Click. His head snapped up, his gaze sharp and piercing. “Come out.” I rubbed my nose and walked out, my phone in my hand. “Sorry, forgot to turn the sound off.” When he saw it was me, he relaxed, stood up, and stubbed out his cigarette. He came over and ruffled my hair, venting his frustration. “You scared me. I thought the killer was hiding here, waiting to ambush me.” I blinked. “What do you mean? The person who killed Mrs. Miller? Didn’t you guys catch them?” He smoothed my hair back down. “Means we didn’t catch the real killer.” “The woman we caught was just a thief. She was the first one to find Mrs. Miller’s body, so she stole all her valuables. But she didn’t kill her.” A chill went down my spine. So there was still a killer on the loose? And that killer was likely still hanging around Mrs. Miller’s home? Why? Just as I was wondering, I heard a faint sound from above. “Look out!” The next second, Noah lunged, grabbing my shoulders and shoving me into the building entrance. Crash! A loud thud exploded behind me. When I turned, the spot where I’d been standing was covered in the shattered remains of a flowerpot. “Are you okay?!” Noah asked urgently. “Are you hurt anywhere?” I struggled out of his arms. “I’m fine, I’m not hurt.” He let out a breath of relief, then his head snapped up. 7 I followed his gaze up into the dark stairwell, but it was too dim to see anything. “You think someone’s up there?” I whispered. “You think that pot was thrown on purpose?” He grunted in affirmation, his brow furrowed. He clearly wanted to go up and check, but he was worried about leaving me alone. “I’ll go with you.” I slipped out of his embrace, my voice calm. “I have a circular saw at home. I can bring it with me. And…” He looked at me. “And what?” I glanced up at the floors above us. “This has happened before in our complex. It wasn’t on purpose. Some of the residents put flowerpots and other things on their balconies, and they fall off when it’s windy or if they’re not secured properly.” Noah frowned. “What is the property management doing? Why haven’t they stopped such a dangerous practice?” “It’s mostly the elderly residents,” I said with a sigh. “How can you manage them? If you say too much, they’ll just lie on the ground and complain of heart trouble.” He shook his head. “Unbelievable.” “Anyway, I didn’t see anyone in the stairwell when I came down. Even if there is a killer, why would they throw a pot at me?” I glanced at him. “Throwing it at you, I could understand. Throwing it at me is just a waste of a perfectly good flowerpot.” He looked amused. “How do you know it wasn’t aimed at me? We were standing less than two feet apart.” He had a point. I scratched my head and hid behind him. “Okay, let’s go. Let’s go check it out.” Our building wasn’t a high-rise, only seven floors. I lived on the top floor, and I hadn’t seen anyone on my way down. Noah led me up the stairs, but we didn’t see anyone. I threw my hands up. “See? I told you.” He was still frowning. “Maybe they’re hiding. I don’t believe in coincidences.” “Where could they hide?” I asked. “We don’t have an elevator. There’s only this one staircase. How could they hide?” He stroked his chin, thinking, then his eyes lit up. “I know a place. A place someone could hide.” “And… a place that’s easily overlooked.” The place he was talking about was Mrs. Miller’s apartment. Standing in front of 302, I blinked. “Hide… in here?” He gestured for me to step back. “Yeah. No one’s been living here since she died. The police finished their investigation and left. It’s an empty apartment.” He jangled a set of keys in his hand. “The property manager gave us these so we could get in and investigate. But who knows who else has a key.” That was true. If Mrs. Miller’s murder wasn’t a crime of passion, it was likely the killer was someone she knew. Someone who might have a key to her apartment. He gestured for me to move further away. I took a few more steps down to the landing. Only then did he insert the key and press down on the handle. With a soft click, the door opened a crack. And his expression changed. “What’s wrong?” I asked, peeking around the corner. His face was tense. “The door was open.” “It wasn’t locked.” 8 I was stunned. “Maybe the police who were here before forgot to lock it?” He frowned. “No, they wouldn’t make a rookie mistake like that. And the property manager was with them. The door would have been locked.” He carefully pushed the door open. The living room was right inside, bright and sunny. A quick scan revealed no one was there. “Turn on your saw and stand guard by the door.” He pulled out his baton and instructed me, “If someone comes out, don’t try to stop them. Just protect yourself.” I nodded and flipped the switch. The buzz of the saw filled the air, vibrating up my arm. He took a deep breath and stepped inside. The apartment wasn’t large, about 800 square feet. It took him less than three minutes to search the whole place. He came out and shook his head. “No one.” “Maybe they slipped out while we were on the sixth or seventh floor,” I guessed. The doors in our complex had just been serviced, so they opened and closed quietly. It would be hard to hear from two floors down. He looked frustrated, pulling out his phone. “I’ll tell my backup not to come up. They can search the area around the complex first.” I nodded, my eyes scanning the apartment. The layout was simple, and a thin layer of dust had settled on the furniture. My gaze fell on the dining table. It wasn’t really a dining table, more like a small altar with an incense burner and several framed photos. One of the photos immediately caught my eye. It was a profile shot of a young woman, clearly taken without her knowledge. A large red ‘X’ had been drawn across her face. It was unsettling. Who was she? A young Mrs. Miller? She didn’t look like her. Just as I was wondering, Noah came over and pulled me back. “Let’s go.” I jumped, and the saw lurched forward, nearly hitting him below the belt. “Hey!” He dodged, a mix of anger and amusement on his face. “Are you trying to make me the last of my line?” I quickly turned off the saw, laughing nervously. “Of course not. We can’t waste a handsome man’s genes.” He pinched my cheek. “And how would we not waste them?” I scratched my chin. This conversation was taking a turn. Seeing my silence, he huffed and turned to leave. “All talk, no action.” Hey! Who’s he calling all talk? I immediately went after him, about to clap him on the shoulder, when I froze. “Noah… I think you’re bleeding!” 9 He grunted in confusion, then moved his shoulder and winced. “A piece of the pot must have gotten me. I was wondering why it hurt.” I was speechless. How thick-skinned do you have to be to not notice that for so long! “Come on, come on,” I pushed him downstairs. “Who knows how deep it is? What if it hit a nerve?” He wasn’t worried. “If it was that bad, I’d be rolling on the floor by now.” And he was right. When we got downstairs and he took off his shirt, the wound wasn’t deep at all. He could get the shard out with a pair of tweezers. I held his shirt, nervously wringing the fabric. “Does it need stitches?” He waved his hand. “The wound isn’t even as big as my finger. Stitches would just be embarrassing.” “It’s not about being embarrassed, it’s about whether it hurts,” I grumbled. He tilted his head and smiled, poking my cheek. “Lighten up. Why so serious?” “You got hurt saving me,” I mumbled. “How could I laugh? I’m not that heartless.” He chuckled. “It’s not that serious. I get hurt saving people all the time. I’m used to it.” I knew he was trying to make me feel better, but I wasn’t listening. My entire focus was on his chest, which was suddenly very close. He’d taken his shirt off to clean the wound, and now a half-naked, well-built, handsome man was standing right in front of me, his pecs practically bouncing with every movement. Oh god, I think I’m getting lightheaded. “Amy?” He waved a hand in front of my face. “Are you listening?” “…Huh?” My eyes didn’t move from the two points dancing before me. “Amy…” His voice changed, a complex mix of emotions. “You’re bleeding, too.” “From your nose.” 10 Oh crap! It’s definitely because of the hot, dry weather lately! It has nothing to do with his chest! I quickly tilted my head back to wipe my nose, but he grabbed the back of my neck. “Don’t tilt your head back! Lean forward!” He pinched the bridge of my nose and called for another officer to get an ice pack. I tried to stop him, my voice muffled. “I’m fine! Don’t bother anyone!” “Don’t move,” he said, trying to scare me. “You want the blood to go down into your stomach?” “It’s not that dramatic,” I muttered, but I stood still as he placed a cold water bottle on the bridge of my nose. “Amy, you’re hopeless,” he teased. “A little nosebleed and you’re out for the count?” I glared at him. “You say one more word and I’ll bite your nipples!” A nearby officer snickered. Noah’s face darkened. The bleeding stopped soon enough, and Noah got dressed after bandaging his shoulder. I looked at him. “Do I still get my reward?” He shot me a look. “You were just about to bite me, and you still want a reward?” I thought for a moment. “Oh, that’s fine. That can be the reward.” He was speechless for a second, then he pinched my cheek. “You’re a handful.” I scratched my chin, saying nothing. While we were getting patched up, the other officers had finished searching the area. They hadn’t found anyone suspicious. “So the flowerpot was just an accident?” I wondered. “But what about Mrs. Miller’s door being unlocked? Was that an accident too?” “We can’t be sure yet,” he said, his hand moving to the back of my neck, guiding me forward. “Let’s go.” “Where are we going?” His eyes met mine, a faint smile in them. “Don’t you want your reward?” My eyes lit up, and I forgot about everything else. “Let’s go!” He drove out of the complex and to a commercial street, stopping in front of a restaurant. I looked at it, my enthusiasm waning. “The reward is dinner?” He narrowed his eyes, a playful smile on his face. “What did you think the reward was, Ms. Amy?” 11 I laughed nervously. “Nothing… Dinner is great. I love dinner.” He pointed a finger at me, about to speak, when someone behind him called out. “Noah?” He turned, surprised. “Mr. Peterson? What are you doing here?” I looked over. It was a man in his sixties, with a friendly face. “Just passing by,” he said, then his eyes fell on me, a mischievous glint in them. “Well, well… when did you get a girlfriend?” Noah glanced at me, and seeing I wasn’t offended, he turned back to the old man. “You’re as nosy as ever, sir. It’s not like that.” Mr. Peterson wasn’t easily fooled. “Not like that? Then why did you just glance at her?” Noah sighed and introduced us. “This is Mr. Peterson. He used to be in our tech department. He just retired.” “Mr. Peterson,” I said politely. He smiled. “Yes, you seem like a nice girl.” Noah scoffed at that. I secretly stepped on his foot and said to Mr. Peterson, “Are you here for dinner too? Would you like to join us?” He waved his hand. “I won’t interrupt you two lovebirds. It’s just…” He hesitated. “I heard about that recent murder case. The crime scene isn’t far from here, is it?” Noah paused, confused. “It is. Why do you ask?” “I heard about it when I was at the station finishing up some paperwork,” he said with a sigh. “And the victim, this Ms. Miller… I knew her.” Noah and I both froze. “You knew her?” He nodded. “Her son was in the same middle school as my daughter. They had a good life, but then…” Then what? That’s the important part! Seeing our eager expressions, he looked surprised. “You don’t know? You didn’t find out during your investigation?” He seemed to realize something. “Right. I heard she took the money and disappeared.” “What happened? Please don’t keep us in suspense!” Noah urged. “Her son was in an accident in his last year of middle school,” he explained. “I think he was hit by a car. The driver paid them a large sum of money to keep it quiet, and after that, she and her husband disappeared.”

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Six years after dying, I returned from the Underworld to settle a massive debt. An orphan with no family, I went straight to my best friend. As I entered her house, text flashed before my eyes: 【The tragic heroine’s having a breakdown—smashing all the male lead’s luxury gifts.】 【Her husband cheats, her son rejects her… she’s been suicidal.】 【Everyone’s too scared to go in… Wait—who just tore the door off its hinges?!】 That was me. I grabbed her wrist as she was about to cut it and exclaimed, “Claire, you know I’m scared of snakes! Except that Bulgari Serpenti on you.” “Hold off on dying—I’ve got Underworld debts to pay.” She stopped crying, dropped the knife, and started chasing me: “You brat! Never visited in dreams, but when in debt, you come to me?!” The comments were stunned: 【Now that’s a friendship that feels like a home invasion…】 1. When I burst into the master bedroom of my best friend Claire’s luxurious mansion, she was in the middle of slitting her wrists. The house staff were just about to rush in and stop her. I beat them to it, grabbing her wrist and flashing her a thumbs-up. “Well, well, well, bestie. Showing off your million-dollar Bulgari Serpenti without me.” Claire stared at me, completely bewildered. The staff crowded in the doorway were aghast. The floating comments filled the air with question marks: 【???】 【Uh, lady, are you seeing what I’m seeing? She’s trying to kill herself and you’re admiring her bracelet…】 【Talk about reading the room.】 Claire looked at me, her eyes swollen to the size of walnuts, glistening with tears. The despair in them was now mixed with utter shock. I remembered her as she used to be: vibrant and beautiful, with a long, curly high ponytail, resilient and full of bright hopes for the future. She used to always say, “Ava, when Murray and I get married, you have to be there.” But looking at her now—her face pale and bloodless, her eyes dull and hopeless, her hair a tangled mess, her silk pajamas wrinkled from being tugged and twisted—it felt like a lifetime had passed. Claire was so thin she was practically a skeleton, as if a single touch would make her fall apart. I had never seen her so broken. A sharp, unexpected pain pierced my heart. Six years. The moment I reappeared before her, she looked like she was about to faint. She just stared at me, her brain trying to catch up. I used her stunned silence to snatch the fruit knife from her hand and get a better look at the bracelet, which glittered blindingly under the lights. “Bestie, you know I’m terrified of snakes.” “But I’ll make an exception for Bulgari.” Staring at my own bare wrist, I was consumed with envy. Shamelessly, I demanded, “You brat! Friends share everything. Take that diamond-encrusted thing off and let me try it on.” The staff gaped at me as if I’d told the world’s worst joke. One of them, unable to stomach my audacity, spoke up. “Who let you in here? Have you no manners? That’s a million-dollar bracelet, you think she’s just going to give it to you? You…” But in the next second, Claire stopped crying. She wiped her tears away messily and, in front of everyone, slipped the bracelet off her wrist and onto mine. Her voice was raspy and low, catching with sobs. “If you’d told me you liked it, I would have bought you one too.” The staff looked at each other, their eyes about to pop out of their sockets. She actually gave it to her? 2. After the staff dispersed, I glanced at the empty doorway, then dragged the door I’d removed back into place to block the opening. Ignoring the absurdity of the situation, I slyly pulled a piece of paper from my pocket. It was an IOU. I presented it to Claire with my most charming, sycophantic smile. “Bestie, guess what fantastic souvenir I brought back for you from my little trip to the Underworld?” Claire’s mood was still heavy, but at least for the moment, the thought of suicide seemed to have vanished. But after she unfolded my IOU for a ludicrously massive sum, she transformed back into the wild woman I knew from our school days. No more staring blankly into space, no more pondering the meaning of life. She snatched up the fruit knife I’d tossed aside and started chasing me. When she screamed my name, her voice was no longer weak. It was loud enough to scare the birds from the trees in the garden. The commotion brought the staff running back, only to find this scene: Claire, wielding a fruit knife, was chasing me all over the room. “Ava, you deadbeat! You don’t visit me in my dreams once, but the second you’re in debt, you come crawling back to me?! Do I owe you something from a past life?! I’m going to kill you! If I can’t be happy, nobody can!” I threw my hands up in surrender, dodging around furniture. “Whoa, whoa! Bestie, calm down! Let me explain…!” The butler, arriving late and having missed the entire prequel, simply took in the chaotic scene, calmly raised his phone, and made a call. “Hello, sir?” “You’re not going to believe this, but… Madam, who could barely walk this morning, is now chasing someone around the room with a knife.” 3. Claire refused to pay my debt. Instead, she mercilessly sentenced me to work it off as a maid in her mansion. Ten thousand dollars an hour. So, I begrudgingly started my new career as a housekeeper. Because her emotional state was so fragile, she would often break things and frequently couldn’t bring herself to eat. One evening, after another untouched dinner was returned to the kitchen, the staff was despondent. The head chef was even starting to question his own culinary skills. I glanced at the floating comments: 【The heroine is on the verge of an eating disorder. This is so sad.】 【Ever since her parents went bankrupt and jumped off a building a few years ago, she’s been all alone. Her husband doesn’t care, her son doesn’t love her… If it were me, I would’ve given up long ago.】 【Well, what can you do? She’s the tragic heroine. Later in the story, the male lead is going to force her to donate a kidney to his mistress. She’ll almost die on the operating table, and then he’ll start his redemption arc! Can’t wait!】 I marched into the kitchen. The vegetables on the cutting board met a furious end under my knife. It was as if I were chopping up a certain cheating scumbag. I made a bowl of noodles and proudly presented it to Claire. She had no appetite. She turned her head away, refusing to eat. Even when I tried to force-feed her, it was no use. “I feel sick just looking at food,” she said flatly. “I can’t eat.” I raised an eyebrow at her, picked up a piece of beef with the chopsticks, and put on my best singsong voice. “Here comes the airplane~” “Ahhh~” Claire’s mouth fell open wider than my fist. … Heh. Women. The comments were hysterical: 【Is this Ava a new character? She’s killing me. She knows exactly how to handle the heroine.】 【Has anyone noticed the heroine is finally gaining some weight back? She’s looking so much healthier, her skin is glowing. Her beauty is making a major comeback! She’s stunning!】 【Ava keeps calling her ‘bestie.’ What’s their relationship? I’ve never even heard of this Ava person before.】 … 4. I stayed by Claire’s side, and her breakdowns became less frequent. During my time in the Underworld, I had learned everything about the last decade of her life. I knew about the nightmares that plagued her every night, the recurring image of her parents’ desperate leap. I knew about the constant humiliation she endured from the mistress her husband, Murray, kept on the side. But Murray chose to ignore it all. He pushed her, broke her, and even forced her to kneel and apologize to his mistress. She had lost herself, a puppet pushed along at every step, devoid of emotion. … Today, I finally pestered Claire into taking a walk in the garden in front of the mansion. The comments sighed with admiration: 【Damn, a best friend’s words are worth more than any man’s. If the male lead had asked her to do this, he would’ve gotten a pillow thrown at his head.】 【Wait, isn’t this the part of the story where her hellion of a son gets brought home by his grandparents?!】 【Ava, you have to keep Claire away from Leo! He can’t stand her. His own mother, and he won’t even acknowledge her.】 … Before the comments could finish, two elegantly dressed elderly people walked into the garden, a young boy in tow. At that moment, Claire and I were squeezed onto a single swing chair, playfully fighting for territory. Claire smiled at me, but for some reason, the sight of it infuriated her son, Leo. Leo, his face puffed up with anger, threw his limited-edition toy car on the ground and stormed over to us, screeching, “Get off! Why are you on my swing?!” He started shoving at Claire’s legs with all his might. The smile on Claire’s face froze. She instinctively clutched my hand, her eyes fixed on her son. “Leo, please don’t…” The comments were a chorus of sorrow: 【Ugh, how can you not love the mother who carried you for ten months? The heroine really wants to be close to her son!】 【He’s just like his father, a total monster!】 【Can someone please deal with this little brat, Leo? He has no respect. I want to jump into this book and spank him senseless!】 I raised an eyebrow at the little pouting fluffball with his hands on his hips. He really did look like his father. Leo snorted arrogantly, certain that Claire would never lay a hand on him. He had a smug “what are you gonna do about it” look on his face. The next second, I let out a cold laugh, grabbed him by the ear, swiftly pulled him onto my lap, and with all my strength, started smacking his little butt. Smack! Smack! In the distance, Leo’s grandparents, who had been watching with cold indifference, suddenly sprang to life. They hobbled over as fast as their canes would carry them. “Who is this lunatic?! How dare you hit my grandson! Let him go! Let him go now!” Leo was howling, his cries growing louder. “Aaaah! Grandma, Grandpa, my butt hurts! She’s hitting me! Save me, please, save me! Waaah!” I didn’t stop. In fact, I hit him harder. Hearing him cry only fueled my righteous fury. “You little monster! If your mother won’t teach you a lesson, then your godmother will!” When I was finally tired, Leo’s grandparents snatched him from my arms and joined in the wailing. “Oh, good heavens! Is the staff in this house deaf?! Security? Where is security?!” The three of them huddled together, bawling. The comments exploded: 【HOLY S#*T, HOLY S#*T, HOLY S#*T! She is my hero! She doesn’t just talk the talk, she walks the walk!】 【Wait a minute, guys. Does anyone else think the heroine looks like she’s about to die of laughter watching her son get spanked? She looks like she’s enjoying this.】 【OMG, she’s smiling! A full-on, no-holds-barred smile! She looks like she’s about to start clapping! LOL!】 The staff came running, armed with knives and spatulas, only to freeze when they saw the old couple pointing at me. Leo, his face red and tear-streaked, stomped his foot in a rage and charged at me, ready to throw a punch. His grandparents surged forward, grabbing at my clothes. Seeing things were getting out of hand, Claire jumped up and held the three of them back. The staff rushed in to break up the fight. The scene devolved into chaos. Just as Leo swung his chubby little fist, before it even came close to me, I dramatically threw myself onto the ground and started wailing. “Oh, the humanity! Is there no justice in this world?! Assault! Assault! Little Leo is a bully! All the kids in your class, don’t play with him! Oh, woe is me~” Leo’s big eyes blinked in confusion. He frantically waved his hands, trying to explain. “You’re lying, you mean lady! I didn’t touch you! I… I didn’t!” When Claire saw me “pushed” to the ground, her usual composure vanished. Her face hardened with anger, and she shoved everyone around her away. No one expected it. The woman who was always so gentle and patient with her child grabbed Leo by the collar, pulled him into her arms, and, copying me, gave his bottom a series of resounding smacks. Leo started howling all over again. His grandparents stared in disbelief, certain Claire had lost her mind. “Claire, you little witch! You’ve gone insane! I’m telling Murray! We’ll see what he has to say about his rebellious wife!” The staff tried to intervene. “Madam, please, let the young master go! The master will be furious if he finds out! Madam…!” Claire ignored them all, her voice ice-cold. “Leo! What has Mommy told you! Are you allowed to hit people?! What do you have to say for yourself now?!” Leo was completely stunned. He sobbed and begged for mercy. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I was wrong… I was wrong! Stop hitting me! Waaah…” At this point, the staff stopped trying to intervene. The grandparents stopped wailing. They all just stood there, watching Claire discipline her child. “Who are you sorry to?! Speak!” I leaned in and whispered in Leo’s ear, “It’s Godmother.” Leo struggled violently. Seeing my smug expression, his face turned beet red, snot and tears flying everywhere. “I’m not calling that mean lady Godmother! I won’t! Waaah…” Claire raised her hand again. Leo surrendered. He stopped crying and put on a cheerful smile. “I’m sorry, Godmother, I was wrong.” I nodded, satisfied. The comments were a chaotic mess of celebratory fireworks: 【Whoa! Did I see that right?! Before, whenever the heroine tried to discipline this brat, he never listened and just kept hurting her until she gave up on him. Ava comes in with one simple trick and gets her right back in the parenting game!】 【I have never seen the heroine this angry! Not even when the male lead flaunted his mistress in front of her. But Ava gets a little “push”…】 【This is so satisfying! Following you is like watching a boss-bitch power fantasy! I will follow you forever, Queen Ava!】 【Claire: You touch my bestie, I destroy your world (son included).】 Leo’s grandparents looked like they were about to have a stroke. They immediately dialed Murray’s number. “You need to get back here right now! Your wife and her accomplice are starting a rebellion!” 5. Murray and his little mistress, Stella, took the earliest flight back—a full ten-hour journey that must have made their butts ache. Serves you right, you scumbag. When they arrived home, the living room was in utter chaos. The comments were worried: 【Oh no! The heroine didn’t just hit her son, she kicked his parents a few times in the chaos. And her grandfather’s medical treatment depends on the male lead’s connections!】 【The thought of his parents waiting up all night without showering just to preserve the footprint evidence on their clothes for the confrontation is making me laugh so hard.】 【The mistress came back with him. The male lead must have done that on purpose, right?】 … I watched Murray’s constipated expression and had to hold back a laugh. Stella was the first to speak, her voice a whiny complaint. “Claire, what is all this? Murray and I were having such a wonderful vacation. Since when did you have the guts to pull a stunt like this? You just wanted Murray to come back, didn’t you? Tsk.” Her words fanned the flames of Murray’s anger. He lifted his gaze to Claire, but then he froze. Claire was no longer painfully thin. She looked healthy, well-fed, and… happy. He was suddenly reminded of how she had been the famous campus beauty back in their university days. And that made him even angrier. In his absence, Claire seemed to be thriving. “Claire, what kind of game are you playing now? I’ve told you before, if you cause trouble, your grandfather suffers the consequences.” His cold voice was a knife to Claire’s heart. She tensed, instinctively trying to defend herself. “I didn’t! I…” I cut in. “Someone’s breath really stinks. Murray, did you rush over here without brushing your teeth?” My interruption threw him off. Only then did he seem to notice there was an extra person in the room. His mother pointed at me. “It was her! She’s the one who led your wife to rebel!” I smiled sweetly up at him. When he saw my face, he went rigid. “You…?! Ava?! But you’re supposed to be…?!” Dead? He didn’t say the last word. When the news of my death had reached Claire, she had been devastated. Pregnant at the time, she had insisted on attending my funeral. But Murray’s mother had stopped her, claiming it was bad luck for the baby. She had begged and pleaded with Murray to let her see me one last time, but Murray, convinced that she was using it as an excuse to secretly get an abortion because of their recent fights over his affair, had refused to let her go. In the end, Claire had nearly fallen from their fifth-floor balcony, threatening to kill herself, just to get him to accompany her to see me one last time. He had definitely seen my picture at the funeral hall back then. 6. The standoff was broken by Stella’s cheerful voice. “Hmm? Why hasn’t Leo called me ‘Mommy’ today?” At the mention of his name, Leo perked up and excitedly ran into Murray and Stella’s arms. He was about to speak when he noticed Claire and me watching him. Me, in particular. I made a slow, deliberate motion of scratching my neck. Leo shuddered, clamped his mouth shut, and burrowed into Murray’s embrace. Seeing me standing there, a thorn in his side, Murray’s expression turned nauseated. He swallowed his rage and pointed at the door. “I don’t care if you’re a person or a ghost. Get out of my house now!” Claire suddenly stood up from the sofa, moved to stand in front of me, her back straight as a rod, her eyes sharp. “Murray, this is my house. You’re the one who needs to get out!” The comments, watching this, were crystal clear: 【The male lead is pure scum. This house was left to the heroine by her parents. His parents just waltzing in whenever they want is bad enough, but since when did it become his house?】 【Not only that, but he deliberately brings his mistress into the home her parents lived in just to torture her. Can we get a new male lead?】 【The heroine doesn’t even know yet that the brilliant surgeon who saved her grandfather’s life didn’t do it as a favor to the male lead at all. The male lead has been hiding the truth just to keep her from leaving him, right?】 【Wait, now that Ava’s here, it’s finally clicking. Didn’t that surgeon do it all because he had a high school crush on someone?! And wasn’t that crush… Ava, who was best friends with the heroine?!】 【HOLY S#*T HOLY S#*T HOLY S#*T! I’m shook! I think that’s it!】 Wait, what?! Me?! Someone had a crush on me?! Why are you all telling me this after I died?! … Oh, wait. I guess you did tell me after I died…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “394279”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

A strange girl showed up, claiming she could wake him with her “chatterbox therapy.” I didn’t believe her. Not until a stream of comments flickered into view before my eyes: 【Here comes the talkative female lead! The comatose male lead is about to wake up!】 【She’s going to use a barrage of shameless, cringe-worthy lines to make him curl his toes in his coma until he just can’t take it anymore and has to wake up, LOL.】 【And after he wakes up, they’ll start their super sweet romance. Happy ending, here we come!】 【So, the side character sister needs to step aside for the female lead. Your daily chitchat is useless. This is a job for the pro!】 And my brother did wake up, just like they said. But the first thing he did when he was back… Was to make me break up with my new boyfriend. 1 It was the weekend, so I went to the hospital, same as always. I was there to talk to Daniel, to turn him over in his bed. Every two hours, like clockwork. Left side, on his back, right side. A constant, gentle rotation. That’s when Martha arrived. My parents brought her into the room, telling me she had a way to wake Daniel. She reached out to me without a hint of shyness, as if we were old friends. “Hi there! I’m Martha. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Hope we get along!” Her voice was bright and cheerful, like a newborn canary. I didn’t answer right away. I understood why Mom and Dad were so desperate. Daniel had been in a coma for two months. People were starting to whisper that if someone doesn’t wake up after three, they might never wake up at all. But trusting a complete stranger with him… did that feel right? Just as I was about to voice my doubts, a line of text materialized in the air before me. 【Here comes the talkative female lead! The comatose male lead is about to wake up!】 【She’s going to use a barrage of shameless, cringe-worthy lines to make him curl his toes in his coma until he just can’t take it anymore and has to wake up, LOL.】 【And after he wakes up, they’ll start their super sweet romance. Happy ending, here we come!】 【So, the side character sister needs to step aside for the female lead. Your daily chitchat is useless. This is a job for the pro!】 I stared at the strange words, my mind reeling. Female lead? Male lead? What did that even mean? I must have been frozen for a while, because my mom gently tapped my arm. “Lily?” I snapped back to reality and politely responded to Martha. “Hi, I’m Lily. Please, take care of my brother.” With that, I stepped back to stand with my parents, waiting to see what Martha would do. She, however, ran a hand through her hair, a bashful look on her face. “Sorry, but would you mind waiting outside? I can’t really… get in the zone with an audience.” And so, the three of us found ourselves standing in the hallway. 2 Mom and Dad were a nervous wreck, completely in the dark about her methods. I, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening, thanks to the floating comments. 【LMAO, she just told him she’s a stalker who’s been secretly watching him for ages. And now that he’s helpless, she can finally do whatever she wants.】 【She said she’s going to take the opportunity to admire his perfect feet while he’s out cold. I’m dying.】 【“If you don’t wake up, I’m posting the nude photos I took of you on a gay dating site and you’ll have men lining up for you!” Hahaha, this isn’t therapy, it’s blackmail!】 【Wake up, man! This adorable girl is right in front of you!】 Could these… words… really work? I had my doubts. According to the comments, the world I was living in was a novel. Daniel was the male lead, and Martha was the female lead. His coma was just a necessary plot device to bring them together. He would eventually wake up and they would begin their sweet love story. As for me? I was just a side character. A supporting role. The girl with a one-sided crush on her adoptive brother, a small obstacle in the path of their love. A pang of sadness hit me. But if the comments were right, if Daniel was guaranteed to wake up, then I was also incredibly happy. As long as he was healthy and whole, that’s all that mattered. Half an hour later, Martha emerged from the room. She looked a little drained, her voice slightly hoarse. “That’s all for today. I’ll be back tomorrow.” I nodded, handing her a bottle of water I’d bought earlier. “Thank you for your hard work. See you tomorrow.” Martha looked surprised for a second, then thanked me and left. My parents and I went back into the room. While they massaged Daniel’s limbs, I sat by his bed and worked on my differential equations homework, reading the problems aloud. “y” – 3y’tan(x) – 2y = 0…” “…Brother, I think I messed this one up again. When are you going to teach me that other method you mentioned?” 3 The comments went wild. 【Holy calculus, what have I gotten myself into?】 【Can’t even escape math while reading a novel. I give up.】 【Honey, are you sure reading that stuff out loud isn’t going to put your brother into an even deeper coma?】 【LOL I’m dead. But wait, what’s up with the sister? Why was she so nice to the female lead just now? Shouldn’t she be jealous?】 【That’s how a normal family member would act, right? If someone says they can help, you treat them like a queen!】 【Yeah, but she’s not exactly a normal family member, is she? She’s in love with her brother! Eww, as someone with a brother, I can’t even.】 【They’re not blood-related… Let’s not mix things up. Don’t you dare slander our stepsibling ship.】 … They started arguing about math and the morality of shipping non-related siblings. I ignored them and kept working on my problems, glancing at Daniel from time to time. He lay there on the bed, so quiet, as if he were just sleeping. His eyelashes were long and thick, casting dark shadows beneath his eyes. When we were little, I was so jealous of how much prettier his lashes were than mine. I used to sneak into his room while he was asleep and try to pluck them. He always caught me, every single time. But I hadn’t crawled into his bed since that one night in my first year of high school. I’d been reading a horror novel about tomb raiders and was completely spooked, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. So, I tiptoed into Daniel’s room, curled into a ball, and burrowed into his arms. “Brother, can I sleep with you tonight?” He must have still been awake, because he jumped. Then, he immediately pushed me away. “Get out.” I ignored him, pressing closer. “Please, brother? I’m so scared a boogeyman is going to grab my feet…” His tone suddenly became harsh, severe. He used my full name. “Lily, get out.” I froze, looking up at him. His face was cold, impassive. He wasn’t joking. I tried again, my voice small. “But… we used to sleep together all the time when we were little…” He shoved me off the bed, leaving no room for argument. “That was then. It’s different now. You are never to get in my bed again.” “Oh.” I was hurt and angry. I gave him the silent treatment for weeks after that. Thinking back now, he was right. We weren’t little kids anymore. He needed to create distance between us. And he was right to do so. Suddenly, my phone rang, shattering my thoughts. I glanced at the screen. The name ‘Lucas’ flashed. And I remembered. I had plans today. 4 I answered the call. Lucas’s slightly disappointed voice came through the phone. “Hey, are you busy? I texted but you didn’t reply, so I figured I’d call.” “Everyone’s at the children’s home already. We’re just waiting on you.” I put him on speaker, apologizing as I gathered my things. “I’m so sorry, something came up. I’m on my way now, I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.” His voice immediately brightened. “Okay, I’ll wait for you.” After I hung up, my mom asked with concern, “Do you have to go somewhere?” I nodded, stuffing my notebook into my bag. “Yeah, it’s a volunteer event with the university society. I’ll come right back after.” My dad ruffled my hair. “Your mom and I are here with your brother, don’t worry. You need to live your life, Lily. You can’t put everything on hold for the hospital.” I hesitated for a moment, then nodded and left. Now that I knew Daniel was going to wake up, the constant, crushing anxiety had eased a little. As I walked out of the room, a few more comments popped into view. 【WTF, did his eyelashes just flutter? Did anyone else see that?】 【I saw it, I saw it! Our girl is a miracle worker! First day and already getting results! She’s the GOAT of chatterbox therapy!】 My heart sank a little. It was a strange mix of joy and disappointment. Joy, because the comments were right. Daniel was reacting. He was going to wake up soon. Disappointment, because it meant that only Martha’s efforts truly mattered. There was just no fate between Daniel and me. 5 I spent the afternoon volunteering at the children’s home. I helped the kids with their lessons, played games with them, and sat with them for counseling sessions. It was the same home where Daniel and I had lived. We were both orphans. The year he was seven and I was four, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes came to the home, looking to adopt a boy and a girl. They chose the smart, brave Daniel first. As for me… no one ever wanted a timid, shy little thing like me. But Daniel pulled me out from where I was hiding behind the director’s legs. He gathered all his courage and presented me to Mr. and Mrs. Hayes. “She’s a really good girl. She always wipes the table after she eats, and she’s very quiet when she sleeps.” “Mom! Dad! I’ll vouch for her with every single one of my future report cards!” And after that, Daniel was always first in his class. … In the present, Lucas was waving a hand in front of my face. “Lily? Time to go.” I snapped out of my reverie and nodded, getting up to leave. “Want to grab dinner together?” he asked suddenly. I shook my head. “I can’t, I have something to do.” Lucas hesitated. “Are you going to the hospital to see your brother?” I was a little surprised he knew. He explained apologetically, “I overheard you talking to the director earlier. Sorry.” Since he knew, I just nodded. But I wasn’t expecting him to suggest visiting Daniel himself. “Your brother is a legend at our university, a top graduate. I’d like to pay my respects to a senior alumnus.” I thought about it and agreed. Maybe a visit from a stranger could help a little. Even with Martha’s therapy, every little bit of effort might bring Daniel back a day sooner. So, I took Lucas to the hospital. 6 In the hospital room, Daniel was still sleeping peacefully. Mom and Dad were delighted to see Lucas and chatted with him for a long time. Even after he left, they were still grilling me. “Lily, you two seem quite close, don’t you?” I was massaging Daniel’s arm, my mind elsewhere. “We’re okay, I guess. He’s a senior, one year ahead of me. He helps me out a lot with school.” Dad was looking at me thoughtfully. “I think that boy has a thing for you. Peeling your apples, buying you milk… he’s working hard to impress you.” My hand stilled. All my energy lately had been focused on Daniel; I hadn’t noticed a thing. I stopped massaging and asked seriously, “Really? Is it that obvious?” Mom smiled. “It is. But our Lily is such an amazing girl, it’s only normal for boys to like her. And he seems like a nice kid. But what matters is if you like him.” If I like him… I lowered my eyes, stealing a glance at Daniel. Being in love with your own brother… people would think that’s disgusting, wouldn’t they? Dad picked up the thread. “You’re a sophomore now. It’s a good time to start dating. Just don’t keep it a secret from us, okay?” I nodded, my voice soft. “I know. I’ll definitely tell you.” The comments suddenly flared to life. 【OMG, did his eyeballs just move under his lids? What’s going on? Does the female lead’s therapy have a delayed effect?】 【At this rate, he’ll be awake in a few days! Yesss, I’m ready for the romance!】 【The side character should just get with the senior already. Stop pining for your brother. The stepsibling trope is a dead end here.】 I ignored that last comment, my eyes fixed on Daniel’s. They were definitely moving. I excitedly called Mom and Dad over to look. They were so moved they nearly cried, vowing to repay Martha handsomely. I would too. I made a silent promise to myself. If she could really wake Daniel, I would wish them nothing but happiness. And now… it was time to clear out all my memories of him. 7 That night, I took out the box where I kept all my treasures related to Daniel. Birthday gifts he’d given me, paper airplanes he’d folded, tokens from the claw machines we’d played… Among all the neatly kept items, one wrinkled, crumpled piece of scratch paper stood out. It was covered in Daniel’s familiar handwriting. First, there were his notes and steps for solving a high school math problem. Then, suddenly, the writing changed. 【How many solution methods is that now? Who cares. The more the better. It means I get to spend more time with her.】 【Otherwise, she’ll just run off to watch her TV shows.】 In high school, I was obsessed with TV, especially those cheesy teen romance dramas. Daniel would always boast shamelessly. “What’s so good about this? Is this guy even half as handsome as your brother?” He was handsome. He was the star of our school—smart, popular, top of his class. But he wasn’t mine. My heart felt like it was being pricked by a thousand tiny needles, a dull, sour ache spreading through my chest. I pulled myself out of the memory and kept reading. 【When she watches the main couple kiss on screen… does her heart flutter too?】 【Does she imagine someone loving her like that?】 【Could… could that person be me?】 【I want to kiss her so badly】 The last two lines were violently scratched out. Below them, still in Daniel’s handwriting but pressed so hard the lead nearly tore the paper, were three words. 【Daniel, you’re insane.】 【You are her brother.】 The air left my lungs. A wave of pure shock washed over me, so powerful it felt physical. The hand holding the paper began to tremble uncontrollably. The words blurred on the page, the ink seeming to bleed together until it reformed into a single, undeniable truth— Daniel loved me, too. 8 So that was it. All this time, Daniel had been just like me. Tossing and turning through countless nights, wrestling with a guilt that felt like sinking in mud. The comments were in an uproar over this. 【!!! The male lead is actually in love with the sister?? WTF, I want a refund!】 【Hold on, hold on, this was from like three or four years ago. Maybe he’s over it now.】 【Uh… whether he’s over it or not, it’s still gross. They grew up together as brother and sister. How could he have those kinds of thoughts about her?】 【What’s wrong with it? They’re not related by blood! Brothers are born to become brothers-in-law! I’m shipping the male lead and the side character!】 【I have nothing to say to you people who don’t get the stepsibling trope.】 【User ‘ForbiddenFruitLover’ has renewed their annual membership X10! Congratulations! You’ve unlocked a hidden bonus scene!】 【All hail the master shipper!】 【Are you guys all perverts? I’m rooting for my girl Martha!】 … Could the comments be right? Was it possible Daniel only used to have feelings for me? Or did he still love me now? But if he did… what about Martha? What about the story? Would the plot unfold as the comments had predicted? That night, I barely slept a wink. By dawn, I had made my decision. It was time to make a move. 9 The next day, my parents had errands to run, so I went to the hospital alone. Daniel was lying there peacefully, still showing no signs of waking. I went through our usual routine—wiping his face, turning his body. Finally, I sat by his bed and started talking, filling the quiet room with the mundane details of my life. “Brother, I met a senior from school. You know, the one who came to visit yesterday.” “He walks me to the library sometimes. He brings me bubble tea.” “Since you’ve been in the hospital, I’ve been going to him with all my school questions. He even helped me with that equation yesterday.” “He’s really smart, too. Just as smart as you.” “Last night, when we were saying goodbye… he told me he had feelings for me.” “Brother… do you think I should say yes?” After I finished, I watched him, searching his still face for any sign, any flicker of a reaction. But before long, the door creaked open. Martha peeked her head in. “Good morning!” I stood up to greet her. “Thanks so much for coming again.” She waved her hand dismissively as she walked in. “Hey, don’t mention it. Your mom told me he was reacting yesterday? Looks like my treatment is working wonders.” She came closer, leaning in conspiratorially. “Today, I’m planning to use some stronger medicine. He might even wake up by tomorrow!” I couldn’t help but ask, “What kind of medicine?” Martha just shook her head, gently pushing me toward the door. “Can’t say. Spoilers! Just wait for the results!” I was skeptical, but I left the room again. I stood outside the door once more. I never imagined that Martha’s “stronger medicine” would involve physical contact.

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I spiraled into a deep depression after my cat of five years passed away. Then, two months later, I received a friend request on Instagram. “Mom, send money.” “I met this gorgeous calico up here in heaven. Been chasing her for ages, but she’s playing hard to get.” “Burn me some more of those chicken and salmon pâté cans and some freeze-dried treats. She loves those.” “Love, your cat.” 1 When I first saw the message, I thought it was a hallucination brought on by grief. My cat had been gone for two months. How could a cat, of all things, use a phone, let alone add me as a friend on Instagram and send me a message? But for some reason, after a moment of hesitation, I accepted the request. Maybe I wanted to see who this person impersonating my cat was, and what they wanted. Or maybe it was for the tiny sliver of hope flickering in my own heart. The profile picture was a blur of white. I had to squint to realize it was a close-up shot of a white cat, its eyes narrowed to slits. The fur was matted and dull. It was, frankly, hideous. I shook my head. Definitely not my cat. Before I could even back out of the profile, a flood of messages came pouring in. “Mom, why aren’t you saying anything?” “Mom, I learned how to take selfies! I made it my profile picture. Do I look good?” “Mom, it’s me! It’s Jasper!” I frowned. Scammers were getting more and more sophisticated these days. They even knew my cat’s name. “Mom, don’t you recognize me?” “It’s really me! I can prove it!” “I saved you from drowning!” “And when your scent started to fade, I helped you re-mark everything!” I paused. Those things… did happen. Sort of. “Drowning” was me taking a bath. Jasper had been wailing outside the door, and in a fit of panic, he’d launched himself into the tub, then immediately freaked out and scrambled onto my neck for safety, leaving three permanent scars. And as for “re-marking” my scent… I gritted my teeth and typed. “You peed on my brand-new sheets and you have the audacity to bring that up?” Silence for a few seconds. Then, another close-up cat selfie. “Don’t be mad, Mom. Look at my new picture.” The more I looked, the angrier I got, and the angrier I got, the more I wanted to cry. I ended up clutching my phone, sobbing uncontrollably. “Is it really you, Jasper? Is it really you?” This time, instead of a text, he sent a voice message. A string of familiar meows filled the air. That only made me cry harder. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.” He typed back. “You’re a silly goose, Mom.” “I said, ‘Don’t cry, Mom. I’m always here.’” 2 I looked at Jasper’s pictures over and over again. His once-soft, pristine white fur was now matted and tangled. His round belly was sunken, and one of his beautiful, mismatched eyes was swollen shut. After I asked him what happened several times, he finally, reluctantly, answered. “I got bullied.” “They don’t like me ’cause I’m a white cat. They won’t let me eat, and they steal the crunchy birds and little treats you burn for me!” “It makes me so mad!!” “That’s my stuff from my mom!” My heart ached. “How could there be such mean cats?” Jasper sent a smug-faced emoji. “Don’t worry, Mom. I fought back.” “And Rosie licked my wounds for me.” He followed it up with a dreamy-eyed emoji. “Rosie is the sweetest, most beautiful girl cat in the entire world!” That’s when I remembered the original friend request. “Jasper, how are you even able to use Instagram? And is Rosie the little calico you like?” He sent a nodding emoji. “Yep! I’m trying to win her over!” “I joined the Cat Crew recently. We do volunteer work in heaven.” “Animals who do a good job get a special phone to talk to their parents!” “I missed you so much, Mom. I had to save up a lot of points to be able to talk to you.” He sent a sad-cat emoji. I couldn’t help it; my eyes welled up again. Jasper was the laziest cat I knew. If he could lie down, he wouldn’t sit. If he could sit, he wouldn’t stand. I couldn’t imagine how much effort he must have put in just to talk to me. As if he could read my mind, he sent a three-second video. Another close-up selfie. In the video, he meowed twice and then gently patted the camera lens with his paw. He didn’t type anything this time, but I knew what he was saying. He was saying, “Don’t cry, Mom.” 3 Jasper continued typing. “I have another surprise for you!” “I helped one of the old ladies in heaven catch her chirpy bird, and I got a reward!” I praised him out of habit, then remembered to ask what the reward was. But he was being mysterious. “I’m not telling!” “Go to bed early tonight! You’ll find out when you’re asleep!” “My phone time is almost up! I have to go.” I quickly sent a few messages asking for more details, but they all came back with a red exclamation mark. I tried a dozen more times. Same result. I stared at my phone, stunned. It had all happened so fast. Was this a hallucination? Maybe I’d forgotten to take my medication again. But what if it was real? What if I could really see Jasper again? My eyes drifted to the pill bottle by the bathtub. I stood up, twisted off the cap, and swallowed a few pills before lying down on the sofa. For a long time after Jasper died, I hadn’t been able to sleep. I would only pass out from sheer exhaustion, and even then, my dreams were filled with images of him in his final moments. I had grown to fear sleep. But this time was different. As I lay on the sofa, feeling the drowsiness creep over me, I felt a flicker of anticipation. 4 When I opened my eyes again, it was dark outside. I was still on the sofa. Nothing had changed. It felt as if the whole thing had been a bizarre dream. I sat up and stared blankly at the coffee table in front of me. And then, I heard a familiar meow from beside the sofa. I whipped my head around. A white cat with one swollen, mismatched eye leaped onto the sofa, its tail held high, and wiggled its way into my lap. I gasped, reaching out a trembling hand to stroke his head. “Jasper?!” The white cat purred, then rolled onto his back, exposing his belly. “It’s me, it’s me!” “I missed you.” “Did you miss me, Mom?” I scooped him up and hugged him tight. “I missed you, I missed you so much, my baby, my sweet boy, I missed you so, so much!” Jasper let out a little meow and pushed his paws against my forehead. “Mom! I can’t breathe!” Feeling his familiar warmth and softness in my arms, I started to cry again. He lifted a paw and gently wiped my face. “Aren’t you curious how we can see each other?” “This is the reward I was talking about!” “The old lady in heaven rewarded me with one visit to your dreams. I had to fight really hard for this chance!” I kissed his little paw. “Jasper is the bravest kitty.” But at that, his face fell, and he slumped onto my lap. His voice was small and sad. “I also made an enemy of Scar.” “He was already bullying me.” “And this time, I snatched this mission right out from under his nose. He threatened to beat me to a pulp when I get back.” My eyes widened. There was bullying in heaven? That wouldn’t do. Jasper, being a white cat, was already an easy target. And “Scar” sounded like a tough customer. What if Jasper got hurt? “What can we do? Is there anything I can do? Should I go to the temple and ask one of the gods to look out for you?” Jasper shook his head. “We’re animals. Humans can’t interfere with our affairs.” Then, an idea seemed to strike him. He looked up at me, his eyes shining. “I’ve got it!” “Scar is terrified of July. If you help July with something, he’ll protect me!” I nodded seriously. I would do anything to keep Jasper safe. “That’s a great idea! But who is July? And what does he need help with?” Jasper leaped onto the coffee table and panted, his tongue lolling out. “July is a husky! He looks like this!” I couldn’t help but laugh. “He looks so goofy.” “So what’s his wish?” Jasper licked his paw and then pulled out a picture of a bone from behind his back. “July lived with his grandparents. He was worried they would miss him after he passed away, so he buried his favorite big bone by the front door.” “His wish is for you to find the bone and throw it through his grandparents’ window.” I looked at the picture and nodded. That didn’t sound too hard. “Oh, and July said his grandparents live on the seventh floor,” Jasper added, still licking his paw. I froze, then slowly looked up. “What did you say?” Throw a bone from the ground up to a seventh-floor window? Jasper just looked at me and nodded, his expression full of unwavering confidence. “That’s right.” “I believe in you, Mom! My life is in your hands!” 5 Standing in front of the apartment building, staring at the goofy-looking husky sitting serenely in front of me, I felt a profound sense of despair. To make this whole thing easier, Jasper had made a deal with the old lady in heaven. He’d catch mice for her for a month, and in return, she’d given me a potion that would allow me to hear the spirits of animals for a short time. At this moment, however, I deeply regretted drinking it. “Where did you say you buried the bone?” I asked. July trotted in a few circles, then plopped down on the asphalt curb. “I remember burying it right here! Why is it gone?” He suddenly looked up, his small, blue eyes fixing on me. “Did you steal it?” I was speechless. “I got here at the same time you did! When would I have had time to steal it? And why would I steal a bone?” But he wasn’t listening. He lowered his head and prepared to charge. Even though I knew a ghost couldn’t touch me, I still took a step back from the sheer madness in his eyes. Just then, he froze, his gaze fixed on something behind me. His tail started wagging furiously. I turned around and saw an elderly woman carrying a basket of groceries walking toward the building. July looked like he was about to explode with joy. “Is that your owner?” I asked. He nodded vigorously. “Grandma!” I looked from the ecstatic husky to the approaching woman. This was probably a better bet than relying on the husky’s memory. My heart pounded as I approached her. “I can see your dead pet” was not exactly a great opening line. But with July’s hopeful eyes boring into my back, I pulled down my sleeves to cover the old scars on my wrists and took a deep breath. “Excuse me, ma’am,” I began. “Did you, by any chance, have a pet named July?” She looked at me, confused, but she answered. “Yes, I did. But he passed away. How did you know?” Seeing July’s tail now spinning like a helicopter propeller, I pushed on. “He… he came to me in a dream. He said he buried a bone for you by the front door and wanted me to give it to you.” The woman’s expression froze. After a long moment, she pulled out her phone and showed me a picture. “You don’t mean this toy bone, do you?” she asked, her voice filled with disbelief. “It was his favorite. I found it under the doormat outside.” A slow smile spread across her face. “He came to you in a dream to find his bone? He always was a forgetful boy. Silly dog.” She gazed at the photo with such love, it was as if she could see the goofy husky right through the screen. Finally, she looked up at me. “Would you… would you like to come up and see him?” I glanced at the grinning, panting dog behind her and nodded. 6 The grandmother lived on the seventh floor. The doormat had a giant picture of a dog’s face on it. “I had this made after he passed,” she explained as she unlocked the door. “I just miss him so much.” I helped her with her groceries, and July squeezed through the door behind us. The apartment was filled with pet supplies. At first, I thought she had other pets, but then I saw July excitedly pounce on a toy ball. “Mine! All mine!” The grandmother brought me a cup of tea and then showed me July’s toy bone. “This was his favorite,” she said, stroking it fondly. “He’d been chewing on it since he was a puppy.” “Grandma,” I asked gently, “doesn’t it make you sad, having all of his things around?” She nodded, then shook her head. “July was a rescue. I found him in a dumpster. He was so sick, no one thought he would make it. But he did. He lived for many happy years.” “When I took him in, I knew I would have to say goodbye to him someday. So, while he was alive, I spoiled him rotten. That way, when he was gone, I wouldn’t have any regrets.” “Seeing his toys… it used to make me sad. But now, it just reminds me of all the happy times we had. You have to move forward. I know that if July were here, he wouldn’t want me to be sad.” As soon as she said that, July leaped forward in a frenzy. I instinctively moved to block him, forgetting for a moment that he was a ghost. The grandmother stared at me, then her eyes widened in understanding. “He’s here, isn’t he? July is here.” I looked at the husky, who was ecstatically licking and nuzzling his owner, and nodded. Tears welled up in her eyes. “July… how is he? What is he doing? Is he eating well? Is anyone bullying him?” I took her hand. “He’s doing very well,” I said softly. “He’s right here next to you. And he misses you very much.” She covered her eyes. “I miss him too.” … When I left, July was still overjoyed, letting out happy little yips. I walked him to the curb to wait for the spirit shuttle. Before he left, he rubbed against my leg. “I’m so glad Grandma isn’t sad anymore,” he said. “Thank you.”

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After the car crash, I woke up somewhere else. The ridiculous part? I’d been picked up by a dragon. And he was keeping me as a pet. The Dragon: “Shake.” I lifted my left paw. “The right one.” I lifted my right paw. “Sit.” “Spin.” “Roll over.” Me: The hell with this! I’m done playing games! 1 The world I’d woken up in was like my own, only scaled up a hundred times over. To the dragon, I was tiny, no bigger than his palm, like a chipmunk to a human. Right now, he was placing a baked sweet potato—a sweet potato that was taller and wider than I was—into the little nest he’d just made for me out of a cardboard box. The dragon had crimson eyes with vertical, cat-like pupils. His body was covered in deep black scales, and when he opened his mouth even slightly, I could see the glint of razor-sharp fangs. When we first met, he’d dispatched two rats that were trying to drag me into their hole with a single swipe of his claws. He looked ferocious, brimming with a savage energy, but now he was just gazing at me eagerly, his ears adorably drooped. I guessed he wanted me to accept his offering. Alright, fine. Seeing as he saved my life and I was so hungry my stomach was practically glued to my spine, I decided to give the giant sweet potato a try. Other than its absurd size, it looked just like any other sweet potato. Steam was still rising from its orange flesh. I reached out a tentative finger to touch it. Hiss! It was scalding hot! I snatched my hand back with a yelp. The dragon tilted his head, blinking his huge eyes at me as if to ask, You don’t like it? He gently stroked my head with one of his massive fingers. A series of deep, guttural sounds rumbled from his chest. “Grrr-oof… whoosh… whoosh…” Me: “?” Forgive me, but I don’t speak Dragon. The dragon fell silent for a moment, then his eyes lit up with sudden understanding. He puckered his big dragon lips and blew a stream of air at the sweet potato. The force of his breath was so strong it knocked me flat on my butt, sending my hair whipping around my face. I was pretty sure my hairline receded a bit. He pinched the back of my collar between his thumb and forefinger and lifted me to my feet. Then, he produced a small spoon, scooped out a piece of the sweet potato, and held it out to me. I took a bite right from the spoon. It was sweet, not much different from the ones back home. “Rrrrrumble…” A strange purring sound came from above me. I looked up to see the dragon’s eyes curved into two happy crescents. He was smiling. In the next second, a cold, robotic voice exploded in my mind. [Ding! Kael’s Affection +1.] [Host, please continue your efforts. When the target’s Affection reaches its maximum value, a hidden quest will be triggered. Completion of the hidden quest will allow the Host to return to their original world and grant one wish.] I froze for a second before my brain caught up. A system? I had a system? A spark of joy ignited in my chest. There was a way home! But wait… who was Kael? This dragon? As I was pondering this, the dragon scooped up another piece of sweet potato and offered it to me. To test my theory, I obediently ate it, then snuggled up and rubbed my cheek against his rough, scaly claw. His claw twitched slightly. And just as I’d hoped, the voice returned. [Ding! Kael’s Affection +2.] Yes! This dragon was my target, and from the looks of it, he was a total sweetheart. This was going to be a piece of cake! For the rest of the night, I put on my best performance as a cute, cuddly pet, showering him with affection. It worked like a charm. By the time I fell asleep in my little box-nest, Kael’s affection level was already at twenty. The next morning, I was woken by the sound of Kael moving around. I was still half-asleep when I felt a finger poke my head. “Awake, little one?” I nodded instinctively. “Mmm-hmm.” Then I froze. Who was talking to me? All sleepiness vanished. I shot upright and found myself staring at a lean, handsome face. The early morning sun cast a golden glow on the young man’s black hair. He was tall and slender, with a thin scar cutting through the tail of his eyebrow. His crimson eyes were strikingly familiar. Looking up, I saw two small dragon horns peeking out from his hair. The tip of the left one was slightly chipped. Just like the dragon’s. My heart skipped a beat. This had to be him. This was the dragon who had saved me. 2 I stared at Kael, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a faint smile. “Hungry?” he asked, his voice a deep, smooth rumble that sent a pleasant shiver down my spine as he packed his textbooks into a bag. “Baby birds chirp and open their beaks wide when they’re hungry, waiting for their mother to feed them,” he continued, a hint of amusement in his tone. “You look just like that right now.” He pulled open a drawer and took out a small, ornate tin box. Inside was a neat row of teddy bear-shaped cookies. He picked one out and placed it in my arms. “Can you eat this?” “Yes,” I said. But from the look on his face, it was clear he hadn’t understood a word. Just then, the system’s voice chimed in my head. [Host, Kael cannot understand you yet. Your ability to understand him is a reward for raising his Affection to 20 last night. You now have three options.] A menu materialized in front of me. Please select the sound you wish Kael to hear: A. Squeak Squeak B. Meow Meow C. Chirp Chirp Me: … I chose ‘A’. Then, under Kael’s expectant gaze, I took a big bite out of the cookie’s ear and let out a happy squeak to show my approval. To him, it must have sounded like: Squeak, squeak! [System: Keep up the good work, Host! Raising his Affection will unlock more vocalizations!] Me: … Like I need that. Kael seemed pleased. He smiled, told me to be a good girl and watch the house, and slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to leave. Wait, if he leaves, how am I supposed to raise his affection? And in this giant world, what if another rat—or a cat—shows up? I’d be eaten in a heartbeat! I started jumping up and down, squeaking frantically. “Squeak! Squeak-squeak!” (Don’t go! Don’t go!) Kael stopped and turned around. “What is it?” I quickly stretched my arms out in a “pick me up” gesture. He let out a soft, resigned sigh. As he walked back to the desk and held out his hand, I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms tightly around his thumb. “Squeak-squeak-squeak!” (Take me with you!) “You want to come?” I nodded furiously, gazing up at him with the biggest, most pleading eyes I could manage. He rubbed my head with his thumb. “I swear, I don’t know what to do with you.” With that, he carefully cupped me in his hand and tucked me into his front shirt pocket. It was warm and snug, right next to his heart. I could feel its strong, steady rhythm against my ear and the solid muscle of his chest beneath the thin fabric. This dragon was definitely in good shape. I couldn’t resist snuggling closer, nuzzling against him. “Happy now?” he murmured. In response, I gave his pectoral muscle a little pat. “Silly thing,” he said, his voice laced with affection. Me: … I guess that’s the dragon equivalent of calling a dog a “goofball”? It turned out Kael was heading to school. So, even dragons couldn’t escape the clutches of education. As he walked into the classroom, a yellow-haired dragon with red horns waved him over. “Kael! Over here!” The yellow-haired dragon was holding a bag of candy. Kael walked over. “Let me have one of those.” “Since when do you eat sweets, man? I thought you hated sugary stuff.” “It’s for my pet.” 3 Kael unwrapped a piece of orange hard candy and lowered it into his pocket for me. I held out my hands to take it, making sure to rub my cheek against his fingertips. They were cool to the touch and smelled faintly of tobacco. He let out a low chuckle. “You sure know how to charm a dragon, little one.” And right on cue: [Ding! Kael’s Affection +1.] Wow, this dragon was way too easy to win over! I curled up in his pocket, gnawing on the basketball-sized candy, feeling pretty pleased with myself. That is, until I looked up and met a pair of yellow, vertical-slitted eyes staring right at me. They were uncomfortably close, and filled with a cold, calculating amusement, as if I were some fascinating new toy. I instinctively clutched Kael’s shirt. He must have sensed my fear, because he immediately placed a protective hand over the opening of his pocket. “Hey, what gives? Let me see,” came the voice of the yellow-haired dragon. “My pet is shy,” Kael replied smoothly. “She doesn’t like to be looked at.” Kael’s seat was in the back row by the window. The school was built into the side of a cliff, and through the clear glass, I could see the sprawling dragon city below. He was surprisingly attentive in class, a pair of glasses perched on his straight nose making him look quite scholarly. A simple black quill pen was held in his long, elegant fingers, scratching out words I couldn’t understand. “What are you looking at?” Kael’s deep voice rumbled above me. He used his thumb to nudge my head to the side. “You’re blocking my view.” I sat on the desk, smoothing my messy hair and giving him my best pout. “Bored? Looking for trouble?” he whispered. He pulled a tissue from his pocket and gently wiped my mouth. “You’ve got sticky candy all over your face. Just like the textbook said.” Me: ? What did the textbook say? As if reading my mind, Kael tapped his finger on a black-and-white illustration in his book. “Look. That’s you.” The drawing was a bit abstract, but I could make out a small… humanoid figure. “It says here,” Kael continued, “that Sprites are extremely small in stature, possess insufficient brain capacity, and are foolish and easily captured.” He paused, then delivered the final blow. “They can be used as… an Emergency Food Supply.” Me: ?! This garbage textbook is ruining my life! 4 The best sleep I’ve ever had has always been in a classroom. That hadn’t changed, even in a new world. The dragon teacher’s droning voice was like a lullaby, and the gloomy, rainy weather outside was perfect for a nap. Sitting cross-legged on the desk, I soon began to nod off. Just as I was about to topple over, I let out a little squeak of alarm. A large hand shot out and caught me. I snuggled into Kael’s warm palm, found a comfortable position, and hugged his thumb as a pillow, drifting off to sleep. I felt his thumb gently stroke my cheek. I protested with a sleepy squeak. (Stop that!) Through the haze of sleep, I heard him chuckle. “Hah. Quite the handful, aren’t you?” I slept right through until the final bell. They didn’t have classes in the afternoon. The yellow-haired dragon—I learned his name was Jax—leaned over as soon as class was dismissed. “Hey, Kael,” he said in a low, secretive voice, “you going to Old Duke’s place tonight?” Kael didn’t stop packing his books. “Not tonight,” he said dismissively. He flexed and rotated his left hand. “Hiss…” “What’s wrong?” Jax asked. “My hand’s asleep,” Kael said nonchalantly. “My emergency food supply was napping on it.” Jax: ? Me: ! After school, Kael didn’t head straight home. He stopped by the library and checked out a book titled: How to Raise Your Sprite to be Plump and Healthy. Plump and healthy… So I’d be more flavorful when he decided to eat me? I hung limply from his pocket, my will to live draining away as he scanned the pages with lightning speed. In the dead silence of the library, a series of loud gurgles and rumbles echoed through the room. Growl… gurgle… Mortified, I shrank deeper into his pocket, pressing my hands against my traitorous stomach, my face burning with shame. Several dragons looked up from their studies. Kael shot them a glare so ferocious it made them all duck their heads back down. Then, he reached up and gave the small, trembling lump in his front pocket a light smack. Right on my butt. 5 Beneath a sky thick with storm clouds, Kael unfurled his vast, night-black wings and dove off the cliff. I squeezed my eyes shut inside his pocket, my hands clutching his shirt for dear life. He flew with incredible speed, soaring past jagged rock formations and toward the heart of the city below. It was a hundred times more thrilling than any rollercoaster. By the time he landed and gently lifted me out of his pocket, I was completely disoriented, hanging limply from his fingers like a wet noodle. He pinched my cheeks between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand. “That’s all it takes to knock you out?” he teased. “The book was right. You’re incredibly fragile. Difficult to care for.” I managed to lift my head and give him a weak glare. “Fall in water, you die. Get bumped too hard, you die. Too cold, you die. Too hot, you die. Starve, you die. Eat too much, you die…” He ruffled my hair. “Useless, aren’t you?” I bit his finger. This dragon was so annoying! He was going to ruffle all my hair out! “Oh, feisty, are we?” he chuckled. “Keep biting and you won’t get any treats.” For the sake of food, I reluctantly let go. When he started to put me back in his pocket, I squeaked in protest. The space was too cramped. I pointed up at his head. He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised. “You want to sit up there?” I nodded eagerly. “Give you an inch and you take a mile.” I widened my eyes, giving him the most pathetic look I could muster. Kael: “…” “Fine. You win.” He lifted me onto the top of his head. “Hold on to my horns,” he warned. “If you fall, it’s not my problem.” His black hair was soft and fluffy, and the two small horns poking through were cool to the touch. It was a shame one of them was broken. The jagged edge felt rough under my fingers, and for some reason, it made my chest feel tight. Kael took me to a bakery in the city center. I could smell the sweet scent of baking bread from a block away. I tugged on his hair and pointed at a tray of freshly baked egg tarts. “Squeak-squeak!” (Those! Those!) “Squeak!” (And those!) He flicked my forehead with his finger. “I know, I know. What’s the rush?” After he paid, he tore off a small piece from a still-steaming loaf of bread and offered it to me. I was starving and reached for it, but just as my fingers were about to touch it, he pulled his hand back. I’d lunged with too much force and nearly tumbled off his head. He caught me with his other hand just in time. “Squeak!” I grumbled. (Why are you teasing me?!) But then Kael brought the piece of bread to his lips and blew on it gently. “It’s hot,” he said softly. “Let me cool it for you.” I froze. Why was it that this dragon, black as charcoal, suddenly seemed to be glowing?

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The day I fitted the Obedience Earpiece into my daughter’s ear, I vowed she would live the most perfect life. She got into the university I chose and married the man I selected, all according to my plan. The day her own child was a month old, I removed her earpiece, my heart swelling with pride. “Now,” I said, “it’s your child’s turn.” She took it from my hand, her face a blank mask, but then her arm shot out and she pushed it into my own ear. Before I could even process what was happening, she spoke, each word a cold, hard stone. “Kill me.” And in the next instant, I snatched the fruit knife from the table and, without a second’s hesitation, plunged it straight into her heart. 1 It was the last day of summer break when I went to my daughter Amelia’s school for the middle school orientation. As soon as I walked into the classroom, I could hear the other parents buzzing about something called an “Obedience Earpiece.” “That thing is a miracle worker,” one woman gushed. “Our little terror of a dog used to chew up the whole house. Now? He hasn’t destroyed a thing. Last night he even fetched the remote for me.” “I heard the next version is for people,” another parent whispered. “Designed specifically for those wild kids you can’t control.” “Well, even if my little Jackson burned the house down, I’d never use one on him,” a third declared righteously. “All I want is for him to be happy and healthy. Who cares if he listens to every little thing I say?” I offered a polite smile and turned to look at Amelia, sitting silently beside me. The top button of her school uniform was fastened tight against her throat, and her hair was parted neatly down the middle and pulled into the low ponytail I required. For twelve years, she had been the perfect, obedient daughter. She’d never caused me a moment of worry. She would never need something like an earpiece. Just as I was thinking this, Amelia gave a soft tug on my sleeve. “Mom,” she began timidly, “Lily’s mom got her a Glimmerling for doing well on her exams. I did well too, so I was wondering if maybe…” “A what?” I snapped. She flinched, then pointed a trembling finger toward a grotesque, grinning doll perched on a desk in the front row. “That. It’s a limited edition, but… but I’d be happy with just a regular one.” I pulled out my phone and searched for the price. The cheapest one was thirty-five dollars. I shoved the screen in her face. “Do you see this?” She bit her lip, her fingers twisting the fabric of her uniform. I thought that was the end of it, but as the meeting concluded, this daughter of mine, who had never once defied me, actually clutched my arm. “Mom… please? Just this once?” A sudden, hot fury surged through me. I slammed my hands on the desk, sending it crashing over with a deafening clatter. I pointed a shaking finger at her and roared, “House Rule Number Seven! Recite it!” Like a soldier snapping to attention, she stood ramrod straight, her voice thick with tears. “House Rule Number Seven: No toy shall cost more than twenty dollars.” I grabbed her ear, twisting it hard, and hissed, “You know the rule perfectly well, so why are you pushing your luck?” The classroom fell silent. The parent from the front row approached, holding the ugly doll. “It’s what all the kids are into these days,” she said, trying to be helpful. “If she doesn’t have one, she might get left out.” “Since when is keeping up with the Joneses a good reason?” I scoffed. “She asks for a toy today. What’s next? Drugs? Should I give her those too?” I knelt to pick up the scattered books. As I did, a folded piece of pink construction paper fluttered out from between the pages. Scrawled on it were two words: I like you. A wave of teasing laughter rippled through the parents nearby. “Well, well! Looks like your daughter’s quite the popular one at school!” A roar filled my head. My hand flew up and I slapped her across the face. Amelia stumbled and fell, the cuff of her pants riding up to reveal a pair of bright pink socks. “What is House Rule Number One?!” I shrieked. “No… no dating,” she sobbed, her face a mess of tears and snot as another parent helped her up. “Mom, I swear I didn’t…” She looked at me with those big, pleading eyes. “I… I don’t know who wrote it. You have to believe me.” “Oh, I’m sure the note just grew legs and walked into your book all by itself! It’s not like you were encouraging anyone!” I grabbed her by the collar and started dragging her out of the classroom. “At your age, already acting like a little tramp. Just wait until we get home. I’ll beat this nonsense out of you!” 2 In the car, her crying was incessant. One sharp glare from me was all it took to reduce the loud sobs to choked, silent gasps. Back home, I threw her into her room and slammed the door. “I’m going to ask you one last time,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “Who was it?” Her eyes went wide, and she shook her head frantically. “No one, Mom, I promise, there’s no one…” “Such a violent reaction! You’re lying! So, you’ve learned to lie to me now, have you?” I stood up, snatched the scissors from my desk, and marched toward her. Before she could react, I grabbed her ponytail and hacked it off. Ignoring her struggles, I then bent down and ripped the pink socks right off her feet. That’s when she broke. A raw, guttural wail escaped her lips as she collapsed into a heap of apologies. “I’m sorry, Mom, I’m so sorry, I was wrong…” But it was too late. I didn’t believe a word she said. I tore open her closet and began pulling out every dress, every skirt, every last pink item she owned. I cut and ripped until a mountain of shredded fabric lay at my feet, and only then did the tight knot of rage in my chest finally loosen, just a little. “Clean this up before dinner,” I commanded, my voice cold and absolute. I towered over her, watching the light slowly die in her eyes. “From now on, your hair stays short. No more dresses. And no more pink.” A flicker of satisfaction ignited within me. I turned and went to the kitchen to start dinner. When the meal was ready, I opened her door to find her curled up in a tight ball under her covers. Clang. The ladle hit the floor. “Amelia Sullivan! You have three seconds to get out here and eat!” “Three!” My voice grew shriller with each count. “Two!” “One!” Silence. She didn’t move. I stormed over, ripped the covers off, and dragged her to the dining table. She just sat there, catatonic, as tears plopped one by one into her bowl. That simmering rage boiled over again. With a scream, I swept my arm across the table, sending plates and food crashing to the floor. “If you don’t want to eat, then you can go copy the House Rules one hundred times!” She flinched violently, the tears flowing faster now, but she didn’t make a sound. She simply turned and walked back to her room. Staring at the wreckage, a new wave of frustration washed over me. In twelve years, this was the first time she had ever defied me. But it didn’t matter. I had ways of dealing with this. I never imagined that the next day, she would start a hunger strike. 3 Her breakfast went cold, untouched. At lunch, she locked her door. By dinnertime, I had reached my limit. I grabbed a metal coat hanger and smashed the lock on her door, breaking it open. I found her just as she was, still curled up on the bed. I yanked her up by her hair. “Amelia! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” I shook her, then slammed her head against the wall. Once, twice, three times. Her forehead was fine, but a trickle of crimson seeped from the corner of her mouth. She’d bitten through her own lip. My fury instantly evaporated, replaced by a surge of panic. I pried her mouth open to check the damage. It was just a cut, thank God. Tears streamed down my face as I pulled her into a hug, a belated wave of remorse washing over me. “Oh, my sweet Amelia, Mommy’s so sorry. I scared you, didn’t I?” I murmured, stroking her mangled hair. “Everything I do, I do for you. Do you have any idea how terrified I am that you’ll go down the wrong path?” “You’re my flesh and blood,” I whispered, rocking her gently. “I would never, ever hurt you.” I rambled on for what felt like an eternity, and eventually, she must have been moved by my words, because she gave my back a few soft pats. “I know, Mom,” she said, her voice hoarse. “But I’m really not dating anyone. Please… don’t be angry anymore, okay?” I pulled back, cupping her small face in my hands. “Okay, sweetie,” I said, my voice soft and gentle. “Mommy believes you.” And just like that, the rest of the summer passed in peace. But while I believed she wasn’t dating anyone now, the risk was always there as long as boys existed. To eliminate that risk at its source, I enrolled her in an all-girls boarding school. A month later, I drove to the school, bringing a thermos of her favorite beef stew to surprise her. I found her on the basketball court with a group of other girls. She was wearing a tank top and shorts, her exposed skin tanned a healthy golden-brown. I saw red. I sprinted across the field and hurled the thermos at her. It struck her on the head, and the hot stew splashed across her face. “Amelia Sullivan! Have you no shame?!” I shrieked, my voice echoing across the grounds. “A young lady playing basketball? Do you want to be a man?!” I spotted a high-pressure hose coiled on the lawn. Without thinking, I grabbed it, turned the nozzle on full blast, and aimed it directly at her. Her teammates tried to intervene, but one look from me sent them scattering. The force of the water blasted Amelia to her knees. She begged me to stop, but I felt no pity. I kept spraying until she was too weak to even plead anymore. Only then did I turn off the valve. “Go back to your dorm. Get cleaned up,” I commanded. Then I marched straight to the administration office and demanded she be transferred to a different class and a new dorm room. By the time I was finished, it was dark. Driving home, I couldn’t shake a lingering sense of unease. That’s when an ad popped up on my phone. [Obedience Earpiece 1.0 – Pet Use Only. Limited Time Offer.] I dialed the number immediately. The customer service representative began listing the disclaimers. “The current version has a nearly 100% command-override rate and is intended for domesticated pets only. Do not, under any circumstances, use on—” “Just ship it,” I interrupted, the image of Amelia on the basketball court flashing in my mind. “I need it now!” I hung up before he could say another word. That weekend, when Amelia came home from school, I greeted her with a warm smile and presented her with the earpiece. She touched it curiously, asking what it was. Once it was securely in her ear, I opened the app on my phone and typed in my first command: Drink the glass of bitter green juice on the table. Her eyes widened in horror, her fingers digging into the tabletop. For three long seconds, she fought it. Then, her expression went placid. She picked up the glass of bitter green juice—a drink she had always despised—and downed it without a single grimace. I stroked her head and smiled. This was my good girl. 4 The moment the glass was empty, she seemed to snap out of the trance, her hand trembling as it rose toward her ear. “Mom, what is this…?” “Don’t move!” I barked. She froze instantly, her arm suspended in mid-air as if someone had hit a pause button. I stepped closer, tilting her chin up so she was forced to look at me. “From now on,” I said, enunciating each word, “you will not remove this earpiece without my permission. Not for sleeping, not for showering. Not for anything. Understood?” A flicker of rebellion sparked in her eyes, but it was extinguished as quickly as it appeared. A stiff, unnatural smile stretched across her lips. “Yes, Mom.” That evening, my husband, Mark, returned from a business trip. I couldn’t wait to show him my success. I dragged Amelia in front of him. “Watch this. Show your father a trick.” Kneel down. Crawl in a circle three times. The dull thud of her knees hitting the tile floor sent a shiver of excitement through me. Suddenly, Mark exploded. He lunged forward and slapped the phone out of my hand. “What the hell are you doing? Is that a goddamn dog collar on our daughter?!” My good mood vanished. All this time, all the effort I’d poured into raising Amelia right, and he never once acknowledged it. All he ever did was criticize me. A thousand angry retorts died on my tongue, replaced by a single, cold sentence. “I’m doing what’s best for her. If you have a problem with it, we can get a divorce.” It was an empty threat, a bluff meant to make him back down and apologize. But instead, he smashed the glass he was holding against the wall. “Fine! Divorce it is!” he roared. “I’ve had enough of you and your twisted games!” Before I could even react, he had stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Hearing the commotion, Amelia asked, “Where did Dad go?” I grabbed a broom and started beating her across the back with the handle. “This is all your fault! If you weren’t so disobedient, I never would have had to do this! Your father wouldn’t have left me! It’s all your fault!” She didn’t cry out or try to dodge the blows. She just stood there, letting me vent my fury. When I was finally exhausted, she began to slap her own face, her voice a monotone chant. “It’s my fault… It’s all my fault… It’s my fault…” Seeing her so compliant, so understanding, soothed the raw edges of my anger. After the divorce, I got a job as an insurance agent. Every Sunday, before she left for school, Amelia would stand in the entryway and recite the House Rules. “Rule Number Nine: No fraternizing with members of the opposite sex.” … “Rule Number Twenty-One: Report daily itinerary in full.” … And before she walked out the door, I would always ask the same questions. “Have you memorized all the rules?” “Yes, I have.” “And what happens if you break a rule?” “All actions must comply with the House Rules. In the event of a violation, I will accept my punishment.” Only after receiving this perfect, programmed response would I allow her to leave for school. Under the earpiece’s watchful guidance, Amelia sailed through middle school and high school. On the day of her graduation, I dressed her in a high-necked, long-sleeved gown I had chosen. Three years ago, she’d rolled up her sleeves in gym class, and a boy had seen her forearms. I hadn’t let her show a single inch of her skin in public since. As I was fixing her hair, I noticed how much of it had fallen out lately. The stress of finals, I thought. I’ll make sure she eats better. She stepped onto the stage, a spotlight following her as she delivered the valedictorian speech. I watched, my eyes misting over, as her every movement, her every word, radiated flawless perfection. At the end of her speech, she paused for a moment, her gaze finding mine in the crowd. Her eyes were deep, unreadable pools. “The person I have to thank most in my life is my mother,” she said, her voice clear and steady. “Without her, I wouldn’t be who I am today.” She bowed deeply in my direction. I stood up, applauding wildly, basking in the envious and admiring glances from everyone around me. 5 “Amelia’s mom,” a voice whispered from behind me, “your daughter doesn’t look very happy. That smile… it seems so forced.” I glanced over at Amelia, who was posing for photos, her smile perfectly pleasant as she politely declined any picture requests that included boys—even young children or male teachers, just as I’d instructed. I pulled a sanitizing wipe from my purse and scrubbed at the spot on my shoulder where the other parent’s chin had brushed against me. “She’s just a serious girl,” I said coolly. “In this day and age, it’s better for a young woman to be reserved.” The parent to my right leaned forward, adjusting his glasses. “Is that one of those Obedience Earpieces she’s wearing? My nephew’s poodle has one…” “You’re mistaken,” I snapped, closing my purse with a loud click. “It’s a simple noise-canceling earbud.” I got up and walked away without another word. The divorce had taught me a valuable lesson: the earpiece had to remain my secret. On the day she had to declare her college major, Amelia’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time. Finally, she summoned her courage. “Mom, the computer science program at CalTech…” “Absolutely not,” I cut her off, snatching the laptop and typing in the code for the state university’s teaching program. “That’s too far away. I can’t have you moving across the country by yourself.” I continued typing. “Besides, teachers get summers and holidays off. It will make it much easier for you to take care of your family someday.” The blue light on her earpiece blinked erratically for a few seconds, then settled into a steady glow. After starting university, she grew quieter, spending hours just staring out the window from the balcony. Clumps of her dark hair clogged the drain in the kitchen sink like wilted seaweed. One day, as if sensing my growing anxiety, she spoke, her voice devoid of emotion. “I’m fine, Mom. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.” I was tallying up her medical bills for the month, and her words brought a lump to my throat. Such a thoughtful child, I thought. She understands how hard it is for a single mother. After she graduated, I moved with her into the teacher’s apartment complex provided by her new school. Her life was simple: she focused on her lesson plans, and I took care of everything else. During her breaks, she would either come with me to visit relatives or sit at home, resting her forehead against the wall as she stared into the sun. When she turned twenty-three, a matchmaker came knocking. It was then I realized that Amelia had reached a marriageable age. For years, I had forbidden her from interacting with any males besides the students in her class, so she’d never had the chance to date. But that was fine. I was here. I would find her a suitable husband. The day her child was a month old, I removed her earpiece, my heart swelling with pride. “Now,” I said, “it’s your child’s turn.” She took it from my hand, her face a blank mask, but then her arm shot out and she pushed it into my own ear. Before I could even process what was happening, she spoke, each word a cold, hard stone. “Kill me.” And in the next instant, I snatched the fruit knife from the table and, without a second’s hesitation, plunged it straight into her heart.

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I was born cursed with blood that cures any disease. In my last life, I healed Sandy Cummings, the city’s heiress—only to learn her family’s vow: her healer would inherit their fortune. Forced into our engagement, Sandy was shattered. Her true love, Brain Reed, had been scaling frozen peaks to find a mythical cure for her. Hearing of our betrothal, he fell from a cliff and vanished. A year later, Sandy found his body preserved in ice. She forced me to cut my wrist and bleed for him. “If you hadn’t interfered, Brain would’ve saved me! You killed him!” she screamed. “If your blood is miraculous, bring him back!” “Sandy, he’s been dead a year. I heal the sick, not raise the dead,” I pleaded, but she watched, cold-eyed, as I bled out. When I awoke, I was back at the day the Cummings summoned me to heal her. I glanced at her pale form in the wheelchair and raised a brow. “Miss Cummings, those legs… are beyond repair. No one can heal them.” 1 At my words, Sandy slowly lifted her head, her delicate features flushing with rage. “You quack! Get out of my house!” A faint smile touched my lips as I turned to her mother, who stood beside me. “Mrs. Cummings, if my family—the Landons—says a condition is incurable, it’s incurable. You’re still young. Perhaps you should consider trying for another child.” The words had barely left my mouth when Sandy’s teacup came flying at my head. I sidestepped, and the porcelain, worth thousands, shattered against the marble floor. Mrs. Cummings, startled, rushed to apologize. “Mr. Landon, please forgive us. I apologize on Sandy’s behalf. Her condition has made her…” I waved a dismissive hand. “I understand. I won’t lower myself to argue with a cripple.” I saw Sandy’s entire body tremble with fury as I turned and walked out of the Cummings mansion. Mrs. Cummings hurried after me, her voice a desperate whisper. “Mr. Landon, is there truly no other way? I’ve heard the Landon family possesses a secret art of healing, a cure for all ailments. If you can heal Sandy’s legs, the Cummings family will grant you anything you desire.” But the problem wasn’t that I couldn’t heal her. It was that I wouldn’t. In my past life, Sandy had blamed me for Brain’s death, stubbornly believing that the Alpine Starbloom he sought would have been her salvation. If she had possessed a single shred of logic, she would have known the flower was little more than a potent tonic, its miraculous properties wildly exaggerated. But when she discovered it was my blood, used as the base for her medicine, that had truly healed her, she didn’t hesitate. To save the frozen corpse of her lover, she watched me bleed to death. Just before the darkness took me, I overheard two of the Cummings family’s maids talking. Brain hadn’t fallen from the mountain while searching for a flower at all. After learning he’d lost his claim to the Cummings fortune, he’d been trying to trade up, seducing another wealthy woman. Her husband found out and was the one who threw Brain from that cliff. This time, I would not get entangled in their toxic drama. May they truly live happily ever after. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for Miss Cummings’s legs.” Sandy, having wheeled herself to the doorway, overheard me. Her sweet voice was laced with venom. “Mother, Brain is already on his way to the highest peaks. He’ll bring back the Alpine Starbloom, and my legs will be healed.” She shot me a glare. “My business is my own. I don’t need a stranger’s pity.” Mrs. Cummings sighed, a deep, weary sound. “Darling, the Starbloom might help with your recovery, but it’s not enough to make you walk again. The Landons are your last hope…” Sandy remained resolute. “I said, Brain will heal me.” I gave her one last, long look before bidding Mrs. Cummings farewell. As I stepped through the gates of the estate, a black town car screeched to a halt in front of me. A woman emerged, her face etched with despair, and fell to her knees before me. “Mr. Landon, I’m begging you… please, save my daughter.” 2 I learned then that the accident a year ago had claimed more than one victim. It wasn’t just Sandy who had been injured; so had her arch-rival, Sophia Sterling. After the crash, Sophia had slipped into a coma, remaining in a persistent vegetative state. But after the hell I’d endured in my last life, I wasn’t about to bleed for just anyone. I politely declined Mrs. Sterling’s plea. To her credit, she didn’t press the matter, simply wiping her tears and leaving. A week later, an invitation from the Cummings family arrived. Brain was back, the legendary Alpine Starbloom in hand. Worried that his remedy might be fraudulent or dangerous, Mrs. Cummings had begged me to attend the celebratory banquet and inspect it. At the party, Brain hovered by Sandy’s wheelchair like a devoted knight. Mrs. Cummings approached me, her brow furrowed with anxiety. “It’s not that I fear his medicine won’t work,” she confided in a low voice. “I’m terrified of seeing the hope in Sandy’s eyes extinguished again. The disappointment… it might break her. We’ve tried everything this past year. As a mother, watching her spirit fade bit by bit… it’s unbearable.” Before I could offer any words of comfort, Brain pushed Sandy’s wheelchair toward us. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Cummings,” he said with a confident smile. “I will have Sandy walking again. I nearly died on that mountain for this Starbloom.” Sandy squeezed his hand, her eyes shining with adoration. “Brain, as soon as I can stand, I’m going to wear the most beautiful wedding dress and marry you.” “I’ll be waiting for that day, my love,” he whispered back. Then, Brain turned to me, his smile taking on a sharper, mocking edge. “Unlike some charlatans and quacks, I deliver on my promises. I am certain I can cure Sandy’s paralysis.” His words struck a nerve. Several renowned physicians in the room, all of whom had previously treated Sandy, scowled. “That’s quite a boast, Mr. Reed,” one of them scoffed. “And what makes you so certain?” “You’re not even a medical professional,” another added. “Who are you to question our expertise?” “Even Mr. Landon of the Landon family said Miss Cummings’s condition was hopeless,” a third chimed in. “I find it hard to believe a young upstart like you has the answer!” Sandy, however, saw nothing wrong with Brain’s arrogance. She beamed with pride. “I believe in Brain. He will heal me!” A short, sharp laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. Brain thought I was mocking him. His jaw tightened, but he forced his smile to remain in place. “Mr. Landon, I hear you’re the most gifted healer of your generation. Yet you refused to help the Cummingss, and then you refused the Sterlings. It makes one wonder if you have any healing ability at all.” I raised my glass of champagne in a mock toast. “In that case, I eagerly await the day Mr. Reed helps Miss Cummings to her feet.” My calm amusement seemed to infuriate him more than any anger would have. His fists clenched at his sides. “Are you just bitter because I’ve stolen your spotlight? I know you wanted to marry Sandy, but she loves me. And I’m the only one who can heal her.” From her wheelchair, Sandy’s voice dripped with acid. “Liam, even if you could heal me, I’d never marry you. Especially not a fraud like you. When my mother first mentioned your name, I thought you were someone impressive. Turns out, you’re just another pretender.” “Let me make this perfectly clear,” she continued, her voice rising. “The only man I love is Brain, and he’s the one I will marry. Your pathetic attempts to show up in front of me won’t make me spare you a single glance.” Watching their little performance was starting to grate on me. “Mrs. Cummings invited me here to inspect Mr. Reed’s medicine. Since Miss Cummings has such unwavering faith in him, my presence is clearly unnecessary.” I turned to leave, but Brain blocked my path. “What’s that supposed to mean, Landon?” My patience snapped. “It means exactly what it sounds like. If you can’t figure it out, buy a dictionary.” His face went rigid. “Liam, I challenge you. Let’s make a wager. A bet to see which of us can achieve the impossible. The loser gets on his knees, admits defeat, and is banished from this city forever!” I stopped, a slow smile spreading across my face as I turned back to him. “I’ll take that bet. But I won’t be healing Sandy Cummings. I’m going to heal Sophia Sterling.” 3 “Ten days,” I declared, my voice cutting through the sudden hush in the room. “We have ten days. We’ll see if you can make Sandy Cummings walk, or if I can wake Sophia Sterling from her coma.” “So, Brain Reed,” I asked, my eyes locking with his. “Do you dare to bet against me?” The hall erupted in a cacophony of whispers. “The Sterling girl? Isn’t she completely unresponsive? That’s a hundred times harder than paralyzed legs.” “I heard the only thing keeping her alive is the fortune the Sterlings are spending on life support. She’s practically gone.” “If Mr. Landon can actually wake her up, it would be a medical miracle!” “Ten days? A month would be a miracle. Ten days is impossible!” Hearing the crowd’s doubt, a glint of triumph appeared in Brain’s eyes. “I accept!” he boomed. “Everyone here is a witness. Don’t you dare back out when you lose, Landon.” I let my smile widen. “I won’t lose.” From her chair, Sandy smirked, her expression a perfect picture of condescending pity. “Sophia is a living corpse. You couldn’t even fix my legs, yet you dream of curing her? Liam, if you concede right now, I might consider letting you stay in the city.” My gaze drifted pointedly down to her legs. “Be careful, Sandy. All medicines have side effects. With Mr. Reed’s ‘miraculous’ skills, you might find that not only do your legs remain broken, but you’ve also contracted some other… interesting ailment.” Without another word, I walked away. Brain was a finance major whose parents were factory workers. The idea that he possessed the medical knowledge to cure paralysis was laughable. That night, news of our wager spread like wildfire through the city’s elite circle. Bookies even set up odds. To bolster Brain’s confidence, Sandy put down a million dollars on him to win. The next morning, Mrs. Sterling picked me up and took me to the hospital. I brought out the medicine I had prepared—my own blood, distilled into a potent elixir. Gently, I lifted Sophia’s head and poured the liquid into her mouth. Seven days, at most. That’s all it would take for her to wake up. “Mr. Landon, thank you,” Mrs. Sterling said, her voice thick with emotion. “Whether or not Sophia wakes up, the Sterling family will forever be in your debt. Please, if there’s anything you need, you only have to ask.” She started to kneel again, but I quickly helped her up. “Mrs. Sterling, I’m not doing this for a reward. I’m doing this to win.” I met her tear-filled eyes. “And rest assured, I will wake your daughter.” Her face softened with gratitude. “I heard about your bet with that Reed boy. The Sterling family has placed a ten-million-dollar wager on you. When you win, the principal and all the profits are yours. Please, don’t refuse. It’s what you deserve.” Before I could respond, Brain appeared, pushing Sandy’s wheelchair down the hallway toward us. “So that’s your game,” he sneered. “I was wondering why you’d suddenly volunteer to help Sophia. You’re just after the Sterlings’ money.” He then turned to Mrs. Sterling with a look of feigned concern. “Ma’am, please don’t be fooled by him. He couldn’t even help Sandy. How could he possibly wake your daughter? You’ll end up losing both your money and your hope.” Mrs. Sterling’s expression turned to ice. “I have full faith in Mr. Landon. Your concern is not required, Mr. Reed.” Stung by her blunt rejection, Brain’s face darkened. “Fine. See if I care when he fails you.” Seeing Brain get shut down, Sandy jumped to his defense. “Mrs. Sterling, you’ve known me for years. You should trust me. This man is a total fraud. You can’t let him treat Sophia!” I held up a hand to stop Mrs. Sterling from retorting, my eyes fixed on Sandy’s legs. “Sandy,” I said calmly. “Have you not noticed? Your legs… they seem to be withering even more than before.” 4 Sandy instinctively pulled the blanket over her lap. “What nonsense are you talking about, Liam? Brain’s medicine has been working wonders. My legs feel better than they have in months.” A flicker of panic crossed Brain’s face before he stepped in front of her wheelchair. “You don’t know anything, Landon, so shut your mouth. This is a normal part of the healing process. In a few days, Sandy will be standing. You, on the other hand, should worry about yourself and how you’re going to wake up a vegetable.” I just smiled and said nothing. That evening, after giving Sophia her daily dose of the blood elixir, I received a video from Mrs. Cummings. It showed Brain mixing Sandy’s medication. Alongside the usual herbs, he added a few drops of a clear, unlabeled liquid. Just then, a small sound came from the hospital bed. I shot to my feet and rushed over. “Sophia? Are you awake?” Her eyelids fluttered open. She blinked, her gaze focusing on my face. “Liam?” she whispered, calling me by name. I stared at her, stunned. “You… you know me?” Before she could answer, the door swung open and Mrs. Sterling rushed in, enveloping her daughter in a tearful embrace. I slipped out, giving them their moment. My phone buzzed again. Another video from Mrs. Cummings. Sandy’s legs had atrophied even further. The mysterious liquid Brain was using had to be the cause. I thought back to my past life, how Sandy had insisted that Brain’s Alpine Starbloom would be her miracle cure. I wondered, in this life, when she discovered he had not healed her but destroyed her, would she still want to grow old with him? Over the next few days, Sophia dedicated herself to physical therapy. By the end of the week, she could walk on her own. Soon, the tenth and final day of the wager arrived. The Cummings mansion was packed. It felt like the entire city’s high society had turned out to witness the outcome, most of them having placed a bet. When Sophia and I walked into the grand ballroom, a wave of gasps rippled through the crowd. Jaws dropped. “Is that… Sophia Sterling? Am I seeing things? She’s really awake?” “My God, I put five hundred thousand on Brain Reed!” “The Landons truly are miracle workers. They healed a woman every hospital in the country had given up on.” The murmurs of the crowd drained the color from Brain’s face. He stared at me, his expression a mask of disbelief. “You… you actually did it? You woke her up?” I gave him a cold smile. “You lost, Brain. Time to honor our agreement.” All eyes turned to him, hungry for the drama. “Come on, Reed, a bet’s a bet. Get on your knees.” “Yeah, hurry up and kneel. Then get the hell out of the city.” Brain’s eyes darted upward toward the second-floor landing, a look of pure panic on his face. “I… I…” Just as he was about to buckle, a clear voice rang out from above. “Who said we lost?” Every head in the room snapped up. There, at the top of the grand staircase, stood Sandy Cummings, dressed in a stunning designer gown. “Good heavens, her legs are healed too!” “Maybe that Reed kid really does have some secret formula. Even Liam Landon said it was impossible.” “If they’re both healed… who wins the bet?” A triumphant smirk spread across Brain’s face. “You see that, Landon? Sandy can stand!” Sandy looked down at me, her expression dripping with disdain. “You said I was beyond saving, Liam. But here I am, standing right in front of you. Are you ready to admit you’re nothing but a fraud?” I simply shook my head. “Your legs might have been curable before, Sandy. But now… now they are truly hopeless.” Fire ignited in her eyes. “We’ll see how long you can keep up that arrogant act!” With that, she lifted her foot to take the first step down the stairs. I silently counted down in my head. Three… Two… One. A sickening thud echoed through the silent room as she collapsed, her body tumbling limply down the staircase. A woman standing near the bottom screamed, pointing a trembling finger. “Oh, my God! Look! What’s happened to Sandy’s legs!”

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