At sixty-three, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. I decided I was done fighting. My plan was simple: wait for my son to come home for Christmas, and then sign over the houses and my savings to him. A final gift. But I waited and waited, and all I got was a phone call. “Mom, we’re stuck in holiday traffic on the freeway. You go ahead and eat, don’t wait for us.” Silence. Just thirty seconds earlier, my ex-husband’s wife, Brenda, had posted their Christmas Eve dinner photo on Facebook. A perfect family portrait. Five smiling faces, raising their glasses to the camera. There was Richard, my ex, and Brenda. And next to them, my son Leo, my daughter-in-law Sophia, and my grandson, Noah. I never thought it would come to this. The son I had raised through hell and high water, the son who was my whole world, was spending Christmas Eve honoring the “father” who hadn’t spent a single day raising him. In that moment, I decided the three houses and the half-million dollars in my name had nothing to do with him anymore. 1 “Mom? Mom, are you there?” Leo’s voice, edged with confusion, crackled through the phone. When I didn’t answer, I heard him mumble to someone beside him, “I think the signal’s bad.” A woman’s voice, sharp with impatience, cut in. “Then just hang up. Richard is your dad. It’s Christmas Eve. Do we really need to report to your mother that we’re having dinner with him?” I recognized the voice. It was Sophia, my daughter-in-law. In the ten years she and Leo had been married, she had never once called me “Mom.” But here she was, calling my ex-husband “Dad” with such easy affection. To her, I was always “your mother” or “Noah’s grandmother.” As she once told me, mothers and daughters-in-law are natural enemies. She wasn’t going to pretend I was her mother, and I shouldn’t bother faking that she was my daughter. My role, in her eyes, was simple: provide support when needed—money, time, whatever—and in return, she would grant me peace. Leo mumbled a vague agreement. He must have slipped the phone into his pocket without ending the call. The voices grew more distant, but I could still make out Sophia’s urgent whisper, “Later, when you toast Dad, don’t forget to mention my brother’s job transfer.” They must have returned to their table, because the background noise swelled into a warm, festive chatter. I listened intently, my heart turning to a block of ice as I heard my own son, Leo, complaining about how I used to stop him from seeing Richard. “If Mom hadn’t gotten in the way for all those years, Sophia and I could have been there for Dad and Brenda long ago!” I knew he was just trying to impress Richard, to play the part of the long-lost, devoted son. But Richard didn’t respond with the tearful father-son reunion Leo was probably hoping for. He just gave a dry little laugh. “Your mother had her reasons.” Sophia, however, jumped to the attack. “Oh, Richard, don’t defend her. She was being completely selfish. No wonder you couldn’t stay married to her!” “Exactly, Dad,” Leo chimed in, his voice gaining confidence. “After all these years, I finally get it. The only reason she fought so hard for custody was so she’d have someone to take care of her in her old age.” The world tilted, and a bitter laugh escaped my lips. Thirty years. I had raised him all by myself, put him through graduate school. For this? He used to promise me, with all the earnestness of a child, “Mom, when I make it big, I’ll take care of you!” But it turned out, all this time, a seed of resentment had been growing in his heart. He resented me for taking him, for denying him the chance to get close to his powerful, successful “father.” And now, with Richard and Brenda’s biological daughter living permanently overseas, he saw his opening. He was willing to trample all over me to claw his way into Richard’s good graces. What a fool. Richard wouldn’t give him a dime. And now, neither would I. The three houses, the savings—they were no longer his. 2 I couldn’t bear to listen anymore. I hung up the phone and stood, carrying the plates of cold food back to the kitchen to reheat them. Leo’s favorite beef stew. Sophia’s favorite creamy mac and cheese. Noah’s favorite meatballs. I had made each dish just for them. My stomach was acting up, so I picked at a few of the blander vegetables before clearing the table. As I started to wash the dishes, my phone rang again, loud and jarring in the silent house. It was Leo, his voice hesitant. “Mom… did you not hang up earlier? My call log shows a fifteen-minute call…” I kept my voice flat, devoid of emotion. “Really? I didn’t notice. It was quiet on your end, so I just put the phone down and went to heat up dinner.” He let out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, well… Mom, we’re still stuck in this crazy traffic. Looks like we won’t make it until tomorrow.” Suddenly, Noah snatched the phone, his little voice bursting with excitement. “Grandma! Did you buy the iPad?” My eyes fell on the sleek, white Apple box sitting on the coffee table. The last time they visited, for Thanksgiving, I’d bought Noah the newest kids’ smartwatch. But he’d thrown a tantrum, crying that it wasn’t the right brand. He didn’t want some off-brand gadget; he wanted an Apple Watch, like his friends. Sophia had knelt to comfort him, her voice dripping with pity. “Oh, Noah, don’t cry. Grandma meant well, she just… gets confused. It’s okay, Mommy will buy you the watch. How about for Christmas, we ask Grandma to get you an iPad instead?” Her words had stung, but with them visiting so rarely, I didn’t want to make a scene. Now, over the phone, I could hear the smile in Sophia’s voice as she prompted him. “Grandma loves you so much, she definitely already bought it! Right, Noah’s grandma?” I said nothing. On the television, the Christmas Eve special was counting down to midnight. In the background of the call, I heard a sudden burst of laughter and music. Leo quickly made an excuse and hung up. After all, you don’t usually find Christmas parties in the middle of a freeway traffic jam. I opened the square box and started setting up the iPad, following the instruction manual. My best friend, Elaine, had the same one for watching her shows. It would be perfect for passing the time in the hospital. Next to the iPad was another box, smaller and more elegant. This was meant for Sophia. A tiny, expensive jar of night cream the saleswoman at Nordstrom had sworn by. The packaging was ridiculously lavish for such a small container. I unscrewed the lid and smoothed a dab of the thick cream onto my face. I couldn’t tell if it was magic, but it certainly felt better than the ten-dollar moisturizer on my bathroom counter. Finally, there were three thick Christmas cards. Each one had five hundred dollars in crisp bills inside. I emptied them all out. Then I took three twenty-dollar bills and slid one back into each card. That was all they were getting. I could already picture Sophia’s face tomorrow. She’d throw a fit. She’d probably threaten to divorce Leo again. She knew it was my greatest fear, their marriage falling apart, and she used it as a weapon. But this time, it wouldn’t work. 3 I didn’t sleep a wink. The gnawing pain in my stomach had been my constant companion for weeks, chasing away any hope of rest. But tonight, it was sharper than ever. Around seven in the morning, just after a neighbor had stopped by with Christmas cookies, the doorbell rang. It was Leo, with Sophia and Noah in tow. Noah, clutching a small bag of fruit, threw himself into my arms. “Grandma, Merry Christmas! Where’s my present?” Leo smiled from the doorway. “Mom, Noah picked those out especially for you. He knows you love oranges. A little something to wish you a happy and healthy new year.” I took the bag. Six oranges. My mind flashed back to Brenda’s Facebook post. For their Christmas Eve dinner at a fancy restaurant, Leo had brought Richard two bottles of expensive single-malt scotch and a cashmere scarf for Brenda. For me, he brought six oranges. “Grandma, Merry Christmas! Present time!” Noah chanted again, tugging on my sweater. I patted his head and handed him the three cards. They were painfully thin. Sophia’s face fell the second she saw them. But to my surprise, she didn’t say anything. She just nudged Leo with her elbow, and they exchanged a look I couldn’t quite decipher. Noah’s eyes, however, were sharp. He spotted the iPad on the coffee table and scrambled for it. “My iPad!” He pressed the home button, but the screen demanded a passcode. I gently took the device from his hands. “This is for Grandma to use, honey. You can ask your daddy to buy you one.” Noah froze for a second, then his face crumpled. He started wailing, kicking and punching the air. “It’s mine! It’s mine! Grandma promised! Bad Grandma! I hate you!” Sophia rushed to scoop him up, shooting me a dark look. “Honestly,” she muttered, “what does a woman in her sixties even need an iPad for?” I met her gaze, my voice calm and steady. “What, am I too close to the grave to learn something new?” Leo stepped in, trying to smooth things over. “Mom, come on, that’s not what Sophia meant. It’s just that the Apple system can be tricky. I can get you a different tablet, something simpler.” “No, thank you. I like this one. And don’t worry, I’ll figure it out myself. I won’t need your help.” Leo was speechless. He shot Sophia a look, gesturing for her to take Noah to the bathroom to clean his tear-streaked face. Now we were alone. “Mom,” he began, his voice low. “You’re angry that I went to Dad’s for dinner last night, aren’t you?” I didn’t answer. He was smart; he knew my sudden chilliness meant the lie about the traffic jam hadn’t worked. Leo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Mom, I know it wasn’t the right thing to do, but I didn’t have a choice! It’s tough out there, trying to make a living. Dad… he’s got money, connections. He can make things happen with a single phone call. I don’t understand why you’re so against me getting close to him. “His and Brenda’s daughter is living abroad now. It’s Christmas. They’re lonely. They want family around. Don’t you see what an opportunity this is for me? Can’t you just think about me for once?” He was getting agitated, a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. My voice was quiet, cutting through his tirade. “And you think he wants you close to him?” Leo flinched, a flicker of shame crossing his face. “Well, that’s your fault, isn’t it? If you hadn’t fought for custody, he wouldn’t be so distant with me now!” He took a deep breath, and the resentment poured out of him. “Mom, I know you sacrificed a lot for me. For a long time, I thought you were this great, noble mother. But when I really think about it, you were the selfish one! You know that saying people use online? ‘Don’t have kids if you’re broke’? You had no money, so why did you fight to keep me? “You got to have a son, you got your retirement plan all set. But do you have any idea how much I struggled growing up with you? If I’d been with Dad, I’d be the one living in Europe right now! “Mom, you’ve held me back for so many years. I’m begging you, please… just stop dragging me down.” He pressed his palms together, his voice cracking with a desperate, pleading hiss. 4 A deafening roar filled my head. I stared at Leo. He was a stranger to me. His eyes were filled with a mixture of frustration and raw, undiluted hatred. The heater was blasting warm air, but my hands and feet had turned to ice. When Richard and I divorced, he had been the one at fault, but his family’s lawyers had cleaned me out. I was left with nothing but Leo and my parents’ old, rundown house. Leo was barely a year old then, a tiny thing who knew nothing except how to wave his chubby fists and babble “Ma-ma.” I made a vow to him, to myself, that I would never let him want for anything. I worked my office job during the day and waited tables at night, killing myself to make ends meet. When Leo wanted to take art classes, then tennis lessons, I found a way. When he was in middle school, he mentioned offhandedly how he wished we lived in a real apartment building, not our shabby little house. I lay awake all night, and the next day, I drained my savings for a down payment. In high school, he needed tutoring for calculus and physics. He didn’t want group classes; he wanted a private tutor. The cost was double, but I thought, my son is ambitious, he’s trying to better himself. I can’t be the one to hold him back. I hired the best tutor I could find. Then he went off to college. My parents’ old property was finally bought out by developers, and I was given three small condos in return. My mother sold one and insisted the rent from the other two be sent to my account. I made sure Leo had a generous allowance, terrified he’d feel ashamed or left out among his wealthier classmates. For thirty years, I may not have given him a life of luxury, but I had lifted him up with every ounce of my strength. How could he say those things to me? After a long, heavy silence, I found my voice. It sounded brittle, alien. “Leo, if that’s how you truly feel, then I have something to say, too. Let’s sever our relationship.” His jaw twitched. He looked away. “Mom, don’t be ridiculous. That’s not what I meant.” “But it’s what I mean. From this day forward, I, Janet Miller, have nothing to do with you.” “Mom, stop being so dramatic! I know Dad hurt you, and you don’t like me seeing him. I get it, I really do! But he’s still my father! Can you please not make a scene about this right now?” he pleaded, grabbing at his hair in frustration. “I’m not making a scene. If you want to go crawling to Richard for help, go right ahead. But let me give you a piece of advice. It doesn’t matter how much you flatter him. He will never accept you as his son. There’s a secret I’ve kept from you all this time. The truth is, you—” “Oh, would you stop trying to poison him against us!” Sophia snapped, striding back into the room with Noah on her hip. “Why do you think Richard is so cold to Leo? It’s because of you! You’ve monopolized him for thirty years. Of course Richard resents it!” She rolled her eyes at me, then turned her sharp gaze on Leo. “Leo, she clearly doesn’t care about your feelings, so you don’t need to care about hers. Just tell her.” I stared at Leo. “Tell me.” His lips moved, but no sound came out. He hesitated, then finally spoke. “Mom… you know Dad and I haven’t had a real relationship. It’s hard for him to feel close to me. Sophia and I talked about it, and… we’re changing Noah’s last name. To Richard’s.” He paused, glancing at my face for a reaction before adding hastily, “I thought about changing my own, but at my age, it’s just too much paperwork… and besides, I didn’t want to hurt you…” Hurt me. He was worried about hurting me. The irony was so bitter I could taste it. A real, genuine laugh escaped me. “Why would that hurt me? I fully support you and Noah changing your names. We’ve already cut ties. You don’t need my permission for anything.” Sophia let out a derisive snort. “We’re not asking for permission. We’re informing you. Leo didn’t have the heart to say it, but since you’re so eager to disown him, you’ve made it easy. If you don’t care about family, then don’t blame us for doing what we have to do.” I nodded slowly. “Then it’s settled. Leo, from this moment on, we are strangers. I don’t need you to take care of me in my old age, and my assets have nothing to do with you.” For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed Leo’s face. “Mom, why are you doing this?” He reached for me, but Sophia grabbed his arm. “Leo! She doesn’t want you! Stop begging!” She gave him a sharp, meaningful look and then steered Noah out the door. Leo wrung his hands, torn. “Mom, we’ll go now. I’ll come back in a few days to check on you… Don’t listen to Sophia. You know how she is, she’s got a temper, but she doesn’t mean it. You’re my mother, no matter what. I’m not the kind of son who would just abandon you.” I didn’t reply. I just picked up my phone and started scrolling through news articles, as if he wasn’t there. He left, leaving the door slightly ajar. As I walked over to close it, Sophia’s voice drifted in from the hallway. “…she only has one son. Her money will be yours eventually, one way or another.” “But she seemed really angry this time, Soph. What if she’s serious about cutting ties?” “Don’t be stupid. People get angry. But parents don’t disown their children. It doesn’t happen. In ten years, when she’s old and helpless in a bed somewhere, you’ll be the one calling all the shots. Now stop worrying. Our priority right now is fixing things with your dad. Noah will be starting middle school in a couple of years, and we’re going to need his help.” She had it all figured out. I had given to Leo unconditionally my entire life, so I was disposable. They would mend their relationship with Richard, and then, when the time was right, they’d come back to me with a half-hearted apology, and we’d be one big, happy family again. They wanted it all: Richard’s connections and my assets. Too bad for them. Leo wasn’t my biological son. Or Richard’s.

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To torment her ex who dumped her for money, my CEO girlfriend hired him as her assistant. She humiliated him weekly but never fired him. Ross was incompetent, constantly messing up. Each time, Victoria berated him while I fixed his mistakes. I told myself it was temporary revenge. Then he cost the company millions by misplacing a decimal. When he tearfully offered to resign, Victoria turned to me: “Take the blame. We must set an example.” She threatened breakup, certain I’d cave. But this time, I just said, “Fine. Let’s break up.” 01 Victoria froze for a second, then a practiced smile spread across her face. The tension in her shoulders eased as she slid back into a familiar routine, taking my hand and cooing. “Oh, baby, I forgot you had a temper. My Ethan is always so good and does whatever I ask. Of course we’re not breaking up. We’re getting married!” She squeezed my hand. “Ross stole my mother’s life-saving surgery fund, Ethan. I’ve only been tormenting him for six months. If he quits now, where do I get my revenge?” “Come on,” she wheedled, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I won’t make you take the official blame. But you’ll have to work some overtime, okay? Make up the loss, keep the board happy. You can do that for me, can’t you?” Before I could answer, she whipped out her phone. A moment later, a notification pinged on every device in the company: an all-hands meeting in the main conference room. We all filed in. Ross, naturally, was the last to arrive, shuffling his feet. He was about to slump into a chair when Victoria’s voice cut through the room, sharp as ice. “Who said you could sit? Have you forgotten what you did? Do you have any idea the kind of damage your ‘mistake’ has caused? How many people will have to work their asses off to fix it?” Her voice was low but carried an authority that made the air crackle. Ross’s eyes immediately reddened with theatrical tears. The rest of the staff, however, were used to this show. Heads bowed as phones lit up with a private group chat. And here we go again. Round six of the public humiliation show. The best part is, after she’s done screaming, he’ll get a promotion, and we’ll be the ones working weekends to cover the million-dollar ‘oopsie’. She thinks we’re just part of their sick little game. I don’t know, this time feels different. I saw her and Ethan arguing in her office earlier. And look, he’s not even sitting next to her. Is this it? Is Ethan finally putting his foot down? God, I hope so. I can’t take another day of that leech Ross. I’d joined that group chat under a fake name months ago. It was the only thing that kept me sane, knowing I wasn’t the only one suffering. I used to tell myself to just hang in there, that Victoria would eventually get bored. I was a fool. From her seat at the head of the table, Victoria watched Ross’s lip tremble. She cleared her throat, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. “However, this company has always been lenient with its employees. Since this is your first major offense, your punishment will be…” The room held its breath. “…a one-hundred-dollar deduction from this month’s performance bonus. Let this be a warning to you all.” A collective, silent groan rippled through the room. Victoria then rose and walked to my side, placing her hands on my shoulders. She tilted her chin at Ross. “Well? Aren’t you going to thank Mr. Cole? If it weren’t for Ethan agreeing to work overtime to cover the company’s losses, you’d be out on the street.” My hand tightened around the pen I was holding, and it snapped in two with a sharp crack. The same old story. A grand gesture of punishment that meant nothing, followed by me cleaning up the mess. When Victoria hired Ross, she insisted his salary had to be high enough to keep a “gold-digger like him” around. He made thirty thousand a month as an assistant—more than most of our department heads. A hundred dollars was less than his dinner budget. I remembered a time I’d negotiated a deal that, while costing us a million in upfront profit, secured a hundred-million-dollar contract down the line. Victoria had docked my entire year’s salary, lecturing me that if everyone took risks like that, the company would go under. She’d said that because I was her fiancé, she had to be harder on me, to avoid demoralizing the staff. All her principles, all her rules, were a fucking joke when it came to Ross. Ross, trembling as if he’d been mortally wounded, dragged himself to his feet and walked over to me. SMACK! He slapped me across the face. “You’ve had it out for me since day one, Ethan,” he spat, his voice shaking with manufactured rage. “You knew there was a problem with that contract and you let me fail. I’m sick of you. Thank you? Go to hell! This company isn’t big enough for both of us!” Victoria’s face contorted with fury. She pushed me behind her. “What do you think you’re doing?” Ross then turned and slapped her, his eyes filled with a lover’s tragic despair. “Victoria, you know I only put up with this torture because I love you! If you’re going to defend him like this, then I quit! I’m done with you!” The room erupted. People shot to their feet, asking if we needed a doctor. I calmly addressed Ross, my cheek stinging. “I told you the contract was wrong. You ignored me and went over my head straight to Victoria to get it approved. Don’t you dare try to rewrite history.” Victoria’s face was a mask of conflicting emotions. “That’s enough, Ethan!” she hissed. “Are you trying to blow this up so the board finds out? Will you be happy once Ross is fired?!” She turned back to Ross, her voice a low, threatening whisper. “Without the salary I pay you, what happens to your mother? Don’t be a fool.” I had to laugh. Years ago, when Victoria and Ross were engaged, her mother suddenly fell ill. Ross’s mother, seeing an opportunity, convinced him to steal the thirty thousand dollars Victoria had scraped together for the surgery. He dumped her and fled the country. If I hadn’t stepped in, pulling together loans and my own savings, Victoria would have lost her mother. She told me she would have ended her own life. And for the past six months, I’d watched her use “client dinners” as an excuse to go take care of Ross’s mother, who’d had a stroke. What a saint. When my own mother passed away, Victoria had been “too busy with work” to be with me. Her own frail mother? I was the one who sat with her in the hospital, who remembered her on holidays. But Ross’s mother got Victoria’s personal attention. Ross stood there, fists clenched, defiant. “I can make it on my own!” I couldn’t help but sneer. “On your own? The only thing you’re qualified for is washing dishes. You think you can afford a Patek Philippe on a dishwasher’s salary?” “Ethan!” Victoria’s voice was sharp. She shot me a death glare, then let out a sigh. “Ethan, you’re suspended. Go home. Ross will cover your duties.” A shocked silence fell over the room. I laughed, the sound brittle. “He hits me, and you suspend me?” Ross’s face lit up with a smug grin. Victoria gave his cheek a dismissive pat. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not sending Ethan home because of you. We have a wedding to plan. He needs the time off.” She turned her cold gaze back to Ross. “And as for you, since you’ve caused so much trouble, you can do his job. That’s your real punishment.” Even a child could see her blatant favoritism, wrapped in a tissue of corporate bullshit. My colleagues looked at me with a mixture of pity and disappointment. I let out a cold laugh and unclipped my ID badge from my suit. “No need for a suspension,” I said, my voice ringing with finality. “I quit. That way, you won’t have to choose the next time he throws a tantrum.” 02 I didn’t get to be Victoria’s second-in-command by accident. I was good at my job, and I had a Rolodex of offers from bigger companies willing to pay me a fortune. The VP title meant nothing to me. If she wanted to give it to Ross, she could have it. I walked out of that conference room, went straight to HR, and had my access revoked. I was out of the building in fifteen minutes. Victoria tried to follow me, to “explain,” but I brushed her off each time. She was the CEO; her pride wouldn’t let her make a scene. Her face hardened, and she let me go. My car keys were with her, so I was about to call a cab when my phone started buzzing. You did the right thing, man. We’ve all been sick of her favoritism for months. You’ll always be the boss to us. Fly free, Ethan! We’re right behind you! That pretty boy Ross is going to make our lives hell. I’m polishing my resume tonight. I messaged each of them back, telling them to hang tight, that if they wanted out, I’d help them. By the time I got home, Victoria had finally deigned to text me. I know you’re just angry. I’m not going to hold it against you. Use this time to focus on the wedding plans. A wave of exhaustion washed over me. Our wedding. It was a month away. But the bride had already chosen another groom. What was the point? I opened the wedding planning group chat and typed a message. To all our friends and family: Due to unforeseen circumstances, the wedding scheduled for September 9th has been postponed indefinitely. We wish you all the best. The chat exploded. Victoria’s cousin was the first to chime in. Okay, my cousin-in-law-to-be is the most stable guy I know, so this has to be Tori’s fault. What did you do this time, @VictoriaQuinn? Last time your assistant pissed off a client, Ethan was the one who went to smooth things over and got a bottle broken over his head. He put up with that. So what did you do to finally push him over the edge? Spill the tea! Victoria replied with a single question mark. Then: Ethan’s just joking. The wedding is still on. A second later, my phone rang. Her voice was laced with annoyance. “You’ve been complaining for months that I never have time to plan the wedding with you. Now I give you the time, and you pull this stunt?” In the background, I heard Ross’s voice, deliberately loud. “Tori, this VP chair is so uncomfortable. Can you buy me one of those fancy ergonomic ones? It would be great for my gaming.” “Who gave you permission to call me Tori?” Victoria snapped. “And who are you to make demands? I hired you to work, not to play games! …Which model? I want to make sure it’s comfortable for when Ethan comes back.” I laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. The whole situation was absurd. I hung up and blocked her number. If she wanted to play her little push-and-pull games with Ross, she could have at it. I walked into the bedroom and saw the stacks of handwritten invitations on the desk. I’d insisted on doing them by hand, telling her it was more personal. She’d laughed and called me an old-fashioned romantic. Only three left to write. And now, they would never be sent. I found a pair of scissors and started cutting them into pieces, one by one. Then I stopped. One of the invitations had different handwriting. It was Victoria’s. And on the line for the groom’s name, she had written: Ross Vance. A cold wave washed over me, starting from my toes and crashing into the base of my skull. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand. All this time, while I was joyfully planning our future, the groom in her fantasies had been someone else. I spent the rest of the afternoon dismantling our wedding. I returned what I could, gave the non-refundable decorations to the kids downstairs, and packed my own belongings into boxes. By the time I looked up, the sky was dark. I ate some frozen dumplings for dinner. As I was washing the dishes, the front door opened. Soft footsteps crept up behind me, and a pair of delicate hands covered my eyes. “Guess what surprise I have for you?” 03 “Red roses,” I said flatly. It’s all she ever gave me. When she first asked me out, she brought red roses. I’d mentioned, once, that I liked them. For the next seven years, on every birthday, every anniversary, every holiday, it was red roses. Ninety-nine times. I used to think it was a sign of her devotion. Now I just saw it as lazy. “Nope!” Victoria said with a laugh, dropping her hands. I turned, surprised. She was holding out a small, elegant box. Inside was a deep navy-blue tie. “Will you wear this at the wedding? Come on, my handsome groom, don’t be mad anymore.” She didn’t notice the blood drain from my face. She didn’t notice how my body had gone rigid. She took the tie out of the box and tried to loop it around my neck. I shoved her hands away. Her face instantly clouded over, and she tossed the tie back into the box. “Ethan, that’s enough.” She then took a picture of the tie and started texting, a smirk playing on her lips. I could see the screen. It was Ross. I begged you to buy me this tie for months, and you give it to him?! he wrote. Victoria’s smirk widened. My fiancé likes it, so I bought it for him. What right do you have to be angry? I moved then, stumbling into the bathroom. I collapsed in front of the toilet and retched, my stomach heaving. She had forgotten. I had told her, years ago, about my father. About how my mother had been having an affair, and how she’d stood by and watched as her lover strangled my father to death with a tie. It was the defining trauma of my life. I couldn’t even button the top button of my shirts. I never forgave my mother, not even on her deathbed. And now, to win a petty game against Ross, Victoria had given me a tie. The force of my heaving brought tears to my eyes. When I finally emerged from the bathroom, I walked over to the box and swept the tie into the trash can. Victoria finally looked up from her phone, her eyes wide with shock. I went into the bedroom and came back with her pair of matching slippers, her coffee mug, her little trinkets from our shared life. I set them on the table. “I’m looking for a new place. I’ll be out in a couple of days. This is all your stuff. Do what you want with it.” Her face was pale, a flicker of panic in her eyes. “What is it now?” “You love your ex so much?” I said, my voice dripping with scorn. “Then I wish you two a long and miserable life together.” I went into the guest room and locked the door. A long time later, as if she’d finally figured it out, there was a soft knock. “Ethan,” she whispered through the door. “I’m sorry. I screwed up. I won’t do it again. I took the day off tomorrow. We can go get our wedding photos taken. Please?” I was about to refuse, but then I remembered: I had to go to the studio anyway to cancel the appointment. I remained silent. Let her think I agreed. My actions would speak louder than any words. The next morning, she insisted on holding my hand as we left the apartment. Ross was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs, looking pathetic. The moment he saw Victoria, he threw his arms around her, his voice cracking. “Tori, my mom was discharged from the hospital, but my apartment is too small for her to recover in. Can you help me find a place?” He could have texted her. He was here to provoke me. Victoria pushed him away, annoyed. “For God’s sake, Ross, can’t you do anything for yourself? I’m your boss, not your mother’s caretaker. And my fiancé is standing right here. Don’t give him the wrong idea. We’re on our way to our wedding photoshoot. I don’t have time for your drama.” She got the reaction she wanted: Ross’s face fell. But when he clutched his stomach, her expression softened. She snatched the box of dumplings from my hand and shoved it at him. “Stop being so dramatic. Here. These were Ethan’s leftovers. You can have them.” And with that, she grabbed my hand and pulled me away. She knew I had stomach problems, a souvenir from years of stressful client dinners. She knew if I skipped breakfast, the pain would be excruciating. And she had just given my food away. I curled my fingers into a fist, then pulled a piece of hard candy from my pocket and popped it into my mouth. It wasn’t worth the fight anymore. In the car, Victoria launched into a tirade about Ross. “He’s still such a pathetic gold-digger! Too cheap to even rent a decent place for his own mother! And she’s just as bad, letting her grown son beg me for a place to live. It’s ridiculous!” I ignored her, scrolling through apartment listings on my phone. Her voice trailed off. After a moment of silence, she asked, “Our new house… it’s been airing out for six months now, right?”

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The day Ken Sterling and I were supposed to get engaged, his childhood sweetheart crashed the party. By slitting her wrists. The ceremony was called off. And I was just… done. 01 Outside the emergency room, a frantic energy buzzed around everyone, especially Ken. I was the only one still, my expression a flat mask of exhaustion. “They’re coming out, they’re coming out…” The light above the ER doors flickered off. The doors swung open, and a doctor in white scrubs emerged. “She’s stable. We got her in time.” A collective sigh of relief rippled through the group. I felt it too. I reached up, my fingers finding the pins holding my veil. I pulled it free, the delicate white tulle feeling impossibly heavy in my hand. Trailing my long gown behind me, I walked over to where Ken was sagging against the wall, his own relief palpable. He saw me and reached for my hand, his smile strained and weary. “Thank God she’s okay.” Yes, thank God. If she had actually died, it wouldn’t just be Ken who’d never get over it. I would carry that weight, too. I’m not a monster; I wouldn’t build my happiness on the foundation of someone else’s grave. At his parents’ insistence, Ken went to Willow’s recovery room. I sank onto a hard plastic chair in the hospital corridor, the cold wall a welcome shock against my back. Soon, four figures stood over me, casting long shadows in the sterile light. Willow’s mother, her eyes red-rimmed and pleading. “Aria, I know you’re a good girl. But you see how much she loves Ken. If you two stay together… I’m terrified that next time, we won’t be able to save her.” Her father glared down at me, his face a mask of undisguised hostility. “Willow and Ken grew up together. We all just assumed… This thing with you, it’s a youthful infatuation. Once he matures, he’ll come back to her. He always does.” Ken’s mother, Mrs. Sterling, looked at me with a desperate earnestness. “I know this is terribly unfair to you, dear, but… can you find it in your heart to let them be? I know my son. He acts like he’s unaffected, but he’s dying inside. They share a history you and I can’t understand.” His father just scoffed, his anger directed at his wife but his displeasure aimed at me. “I told you this was a bad idea from the start! But no, ‘let the young people make their own choices.’ You spoiled him, and now look at this mess!” Their message was unanimous: End it with Ken. We had been together for three years. Three years of walking on eggshells. Every time Ken and I got a little too close, a little too happy, Willow would have a “depressive episode.” At least ten overdoses, seven trips to a rooftop ledge, five sliced wrists. And every single time, Ken was gutted with guilt and self-blame. Our relationship became a secret, conducted in whispers and stolen moments. I felt less like a fiancée and more like a dirty little secret. We finally managed to arrange this engagement, a quiet affair, hoping she wouldn’t find out. But she did. And here we were. I always thought the saying was “There are plenty of fish in the sea.” She seemed determined to prove the only way to keep hers was to die for him. She had to be insane. Honestly, they didn’t need to pressure me. Today’s little spectacle had shattered my last nerve. I was terrified she would actually succeed one day, and I’d be haunted for the rest of my life. I was also terrified that whatever sickness plagued her mind was contagious. And if she had it, would Ken, her lifelong companion, catch it too? It wasn’t a gamble I was willing to take. I valued my life far too much. 02 Still, a breakup deserved a face-to-face conversation. “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, Willow’s parents,” I began, my voice steady. “You don’t have to convince me. I was already planning on ending it.” I pushed myself to my feet, my gown pooling around me. “Since Willow is out of danger, I’m going to head home. I’m exhausted.” Leaving them standing there in stunned silence, I walked away, the rustle of my dress the only sound in the quiet corridor. Back at the apartment Ken and I shared, I climbed into bed without a shred of guilt. I knew my words would be all the ammunition those four needed to keep Ken at the hospital. As expected, he didn’t come home that night. Not even a phone call. Since we were breaking up anyway, I didn’t care. Ken had pursued me for four years in college, swearing I was his first and only love. After graduation, he followed me to this city. His persistence finally wore me down. If I had known he came with a childhood sweetheart who had a death wish, I would have run for the hills. Three days passed before he finally came back. He looked utterly drained. Seeing me, a wounded look filled his eyes. “Aria,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. “I’m so tired.” Seeing his weariness, his raw dependence on me, a flicker of pity stirred. But the thought of a lifetime lived on high alert, always waiting for the next crisis call, extinguished it immediately. An old saying echoed in my mind: a clean break is the kindest cut. I twisted the engagement ring off my finger and held it out to him. “Ken, this isn’t working. Let’s just… call it quits.” The fatigue on his face froze, replaced by a raw, stunned disbelief, as if I’d just thrown a bucket of ice water on him. He lunged forward, grabbing my hand. “Aria? What are you talking about? ‘Call it quits’? Is this because I wasn’t here? Let me explain, Willow, she—” I yanked my hand back so hard the ring almost flew from my grasp. “Stop. Don’t you dare say her name to me. The sound of it makes me physically ill, and frankly, it’s starting to make you look ugly too.” I brushed past him and headed for the walk-in closet, pulling out my largest suitcase. “This has nothing to do with your precious Willow. It has everything to do with the fact that being with you feels like it’s shaving years off my life.” He blocked the doorway, his tall frame radiating a desperate energy. His eyes were red-rimmed. “Shaving years off your life? Aria! Four years in college, three years of our lives together… and you’re throwing it all away because I took care of Willow for a few days?” “Don’t you know how I feel about you? I love you!” A bitter laugh escaped me as I started throwing clothes haphazardly into the suitcase. “Your love is too heavy, Ken. It comes with a ‘plus-one’ who might bleed out on our doorstep at any moment.” “Is that your idea of love? Forcing me to live under the constant shadow of ‘if she dies, we’re murderers’?” “I’m sorry, but I’m not playing this game of Russian roulette with you anymore. I like living.” I slammed the suitcase shut, the zipper screaming in protest. “Here’s the ring. Let’s make this clean. You can have the apartment, sell it, I don’t care. Just wire me my half.” “I don’t agree,” he growled, his hand clamping down on the suitcase handle. “Why do you get to decide this? What did I do wrong? I was with her because her life was on the line, Aria! Can’t you be less cold-hearted for one second?” I almost laughed in his face. I tugged at the handle, but he wouldn’t budge. “Fine,” I snarled, my patience gone. “You want to know why? Because I’ve had enough.” “I’ve had enough of your self-harming sweetheart.” “I’ve had enough of you dropping everything to play firefighter every time she has a mood swing.” “I’ve had enough of your families looking at me like I’m the other woman.” “And most of all, I have had enough of this gut-wrenching fear that one day I’ll wake up to the news that she finally succeeded, and everyone—including you—will look at me like I’m the one who pushed her.” “Your love, Ken, is poison wrapped in honey. I’m afraid of dying, so I’m done eating it. Got it?” I abandoned the suitcase and grabbed my purse and laptop instead. “Let go. Don’t make me call the cops and report you for unlawful imprisonment.” My words seemed to pin him to the spot. His grip on the handle slackened, his eyes a maelstrom of pain and confusion. “It’s not like that… Aria, I love you. Willow is just… she’s sick. She needs help…” “She needs a psychiatrist, Ken. Not your bottomless enabling and your family’s spineless indulgence.” I grabbed my things. “Now move. I only waited this long to tell you this to your face. I’m leaving tonight. Don’t make me say something I’ll regret.” Finally, he slumped, letting me pass. He leaned against the doorframe, his spine gone, watching me drag my suitcase to the front door without a single look back. The moment the door clicked shut, I heard a sound from within—a raw, strangled growl, like a cornered animal. 03 I checked into a hotel, but the world didn’t get any quieter. Ken’s calls, texts, and voicemails were a relentless bombardment. They morphed from pleading and apologies to accusations and blame, finally settling into a frantic, obsessive loop. He needed an answer. “Why? Aria, just tell me why.” “Willow’s done this before. You never cared this much in the past.” “I love you so much, and I know you love me. What did I do wrong? Just tell me!” His voice was hoarse and agitated on the other end of the line. I stood by the cold hotel window, watching the endless stream of headlights below, a profound weariness seeping into my bones. I cut through his hysterical questioning. “Ken, I already made it perfectly clear.” “Love isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card.” “Your love can’t fix Willow’s problems, and it can’t erase the constant fear I live with that she’s going to kill herself. I’m tired, Ken. I don’t want to live like this anymore. We’re—” Before I could finish, a jarring ringtone blared from his end. It was the special ringtone he’d set for Willow. My stomach dropped. Sure enough, his voice came back, rushed and frantic. “Aria, hold on. It’s Willow’s mom… she’s not doing well again. I have to…” The line went dead, leaving only the monotonous dial tone. I stood there, phone in hand, listening to the dull beep… beep… beep… A cold, bitter wave of absurdity washed over me. See? There was the answer. There was always something more important, more urgent. There was always a “not doing well” Willow who could make him hang up on me without a second thought. Even in the middle of him demanding to know why I didn’t love him anymore. My heart ached with a fatigue so deep it felt terminal. A single, powerful thought took root: Leave this city. Run far away and let all these toxic people and their screwed-up lives go to hell. But as my thumb swiped across the screen, I saw a notification from my work group chat about a major project. The impulse died as quickly as it had been born. Throw away a career I’d spent years building, all for a man? He wasn’t worth it. 04 I thought breaking up meant cutting ties. But Ken started showing up at my office, trying to corner me in the lobby. I ignored him every time, making my decision crystal clear. I could dodge Ken, but I couldn’t dodge Willow. She found me outside my building, dressed in a simple white dress that made her look even more fragile. “Aria,” she pleaded, her voice trembling. “Please, just give Ken back to me. Please?” “I can’t live without him… That last time, with my wrists… I really wanted to die. I wanted to set you two free.” “But Ken doesn’t want me to die. He still loves me. So if you just give him back, I can keep living.” “Please,” she whispered, her fingers grabbing my arm. They were ice-cold and shook with a nervous tremor. “Save my life.” A hot surge of revulsion shot through me. I ripped my arm from her grasp and took a step back. “Listen to me very carefully, Willow. First, Ken and I are over. Done. Finito.” “Second, he is not a possession to be ‘given back’.” “And third, your life is your own responsibility. If you can’t handle it, that’s on you, not me, and not Ken. Get professional help. And stay the hell away from me.” My coldness seemed to snap something in her. She looked up, tears still clinging to her lashes, but her eyes held a new, manic glint. “You’re lying! You haven’t broken up at all! You’re still seducing him, aren’t you? Why else would he keep trying to see you?” “Why won’t he come back to me? It’s because of you! Because you’re still in this city!” She took an aggressive step forward, her voice rising to a shrill pitch. “Leave! Get out of here! If you leave, Ken will finally give up and come back to me. Just go!” I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “Are you actually insane? Whether I stay or go is my business, not yours. For the last time: get away from me.” “You won’t go, will you?” The fragile victim act vanished, replaced by a desperate, cornered-animal ferocity. “Fine! Fine! If you won’t go, I’ll die for you to see. Right here, in front of your office.” “I’ll make sure everyone knows you stole my boyfriend and then drove me to my death!” Here we go again. The death threats. I was so sick of it. I turned my back on her, wanting nothing more than to escape this lunatic. “If you’re going to die, do it somewhere else. Don’t ruin my day.” I started to walk away, assuming it was just another empty threat. I underestimated her commitment. Or maybe, her madness. SCREEEEEECH— Behind me, a symphony of horrified screams and the piercing shriek of tires on pavement. My head snapped around, my heart seizing in my chest. Willow had actually thrown herself into traffic. A black sedan was stopped dead, its front bumper inches from her body. The driver, pale and shaking, leaned out the window, screaming. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU WANNA DIE, FIND A FUCKING BRIDGE! DON’T GET ME INVOLVED IN YOUR SHIT!” Willow was crumpled on the asphalt, no more than a foot from the car’s grille, her face as white as a ghost, her entire body trembling uncontrollably. 05 “WILLOW!” A familiar, gut-wrenching roar tore through the air. Ken materialized out of nowhere, sprinting past me. He scooped her limp form off the road, pulling her back to the safety of the sidewalk. He held her tight, his hands frantically checking her for injuries. “Willow, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? It’s okay, I’m here, you’re safe.” Then, he looked up, his eyes locking onto me where I stood frozen. The eyes that once held so much love for me were now blazing with a terrifying inferno of fury, chilling disappointment, and something that looked dangerously like hatred. “Aria. What did you do to her? What the hell did you say?” “Her mood was finally stable! She promised me she wouldn’t try anything like this again!” “She said she was coming here to apologize to you! So why did she do this? What did you say to set her off?” “This is all my fault, I know, but she’s sick, Aria! How could you provoke a sick person?” A crowd was gathering, whispering, pointing. “Yeah, I heard her,” someone piped up. “That woman in the suit told the girl to go die somewhere else.” “She looks so put together, but she’s got a black heart.” Ken stared at me, his expression hardening with disbelief. “Aria… when did you become so cruel? Do you hate her that much? Enough to want her dead?” In his arms, Willow began to sob, her fingers clutching his shirt like a lifeline. She was the one who wanted to die, not me. How dare he blame me for this? The injustice, the rage, the years of pent-up frustration… it all erupted inside me like a volcano, so hot and violent I thought my chest would explode. Seeing him cradling her, hearing his blind accusations, watching him look at me as if I were a murderer… every shred of my composure, my civility, my sanity—it all just snapped. “ARE YOU FUCKING BLIND, KEN?” “SHE—this certifiably insane psycho—came to find ME. Demanding I ‘give you back’ to her.” “I told her we were done and to get lost, and what does she do? She has another one of her episodes and throws herself in front of a goddamn car!” “She wanted to die to prove a point to me! What was I supposed to do, get on my knees and beg her to live?” “Whether she lives or dies has nothing to do with me! I’m not her fucking mother!” My tirade seemed to stun him into silence. He stammered, “That’s not possible, Willow would never…” “She would never what?” I was incandescent with rage, my pointing finger trembling. “You two are a match made in hell. One of you is certifiably insane, and the other is dumber than a bag of rocks. You’re both sick, and it’s not the curable kind.” “You, Ken! The only reason this woman thinks she can pull this shit is because you let her! You know she’s unstable, but you enable her every single time!” “She acts out, you feel sorry for her! She throws a tantrum, you give in! She cuts her wrists, you abandon your fiancée to hold her hand!” “And now she tries to get herself killed in the middle of the street, and you come flying in to be her white knight! Again!” “If you cared about her this damn much, why did you ever chase after me? Why did you drag me into this cesspool with you?” My aim shifted to Willow, who flinched and buried her face deeper into Ken’s chest. “And you! What can you possibly do besides threaten people with your own pathetic life? Slicing your wrists wasn’t dramatic enough, so you moved on to playing chicken with cars? You think the world revolves around you? That if you die, we’ll all just stop and mourn?” “Let me tell you something! If you’re going to die, do it right. Find a quiet place where no one can see you and get it over with. And stop fucking bothering me. The sight of you two makes me sick.” “You are perfect for each other. You should be welded together. I wish you a long and miserable life together, haunting each other until the end of time. Just stay out of my world.” Screaming it all out felt like I’d finally vomited up a poison that had been choking me for years. But the relief was followed by a deeper, more profound exhaustion and a chilling emptiness. The world went silent. The only sounds were Willow’s muffled sobs and Ken’s ragged breathing. His face was a thundercloud, his arms locked around her. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He just stared at me with a look I’d never seen before—shock, humiliation, and maybe, just maybe, the pained recognition of a truth he couldn’t deny. From the safety of his arms, Willow shot me a venomous glare, a toxic mix of fear and hatred. Ken’s voice was a low rasp, thick with an authority I no longer recognized. “Apologize. Aria, you knew she was unwell, and you provoked her. You will apologize to Willow. Now.” “Even though you’re my fiancée, you can’t be this cruel.” “‘Fiancée’? Apologize?” A hysterical laugh bubbled up from my chest. “Ken, do I need to remind you that our engagement party was cut short because the woman in your arms decided to bleed all over the bathroom? The ceremony never finished. We are broken up.” “You’re calling me your fiancée now? Are you delusional? And you want me to apologize to this professional victim? You’re sicker than she is.” I took one last, deep breath, my eyes sweeping over the tableau they made—the tragic, clinging couple, persecuted by the whole world. It was nauseatingly ironic. “Remember what I said. The two of you, locked together. Stay the hell away from me.” I turned, pushed through the gawking onlookers, and walked away, my back straight, my head held high. Behind me, I heard Ken’s voice, a low growl of fury. “Aria, stop right there! I told you, I don’t agree to this breakup! You are still my fiancée!” I didn’t listen. There was only one thought in my head: Go. Now. Get away from this hell. Perhaps the universe was listening. A few days later, I was called into a meeting with upper management. Due to a major expansion, they needed someone to head up the new southern branch office. It was a huge opportunity, a massive challenge, and required at least a year’s commitment. Without a moment’s hesitation, I said, “I’ll do it.” 06 As the plane climbed into the clouds, leaving the city of suffocating memories behind, I finally felt it—a fragile, post-traumatic sense of relief. The world outside my window was a sea of white, a blank slate. The southern air was warm and humid, scented with flowers I didn’t recognize. The new job was a chaotic whirlwind, and the busyness was the best anesthetic I could have asked for. I thought distance and time would be enough to bury the absurdity of my past life. I changed my number, blocked Ken on every platform, and severed every tie to my old life. Then, one night, after a late shift at the office, I was scrolling through my social media feed in my new apartment. A link, shared frantically by a mutual acquaintance I’d almost forgotten, caught my eye. It was a live stream. The headline was a punch to the gut: “HEARTBROKEN STERLING CORP HEIR THREATENS JUMP! BEGS EX-FIANCÉE TO TAKE HIM BACK!”

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To maintain her “single and unattached” persona in the entertainment world, my mother abandoned me in a remote mountain village for eighteen years. I was ten when I overheard my aunt and uncle talking and learned for the first time that my mother was a famous actress. In my first-ever computer class in middle school, my clumsy fingers typed out her name: “Laura Lane.” I watched a video of the glamorous celebrity, her arm draped affectionately around a young girl’s shoulders, announcing that she was adopting the girl as her goddaughter. She promised to treat her like her own flesh and blood. The little girl was moved to tears. They hugged, a perfect picture of mother-daughter devotion. My own eyes burning, I clicked the video closed. Eight years later, I was accepted into Ashton University. On the very first day, I ran into Laura Lane. And with her, the goddaughter she’d claimed in front of the world, a rising starlet named Crystal Liu. 1 It was the first day of orientation at Ashton University. And the first time I had ever seen her in person. My biological mother, Laura Lane. She had just stepped out of a luxury car, but even with the dark sunglasses hiding her eyes, I recognized her instantly. The designer bags, the entourage of assistants buzzing around her—she was the living embodiment of glamour and extravagance. I watched from a distance as she directed her assistants, then wrapped an arm around a young woman and disappeared into the dormitory building. Only then did I slowly start to follow. My hand had just touched the doorknob of my dorm room when I heard a soft, melodramatic complaint from inside. “Darling, this room is so small and shabby. You’ll have to rough it for a while. As soon as orientation is over, we’ll move you out of here.” So, the girl she was doting on was my new roommate. Great. I opened the door, and another girl in the room immediately started the introductions. “This is Crystal Liu, our new roommate, and this is her godmother, Ms. Lane.” “Ms. Lane, the famous actress! We’re so lucky to have you here today!” “And Crystal, haven’t you been in a bunch of TV shows? You’re practically America’s sweetheart.” “You two are just stunning. A real-life goddess mother-daughter duo.” Amidst the chorus of fawning, I gave them a cool nod. Laura’s eyes swept over me, her gaze dripping with disdain as she took in my faded, worn-out clothes. The contempt was palpable. She turned to her assistant, her voice laced with a saccharine poison clearly meant for me. “I hear there are so many neglected children from the countryside these days. It just goes to show, without parents to raise them properly, they don’t even learn basic manners.” The other girls in the room shifted uncomfortably. I stood there silently, a bitter mix of amusement and a familiar ache blooming in my chest. Did she not realize her insult ricocheted right back at her? Here we were, mother and daughter, face to face and complete strangers. The psychic connection that movie mothers always had with their long-lost children was, apparently, a complete fabrication. Crystal, however, had been staring at me for a while, her eyes glittering with undisguised jealousy. As a fellow young woman trying to make it in an industry built on looks, her focus was different from Laura’s. She wasn’t looking at my clothes; she was looking at my face. Laura had made a career out of her beauty, but I had inherited her best features and improved upon them, likely thanks to my unknown biological father. My face was small and delicate, with features that were almost unnervingly perfect. My appearance had clearly triggered a deep sense of insecurity in her. A natural animosity radiated from her. So, after Laura’s little speech, she put on a show of fake concern. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “My godmother wasn’t talking about you.” I lowered my gaze, refusing to meet her eyes. “I know she wasn’t,” I said quietly. “Because I’m an orphan.” The room fell silent. My other roommates looked at me with a mixture of pity and awkwardness, their gazes flicking meaningfully toward Laura and Crystal. Crystal quickly tried to change the subject. “Right. So, what’s your name?” I glanced at Laura, who was pretending to be engrossed in directing her assistants to make Crystal’s bed, and raised my voice just enough for her to hear clearly. “My name is Briar.” At the name, Laura, who had been pointedly ignoring me, whipped her head around. Her face paled, and her voice was strained when she spoke. “Briar? How do you spell that?” A small, knowing smile touched my lips. “Like the tree. My guardian said she hoped I would grow strong and resilient, with deep roots and branches reaching for the sun. A beautiful sentiment, don’t you think?” Her expression remained strained, but a flicker of relief crossed her features. “Yes,” she said, the words forced. “A lovely meaning.” I accepted her hollow compliment with a polite nod, wondering if she was thinking, just for a second, of the child she had abandoned thousands of miles away. The one she had named Squeak. 2 I knew from a very young age that I was an abandoned child, taken in by my aunt and uncle. For years, I clung to the naive fantasy that my real mother would one day come back for me. I even made excuses for her, imagining she had her reasons, that she had no other choice. That fantasy shattered when I discovered she was a famous actress. She could have afforded to keep me. The simple, brutal truth was that she just didn’t want me. I also knew, from a young age, that I had an ugly name. Whenever my aunt was angry, she would beat me, her words as sharp as her blows. “Squeak! You little sewer rat! Do you know why you’re named Squeak? Because your mother never wanted to see you! She wanted you to spend your whole life hiding in the gutter like a rodent, never able to climb out! Ha!” I didn’t want to believe her. But when I found out my mother was a celebrity, it all made a sick kind of sense. Laura Lane wanted me to live my life in the shadows, scurrying and silent, never getting in her way. She didn’t just abandon me; she branded me with a name meant to keep me down. I was relentlessly bullied for it. Adults and children alike treated me like vermin. The neglect and abuse from my aunt and uncle left me scrawny and small for my age. Until middle school, everyone called me “Dead Rat” or “Filth.” The constant verbal abuse and social ostracism made my life a living hell. Then, in middle school, I met the first true angel of my life: my homeroom teacher, Ms. Gable. She was a kind, wise woman who saw past the grime and the name. When she learned about the bullying, she suggested I change my name. I had no idea that was even possible. I was hesitant. I hated the name, but it was the only link I had to the woman who gave birth to me. So Ms. Gable helped me. She changed “Squeak” to “Briar.” She told me I had a gift for learning and that she hoped I would grow into a strong, resilient woman, bearing fruit for the world. For the first time, I had a name with a beautiful meaning. And my life began to change. When I finished middle school, my aunt and uncle refused to let me continue my education. But Ms. Gable came to our house and argued with them. She even offered to pay for my high school tuition and living expenses out of her own pocket. Because of her, I was able to finish. After graduation, I lied to my aunt and uncle. I told them I’d failed my entrance exams and was moving to another state to work in a factory, promising to send them money every month. That was the only way I could escape to attend university. The state I’d named was a world away from Ashton City. In their minds, I would never cross paths with Laura Lane. After all, the hush money she sent them every year was substantial. They never would have dreamed that I would not only come to her city but run into her on my very first day. 3 Laura was visibly uncomfortable. The name Briar clearly bothered her. She quickly pulled Crystal away, stopping her from talking to me any further. She then produced an armful of expensive skincare products from her bag, reminding Crystal to use sunscreen religiously during orientation to protect her skin for an upcoming audition. At the mention of an audition, my roommates’ ears perked up, and they crowded around, full of questions. Laura and Crystal basked in the attention, their faces glowing with self-satisfaction. “Our Crystal was personally invited to audition by Director Kane’s team,” Laura announced proudly, her arm around Crystal’s shoulders. “It’s a massive project, adapted from a bestselling novel, with A-list stars already attached. It’s going to be a huge hit. And the role Crystal is auditioning for is incredibly endearing. She’s going to gain a massive fanbase.” She patted Crystal’s cheek affectionately. “My sweet, talented girl. You’re amazing.” Watching their nauseatingly intimate performance, I took a deep breath and looked away. Laura spoke as if the role was already Crystal’s. Director Kane… I dug a crumpled business card out of my backpack. I remembered the middle-aged man who had stopped me at the university gates, pressing it into my hand. I typed his full name, Michael Kane, into my phone’s search bar. Sure enough, news articles popped up about his new film, the very one Laura had been boasting about. I was stunned. Was this fate? Karma? A wild, unbelievable stroke of luck? I couldn’t articulate the feeling swirling in my gut. But if the universe was handing me an opportunity on a silver platter, who was I to refuse? I opened my contacts and added Director Kane. 4 I thought seeing Laura in person meant I was finally over it, that I could be indifferent. But that night, a dream proved me wrong. In the dream, a blurry figure held me gently. “Sweetheart, open your eyes. It’s Mommy.” Her warmth was like the winter sun, and I instinctively snuggled closer. No one had ever called me sweetheart. In the dream, I was a baby again, my entire being steeped in a honeyed bliss. I was floating, soft and warm, bubbling with a happiness I had never known. So this is what it felt like to be cherished. It was intoxicating. Mommy. I wanted to see her, the mother who loved me. I struggled to open my eyes. And I saw Laura Lane, her face twisted with venom. Her hands closed around my neck. “You jinx! If it weren’t for you, I would have been a superstar by now! You curse! You deserve to live your entire life in the shadows!” “No… no… Mommy…” I cried, struggling against her grip. The scene shifted. My drunken uncle was dragging me by the wrists into a room like I was a stray dog. My aunt was right behind him, beating me with a broom, screaming that I was a worthless little slut, trying to seduce men at such a young age. She managed to pull me away from him, and terrified, bruised, and bleeding, I ran out of the house and toward town. I didn’t know where to go. Ms. Gable found me wandering near the school and took me home. The dream ended with the image of her son, Alex, frowning at the sight of the dirty, battered girl standing on his doorstep. The intense shame and despair jolted me awake. My pillow was soaked with tears. 5 Not long after I contacted Director Kane, he called me in for an audition. Two weeks of orientation had left most of the students with a tan, but luckily, my skin doesn’t burn easily. After a brief reading, he clapped me on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “It’s like this role was written for you,” he said. From the short script I was given, I gathered that the character was a supporting role—a girl who was swapped at birth at the hospital, abused by her adoptive parents, but who, through sheer force of will, clawed her way out of the mud alongside the female lead. She eventually reunites with her wealthy biological parents and becomes the lead’s greatest ally. It was a fantastic character arc. Director Kane had a reputation for a reason; his eye for talent was sharp. It was uncanny how he had picked me out of a crowd, a girl who shared the character’s background and, to some extent, her life story. He kept the casting decision under wraps, so Crystal had no idea the role had already been filled. That evening in the dorm, she was doing her skincare routine and boasting about her audition the next day. “I’ll treat everyone to bubble tea when I get back to celebrate,” she announced. One of my roommates, Sasha, who was a local from Ashton City, was getting tired of Crystal’s constant bragging about a role she didn’t even have yet. “Hey, Crystal,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, “why don’t you take Briar with you to the audition? She’s even prettier than you are. Maybe the director will give her a part too. Then we’ll have two celebrities in our dorm!” Crystal’s face contorted with rage at Sasha’s blunt comparison. “It takes more than a pretty face to be an actress,” she sneered. “Briar has no training and no connections. But if she’s interested, I could probably get her a role as an extra. She could start by playing a corpse. You have to start small, you know.” The “playing a corpse” line was a deliberate, pathetic attempt to humiliate me. “That sounds great,” I replied with a bright smile. “I’ve actually been reading up on acting lately. If an opportunity like that comes up, don’t forget about me!” I knew perfectly well she would never lift a finger to help me. The next day, Laura came to the university to pick Crystal up for the audition. For some reason, she seemed even more invested in this role than Crystal was. I pulled out my phone and texted Director Kane, asking if I could come to the set to observe. He readily agreed, joking that they were casting my character’s parents today, so I might as well come and see if I had any chemistry with the actors. As I approached the studio, I saw Laura and Crystal waiting outside. Laura was fussing over Crystal, straightening her hair, smoothing her clothes, playing the part of the devoted, anxious mother to perfection. When Crystal finally went inside and was handed the script, her face fell. It wasn’t the script for the supportive best friend. It was for the bitchy, backstabbing villain. She stumbled through the audition. Her dazed, confused state actually worked for the character, and the director was surprisingly pleased with her performance. He was ready to offer her the part on the spot. Crystal stammered that she wanted to try for the other role, and only then did the director inform her it had already been cast. Later, Laura came in to audition as well, and I finally understood why she was so obsessed with Crystal getting that part. She wanted to play the main character’s mother. With their carefully curated “mother-daughter” brand, if Crystal had landed the role of the best friend, Laura would have been a shoo-in for the part of her wealthy, elegant mother. But now, with Crystal cast as the villain, the director offered Laura the role of the villain’s mother—a crass, abusive, lower-class shrew. The two roles were polar opposites. One was a sophisticated society lady; the other was a vulgar harpy. Playing the latter would completely destroy the image Laura had spent years building. She was torn. She couldn’t bear to miss out on such a high-profile project, but she was terrified of what the role would do to her career. The look of tortured indecision on her face was almost comical. I sat among the crew, my face hidden by a mask. Neither of them saw me. Afterward, I was about to slip out the back when I overheard them whispering. “I’ve already asked around,” Laura was saying, trying to soothe a fuming Crystal. “No one got the script for the other role today. It’s probably not officially cast yet. When the director comes out, we’ll try to talk to him again.” “Godmother, I already told all my fans I was playing the good girl!” Crystal whined, pushing Laura’s hand away. “They’ve already started promoting it online! How am I supposed to explain that I’m now some nameless, evil side character?” “Don’t worry, darling,” Laura said, her voice tight with anxiety. “I know people. As long as the studio hasn’t made an official announcement, we can still figure something out.” As I walked past them, Crystal glanced at my retreating back. “Godmother, doesn’t that person look a little like my roommate, Briar?” Laura scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. What would that country bumpkin be doing here? Probably trying to get a job as an extra. Let’s not even talk about her. She’s bad luck.”

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In our circle, Larry was famous for being completely obsessed with his fiancée. For me. He’d rejected a strategic marriage arranged by his family and spent three years showering me with affection. But at his bachelor party, just before our wedding, the girl he never got over asked him, “If I crashed your wedding, would you leave with me?” He looked at her, his voice deadly serious, and said, “Yes.” Biting back tears, I sent a text to my best friend, the heiress to a billion-dollar fortune. 【Can you get me out of here? As fast as possible.】 Seven minutes later, she arrived, her Bugatti screaming to a halt, the tires practically smoking. “I told you,” she fumed, “a girl with your looks and personality should be marrying into old money and living a life of luxury! My brother is gorgeous, my dad’s still a silver fox. Take your pick!” 1 With the wedding just around the corner, Larry’s childhood friends threw him a massive bachelor party. Everyone in his circle knew how devoted he was to me. If I wasn’t with him, he’d be home by ten, regardless of whether the party was still going. So this time, they made sure to invite me too. But the moment I walked in, something felt off. Everyone greeted me with big smiles, but they were shooting subtle, knowing glances at Larry. I couldn’t figure it out. After we were all seated, a girl with a sharp, short haircut hurried in. “Sorry, guys! The traffic was a nightmare.” She was tall and slender, her voice bright and confident. Beside me, Larry froze. It was the first time I had ever seen an expression on someone’s face that so perfectly mirrored a heart skipping a beat. The girl extended a hand to me, her smile wide. “You must be the bride-to-be! It’s great to meet you. I’m Joyce.” The name hit me like a physical blow. Suddenly, everything made sense. This was Joyce. The one that got away. The girl Larry had been in love with for five years. The stories were legendary. Back then, Larry wasn’t the calm, steady man I knew. He had pursued her with a reckless passion, arranging thousands of roses on the lawn beneath her window and setting off a hundred meters of fireworks along a private beach, all for her. His entire youth had been a monument to his love for Joyce. But three years ago, she had left him behind without a second thought, following another guy to study abroad. That was when I met Larry. He’d walked toward me through the hazy, dim lights of a crowded bar. I’d only had half a glass of wine, but I felt drunk on his presence alone. I immediately started grilling my friends for information about him. When they finally pushed me in front of him, my tongue was tied in knots. “My name is Chloe,” I’d stammered. “And you are… Mr. Larry?” The table erupted in laughter. And for the first time in months, the permanent frown on Larry’s face smoothed into a genuine smile. After we got together, Larry poured all of his tenderness into our relationship. He memorized every single thing I loved and hated to eat. He insisted on picking me up from work himself, no matter how late I stayed. Every holiday, every anniversary, was marked by a thoughtful, perfect gift. He posted photos of me all over his social media and introduced me to every last one of his friends and family. Even his friends were jealous. “Someone else planted the tree, but Chloe gets to enjoy the shade,” they’d tease. “You really lucked out. Larry chased the most difficult girl in the world and came out of it with a master’s degree in relationships. Now you get to reap all the benefits.” Their words never bothered me. Because they always added that I was nothing like her, not in looks, not in personality. I wasn’t a replacement. And more importantly, I could feel it. I knew Larry loved me. After three years of intense, passionate love, he had proposed. I thought our story was heading for its happy ending. But right then, reality delivered a crushing blow. 2 Joyce sat down beside me without any awkwardness, pulling a bottle of perfume from her purse and handing it to me. “A wedding gift,” she said, her eyes crinkling into a smile. “The scent is incredibly sophisticated. I’ve been wearing it for almost eight years and never gotten tired of it.” I had to admit, she was charming. Graceful, with an infectious personality. She’d even brought a gift for me, not for Larry. I accepted it with a thank you. Then she pulled out her phone. “Let’s connect on social media. If Larry ever gives you any trouble, you come straight to me. We may have grown up together, but I’m not on his side. I’ll always have your back.” Her declaration earned a round of applause from the table. “That’s our Joyce! Still the queen!” someone cheered. Joyce paused, then looked past me to Larry, who was sitting on my other side. “Hey, you. What’s your deal? It’s been three years. Cat got your tongue?” Around us, people kept drinking and eating, but their eyes were glued to the three of us, hungry for the drama they knew was coming. I could see the tips of Larry’s ears turning a deep shade of red. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her. He just clutched his glass, attempting a joke. “It’s not that. We’ve just grown apart. I don’t know what to say.” Joyce laughed. “So it’s my fault for not keeping in touch?” She raised her glass to him. “Then let’s make sure we stay in touch from now on.” Larry glanced at me quickly before replying, “I’m under strict management these days. If you want to talk to me, you’ll have to go through an extra step: get approval from my fiancée first.” They both smiled, a silent truce passing between them as their glasses clinked. Everything was out in the open, no hidden meanings, no secrets. But for some reason, sitting between them, I felt a suffocating pressure in my chest. Maybe it was because after three years, I knew Larry’s body language like the back of my hand. And tonight, he was radiating pure, unadulterated nervousness. The night wore on with drinks, songs, and stupid party games. By the end, everyone was a little drunk. Larry lost a round of rock-paper-scissors to Joyce and chose “Truth.” Joyce, who had been the picture of grace all evening, suddenly let her mask slip. She tilted her head, her voice a playful, drunken purr. “If I crashed your wedding and asked you to leave with me, would you go?” The question detonated in the already rowdy atmosphere. The table erupted. “Oh, finally! Took you two all night to stop pretending!” “Now this is more like it!” “Come on, Larry! Answer the question! Would you go with her?” Larry’s eyes were bloodshot from the alcohol. He stared at Joyce, a storm of emotions swirling in his gaze. Then, with devastating earnestness, he said, “Yes.” The group exploded. “HOLY SHIT! I KNEW IT!” “CRASH THE WEDDING! CRASH THE WEDDING!” Their cheers drew the attention of the entire bar. I sat frozen between them, my breath catching in my throat, my hands starting to tremble. I had no idea how to handle this public humiliation. Using the excuse of needing the restroom, I fled. Fighting back tears, I texted my best friend, Zara. 【Can you get me out of here? As fast as possible.】 Her call came instantly. “What’s wrong? Did those assholes do something to you?” “No, just… don’t ask. Can you just come get me?” My voice was already cracking. Hearing the panic, Zara’s voice sharpened. “Stay put. I’m on my way. Ten minutes. No, seven!” “You don’t have to rush. Drive safe.” “Don’t tell me what to do!” 3 Seven minutes later, Zara’s Bugatti screeched up to the curb, a chariot of fire and fury. The moment I saw her, the dam broke, and my eyes filled with tears. She grabbed my hand, her voice tight with rage. “What the hell did you people do to her?! And Larry, are you dead? Can’t you see how upset she is?” Zara was the heiress to the Vance fortune, and she carried herself with an imperious aura that could silence a room. Her arrival immediately subdued the rowdy crowd. Then her gaze fell on Joyce, and her eyes turned to daggers. “Oh. So you’re here.” Joyce stood up and tried to put a comforting arm around me, her smile cloyingly sweet. “We were just playing a game. Don’t tell me you actually got upset? I can be a little blunt sometimes. It’s my first time hanging out with someone so… delicate. I guess I didn’t read the room right. My bad.” Zara yanked me behind her. “Don’t you touch her. And you’re not blunt, you’re just a bitch who plays dumb.” By now, Larry had sobered up a little. He rubbed his temples and stood. “Chloe’s tired. I should take her home.” Zara laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “I’m here now. Why would she need you? Go back to playing dead.” The others stood around awkwardly as Zara started gathering my things. She muttered under her breath as she stuffed my purse. “I told you. A girl with your looks and temperament should be marrying into an old-money family and living a pampered life. But no, you had to go and slum it with the nouveau riche. Their world is full of backstabbing and two-faced phonies. It’s no place for a sweet, genuine person like you.” Larry’s family was worth hundreds of millions. Calling them nouveau riche was a unique kind of insult, but coming from Zara Vance, no one dared to argue. After packing my bag, she spotted the elegantly wrapped perfume bottle inside. Without a word, she pulled it out and tossed it onto the floor. “What is this outdated junk? The nerve of some people, giving this as a gift.” The bottle rolled across the floor and came to a stop at Joyce’s feet. The smile was wiped clean from her face. Zara pulled me toward the door. Larry rushed after us, grabbing my arm. “Chloe, don’t be angry. It was the atmosphere, the drinks… She just threw that question at me, and my mind went blank.” I looked into his eyes, once so full of love, and felt all my strength drain away. “Are you trying to say it was just a reflex? That it came from your heart? That you truly want to be with her?” “Of course not! Chloe, it was a game. If I had said no, she would have been completely humiliated in front of all our friends.” “So to protect her pride, you were willing to grind mine into the dust?” “I gave her a polite answer,” he insisted. “I’m giving you a marriage.” I pulled my arm away, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Oh, so I’m the lucky one? Larry, we’ve been together for three years, and I never realized you were such a master at playing both sides.” Just then, Zara pulled the car around and laid on the horn. Larry tried to grab my arm again. “Let me take you home. We can talk on the way.” Zara scowled. “If you’ve got so much free time, why don’t you take that electric Bentley of yours and drive for Uber for a few hours? Maybe it’ll clear your head.” Larry froze. For the first time, his prized car had become a source of shame. I opened the passenger door and got in. I turned back to look at him one last time. “The wedding is off,” I said, my voice clear and steady. “I think we both have some serious thinking to do.” 4 On the way home, I mindlessly scrolled through my social media feed and saw two new posts from Joyce. The first: 【She’s nothing like me. Not one bit. But don’t you think that just makes it all the more obvious?】 The second: 【If you spent the last three years trying to prove that I was wrong to leave you, then congratulations. You’ve succeeded.】 The emotions I’d been suppressing all night finally shattered. I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. I mourned the three years of genuine love I had poured into a lie. I had believed Larry’s meticulous, all-consuming devotion was born from love. I was wrong. It was all a performance for her. I was just a pawn in their high-stakes game of emotional manipulation. Zara was not the kind of girl who offered gentle reassurances. She was a problem solver. “Stop crying,” she said bluntly. “There are plenty of men in the world. Just get a new one. My brother is gorgeous, and my dad’s still a silver fox. Take your pick!” Her absurd offer made me laugh through my tears. “Zara, I feel so useless. Even now, I need you to fight my battles for me.” She patted my head gently. “Don’t be stupid. Everyone’s different. Our mom died when we were young, and the three of us who were left behind… we’re not exactly normal. We don’t know how to express love. I was a rebellious nightmare growing up. There aren’t many times I actually get to be useful. “But you,” she continued, her voice softening, “you’re a literal angel. Every day with you feels like a warm spring breeze. You’re the best doctor in the city, the only one who can give a shot without it hurting. When I was stuck in the hospital, if you hadn’t been there every day, patiently cheering me up, I never would have made it through.” Her words were a balm to my shattered self-esteem. “Seriously though,” she said, “are you really not going to consider marrying into my family?” She had said this many times before. I’d met Zara when she was hospitalized for an illness. The hospital director was officially her attending physician, and I was his assistant. But because I had a gentle bedside manner and gave painless injections, Zara threw her weight around and demanded I be made her primary doctor. We’d been inseparable ever since. I was already dating Larry at the time, a fact Zara lamented daily. “Why couldn’t I have gotten sick a few months earlier! You were still single then! I could have brought you home to be my sister-in-law!” The innocent bystander in these fantasies was Julian—Zara’s older brother, who had flown home from his studies abroad specifically to visit her. He had not been amused. Thanks to her relentless campaign, my relationship with Julian had started and remained at absolute zero. Whenever we crossed paths, I’d stare at the floor in embarrassment while he’d stare at the ceiling. We were masters of mutual avoidance. Recently, Julian had returned from abroad for good and had taken a position at my hospital. In the office right next to mine. The arrival of the brilliant, aloof, and devastatingly handsome doctor had sent the entire hospital into a frenzy. Nurses and doctors alike found excuses to walk past his office. The number of people calling in sick dropped dramatically. I, on the other hand, had started holding my bladder all day, terrified of running into him in the hallway. Seeing my silence, Zara’s eyes lit up. “You’re quiet. Does that mean you’re seriously considering it? So, who’s it gonna be? My brother or my dad?” My mouth twitched. “If those are my only two options, I’d rather take your dad.” Zara beamed. “Excellent! That’s what I was thinking too! He’s older, so he’ll die sooner. You’ll inherit everything, and we can spend our days hiring male models! My brother’s no good. He’s a health nut, works out all the time… I’m afraid you won’t outlive him.” “…”

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I was the girl who was always second best, a permanent joke. The golden girl’s grades? She was number one, year after year. She was born into the city’s most powerful family, the Hales, a world away from me. Even my own mother worked as their housekeeper. To claw my way out of that life, I bound myself to the Exchange System. 【Congratulations, Host, on binding with the Exchange System. You have one, and only one, opportunity to make an exchange.】 “Can I exchange anything?” I asked it. “Even final exam scores?” 【Of course. Please designate your exchange target.】 “Melody Hale.” But it wasn’t her scores I was after. I wanted something far more precious. 1 The moment the words left my lips, I saw Melody Hale, standing a short distance away, clench her fists. Her eyes shot toward me, filled with a familiar blend of contempt and amusement. It was true then. Just as the Live Comments had said, she could hear my conversations with the System. My mother was her family’s housekeeper, but she saved her harshest words for me, always in defense of Melody. “Miss Melody was born with a silver spoon. Who do you think you are, trying to compete with her for first place?” When my mother found out Melody’s little clique had locked me in a bathroom stall, bullying me until I bruised, she just shrugged. “You must have done something to upset Miss Melody. She wouldn’t lash out for no reason. You were born worthless, so stop acting so damn precious.” For years, I told myself my mother was just desperate to keep her job at the Hale mansion, that her fawning over Melody was a survival tactic. Then the Live Comments appeared, floating in my vision, telling me the truth: 【The side character is so tragic. She’s the real heiress, swapped at birth out of pure malice. That housekeeper mom of hers? That’s Melody’s real mother…】 【Tragic? Are you kidding me? She gets what she deserves! She tried to take the easy way out, swapping final scores with our precious Melody. Good thing our girl was one step ahead and deliberately bombed the exam, leaving her with nothing!】 【Just wait until after the finals, when the side character is ‘welcomed’ back by the Hales. Her real parents will be so ashamed of her. Our brilliant Melody will crush her in every way! So what if she’s the real heiress? Unloved, isolated, and ending up depressed and taking her own life is exactly what she has coming!】 Isolated? Depressed? Taking my own life? Too bad for them. None of that was going to happen. Because I never wanted Melody Hale’s exam scores. I wanted something far more valuable. 2 During the break between classes, Melody sauntered over to my desk, a malicious grin playing on her lips. “Pearl Stone. Still number two, I see. Need some help? Anything you don’t understand, I’d be happy to teach you.” Pearl Stone. That was the name my mother gave me. I’d fought against it once, telling her it sounded drab and ugly, a name easy to mock. She’d sneered. “Getting too big for your britches, are we? You think you’re too good for the name I gave you? You’re bad luck, a curse that killed your father the moment you were born. Naming you Pearl was a kindness! How dare you complain?” Because of that name, Melody’s friends had cornered me in the bathroom more times than I could count. They’d drag me to a stall, trying to shove my head toward the filthy water. “Your name is Pearl Stone? Here, have a taste of this toilet bowl!” The smile on Melody’s face back then… it was identical to the one she wore now. I lowered my gaze, avoiding her eyes. “No, thank you. Your time is precious, Miss Hale. You should focus on your own studies.” “Oh, Pearl, how thoughtful of you,” Melody chirped, her eyes lighting up with a knowing gleam. She thought my advice was proof. She thought I was telling her to study hard so I’d have a high score to steal. And she was more than happy to play along, setting the stage for my ultimate failure. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” she leaned in conspiratorially. “I won’t be coming to school after today. The teachers here are too slow. My parents hired five elite tutors for me, one-on-one sessions to target my weaknesses. By the time the final exams roll around, the gap between us will be much, much bigger than this.” Her face was a mask of smug triumph, and the Live Comments erupted in praise: 【Melody is a genius! Pretending she hired five tutors to make the side character think she’s studying like crazy. It’s the perfect bait to make sure she goes through with the score swap!】 【In reality, our girl isn’t studying at all! She’s about to kick back and live her best life, leaving the side character with a big fat zero!】 【Who cares anyway? As a Hale, Melody can buy her way into any university in the world. This is the ultimate power move! Love it!】 And just as they predicted, Melody stopped coming to school. Following a tip from the Comments, I snuck out one night and saw her at a downtown club. She was wrapped up with a group of guys with cheap blond dye jobs and bad reputations. They flirted under the hazy, pulsing lights, their inhibitions washed away by alcohol. Then, their lips met, and they stumbled out toward a nearby motel to lose themselves in each other. I watched, and said nothing. We were adults now. We all had to live with the consequences of our choices. My choice was to remain in my baggy uniform and thick-rimmed glasses, my life a straight line between my tiny apartment and the school library. With Melody gone, there was no more bullying. I finally had the peace to study. But I knew her spies were everywhere in our class. So I put on a show. I acted lazy, disinterested. I was the first to leave when the bell rang, only to find an abandoned, dusty classroom where I could study in secret until dark. If Melody wanted to play a game, I would play it with her. I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she realized her final score was never, ever exchanged. 3 The day of the finals arrived. I walked to the exam center alone. At the school gates, I saw her. Melody was surrounded by an entourage. Mr. and Mrs. Hale were there, and… my mother, Fiona Stone. They fussed over Melody, their eyes overflowing with a love and affection so thick you could almost touch it. Fiona had never once looked at me that way. In fact, for the six months leading up to the most important exam of my life, she hadn’t come home at all. She left me alone in our crumbling slum apartment to dedicate herself completely to Melody’s care, cooking her meals and managing her schedule. She hadn’t left me a single dollar. If it weren’t for the money I’d secretly saved from part-time jobs over the past two years, I don’t know how I would have survived. But in a way, it was a blessing. When Fiona was home, she was always ordering me around, finding chores for me to do, anything to keep me from my books. She treated me like an enemy, terrified I might one day surpass Melody. I never understood why. But seeing the Comments, seeing this scene unfold before me… it all made perfect, painful sense. 【I almost feel sorry for the side character… Her own mother worships Melody and treats her like dirt. And even when she finally gets back to her real family, her biological parents can’t stand her. Her whole life is just a story of being unloved…】 【I don’t care, what she did was wrong! Besides, without her trying to swap scores, we wouldn’t get to see our girl’s epic takedown!】 【But… is she really going to swap the scores? She looked like she was studying her ass off before the exams. She didn’t seem lazy at all… It’s Melody who was messing around with those guys. I have a bad feeling she’s the one who’s actually fallen behind…】 A small smile touched my lips. Finally, someone in the Comments was starting to get it. But when Melody saw my smile, she interpreted it differently. “Pearl Stone!” she called out, waving her hand high above the crowd. Her voice cut through the nervous chatter, and heads turned, whispers and snickers following their gazes. “Pearl Stone, what are you smiling about?” she chirped, bouncing over to me like a carefree fawn. “Feeling that confident about the exams?” I kept my expression neutral. “It’s fine. You?” “Do you even need to ask? I had one-on-one tutoring with the best. Besides,” she added, her voice dripping with condescension, “you’ve never beaten me before, have you?” She was practically glowing with confidence, doing everything she could to lure me into the trap. I offered her a piece of sincere advice. “Melody, you really need to do your best on this.” She shot me a sly, knowing grin. “Of course. Just for you, I promise I’ll do my very, very best.” “Alright, that’s enough—” Fiona rushed over, positioning herself between me and Melody like a mother hen shielding her chick. She was terrified I’d somehow ruin everything. “Pearl Stone, you worthless thing, don’t you dare distract Miss Melody before her exam! Get lost!” Mr. and Mrs. Hale followed, their eyes sweeping over my worn-out clothes and plain features with undisguised disapproval. “Melody, darling, let’s get you inside. Don’t let unsavory people affect your focus.” And there it was. My very first meeting with my biological parents. Thank God for the Comments. They had already shown me the tragic future that awaited me after our reunion. Because I expected nothing from the Hales, I felt no disappointment. Without another word, I turned and walked toward my exam hall. After eighteen years of suppression and silent endurance, this was my moment. And I was going to win. 4 In the exam room, my focus was absolute. When the final bell rang, I capped my pen with a sense of finality, like a warrior sheathing his sword after a long battle. At the same time, the Comments kept me updated on Melody’s performance. 【Our girl Melody is so chill! She slept through the entire exam, even drooled a little! So cute!】 【Ahhh, I can’t wait to see the side character’s face when the scores are swapped and she sees her zero! Go, Melody, go!】 【Wait, are you guys serious? The side character was writing nonstop. She didn’t look like someone planning to swap scores at all…】 It seemed Melody hadn’t taken my advice. Her academic path was now a dead end. Fortunately for me, I had no intention of letting her walk any other path either. Our homeroom teacher organized a post-exam meeting for everyone to estimate their scores. Melody was the first to announce hers. “710!” A collective gasp went through the classroom. “That’s incredible! Your highest score on the practice tests was never over 670!” our teacher exclaimed. Melody shot a triumphant look in my direction, a prim smile on her lips. “I guess I just did exceptionally well this time.” Then, she deliberately turned the attention to me. “And what about our runner-up? What’s your estimate?” “About the same as you,” I said calmly. Melody burst out laughing. “About the same? You? You could never catch up to me on the practice tests, and now you’re claiming you got a 710 too?” I nodded. “That’s right.” She didn’t believe a word of it. In her mind, I was just setting the stage, building a narrative to make the eventual score swap seem plausible. She smiled at me, her eyes full of hidden meaning. “Well, in that case, it sounds like the State Scholar will be coming from our class. For such a momentous occasion, I’ll have my father contact the media. We can do a live broadcast on score-release day.” She paused, her gaze locking onto mine. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you, Pearl Stone?” Not only did I not have a problem with it, it was exactly what I wanted. Especially since I knew that score-release day was the very day my mother, Fiona Stone, was planning to stage our grand family reunion. 5 After what felt like an eternity of anticipation for both me and the disembodied voices of the Comments, the day the scores were released finally arrived. The classroom was packed. Students, teachers, parents, and a swarm of reporters Melody had arranged were crammed into every available space. Thanks to her tireless promotion of the “State Scholar from our class” story, a huge crowd of onlookers had gathered. The Comments were buzzing. 【It doesn’t matter anyway. Melody’s acceptance to Harvard is already a done deal. She’s the star of the show, no matter what!】 【That vicious side character is about to get humiliated! All these reporters are here to watch her fall!】 【After today, even when she’s taken in by the Hales, she’ll be the family disgrace. Our Melody will walk all over her!】 One by one, students sat down at the computers. As the clock struck the hour, a chorus of shouts and groans filled the room. “621! Just what I predicted!” “Damn it! 568! I only got a 90 in English? Did I totally misread the essay prompt?” “640!” “535…” The atmosphere crackled with energy as each score was revealed. Camera flashes documented every flicker of emotion before the lenses slowly swiveled to focus on Melody and me. “We hear that two students from this class were predicted to score 710. Have you checked your results yet?” a reporter asked. Melody shot me a challenging glance before calmly typing her student ID into the keyboard. The moment her score appeared, the room erupted. A single, glaring number: 0. “Zero? How is that possible? Melody Hale has always been the top student in our year. There must be a mistake!” “Maybe they’re redacting the scores of the top 50 in the state now? Displaying them as zero?” Amidst the confusion, Melody remained perfectly composed. She looked at me, a smirk playing on her lips. “Pearl Stone, you’re more ruthless than I thought. I expected you to score low, but I never imagined you’d hand me a flat zero.” The people around us were completely bewildered. “Melody, what are you talking about?” Melody stood tall, her voice ringing with conviction. “I know this is going to sound unbelievable, but I swear on my family’s name and my own integrity that everything I’m about to say is true. Three months ago, I discovered that Pearl Stone bound herself to an Exchange System. Her goal was to swap her final exam score with mine. “She’s always been stuck in my shadow, and she decided to use this cheap trick to steal my top spot and ruin my reputation. After the exam, I deliberately said I estimated a 710, and what a coincidence, she immediately claimed the same. She was already laying the groundwork to make the switch seem believable!” Her voice rose, her eyes scanning every face in the room. “So, this zero you see? That wasn’t my score. It was the score Pearl Stone swapped with me!” Her words hit the room like a shockwave. A storm of whispers and speculation broke out. Reporters hoisted their cameras, flashes popping like fireworks. Someone started a livestream, and viewers flooded in to witness the drama. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Who would believe that?” I slowly rose to my feet, adjusting the black-rimmed glasses on my nose. My movements were calm, deliberate. “Melody, getting a zero isn’t the end of the world. You can always try again next year. You don’t have to invent such an outrageous lie to save face.” She gritted her teeth. “You know damn well whether it’s a lie or not!” “Oh? Do I?” My voice was quiet, but it cut through the noise, silencing the room. “Because I personally saw you at that club, wasting your nights away with that rough crowd. And now you’re spinning this fantasy to pin your failure on me?” The air in the classroom turned to ice. All eyes darted between me and Melody. Her pupils constricted, and she took an involuntary step back before forcing herself to stand her ground. “I was out having fun because I refused to work my ass off for a high score just so you could steal it!” She lifted her chin, a flicker of pride in her eyes. “And why would I need to frame you? I’m the heiress to the Hale Corporation. I can get into any university I want. In fact,” she declared, “I’m about to receive my official offer from Harvard.” Just then, the classroom door swung open. Mr. and Mrs. Hale strode in, followed closely by a beaming Fiona Stone. Mr. Hale, dressed in an impeccable suit, spoke with a calm authority. “That’s right. Melody has been in communication with several top international universities, all of whom have expressed great interest in her. We have received a letter of recommendation from the Dean at Harvard, and that is where we intend for her to enroll.” The Comments went into a frenzy: 【The Hales adore Melody! They’re donating an entire building to Harvard just to secure her spot!】 【Once that contract is signed, her acceptance letter is guaranteed!】 【That’s the power of money! What does the side character have to compete with that?】 Buoyed by her parents’ support, Melody’s confidence soared. “Pearl Stone, you claim I’m lying. Then why don’t you have the guts to show everyone your score right now? Let me tell you something: I slept through every single exam. You schemed and plotted, but the only thing you managed to exchange was my zero!” She turned to the cameras, her voice ringing out for all to hear. “And I want everyone here to be my witness! If Pearl Stone’s final score is also a zero, it will prove that everything I’ve said is true!” In an instant, every eye in the room was on me. They were filled with curiosity, suspicion, and a healthy dose of morbid excitement. “Well, Pearl, go on then. Check your score.” “Melody has a safety net no matter what happens. You don’t. If you really got a zero, your life is over.” Under the crushing weight of their stares, I simply smiled. “Fine. I’ll check.”

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At a high-end auction, my wife spent a staggering fifty million dollars. She bought a Celestial Relic Bead (a sacred Buddhist artifact said to contain ashes of enlightened masters), hoping to protect her young assistant. In front of a wall of reporters, she announced to the world: “Four years ago, when I was at my lowest, my ex-husband took all my money and ran off with his mistress. It was Julian who stayed by my side, who helped me claw my way back from ruin.” “Now, I am ready to repay his love a thousand times over.” The interview went viral. I became the most despised, shameless scumbag in the country. My parents called me a disgrace to the family name. Even my sister, who had always adored me, threatened to disown me. For four years, the public outrage, the vitriol, the endless condemnations never stopped. Until the day the police cracked a major dismemberment case. My sister, the captain of the homicide division, finally discovered the truth. The most brutally savaged corpse among the victims… was me. 1. When the heavily decomposed body was unearthed, several officers on site threw up. But as I looked at the lush roses blooming over my grave, a sudden, chilling realization washed over me. Just like that, four years had passed. Four years ago, my wife, Victoria, made a bad investment and her company went bankrupt. I took our three-year-old daughter with me as I ran around town, begging for loans to save her. Under the blistering summer sun, I knelt before a creditor for an entire day until he finally relented. I was just about to call Victoria with the good news when her assistant, Julian, knocked me unconscious and dragged me to an abandoned hospital. First, he burned my daughter alive right in front of me. Then, he shattered my limbs and crushed my skull. After harvesting every one of my organs, he buried what was left of me deep in the earth. Victoria came looking for me. But Julian told her I had stolen the last of the company’s funds and run off with a lover. Victoria, the woman who had sworn she loved me, believed his lies without a second thought. From that day on, she despised me. She forbade anyone from even speaking my name. She forbade anyone from searching for me. She left me for dead, wherever I might be. And so my soul was shackled to this plot of land, my makeshift grave. I couldn’t leave, and I couldn’t move on. Until today. With the case finally broken, my sister personally unearthed my remains. My fractured soul was finally able to see the light of day. And I could finally go home. I drifted to my sister’s side, hoping she would recognize me. But she simply wore her mask, methodically examining my corpse. “Same as the other victims. Limbs are intact, but all internal organs are missing.” She paused. “Wait. Something’s not right here. This one… this one is different.” Her gaze fell on my hands, and her brow furrowed. For a moment, I thought she’d found something. But then she said, “The other victims were drugged with an anesthetic before the organs were harvested. But this one… nearly every bone in his body has been broken. His fingernails have been ripped out.” She lifted my limp, ruined hand, her frown deepening. The cruel conclusion left her lips. “He was tortured to death.” The officers around her exchanged grim, sympathetic glances. My sister let out a heavy sigh. “The brutality of it… it’s monstrous.” “Have the forensics team prioritize this body. And run a detailed comparison against all missing persons reports from the last five years. I want this man’s identity confirmed as soon as possible.” After giving her orders, she stripped off her protective gear and went back to her office to review the case files. Perhaps it was the bond of blood, some unspoken connection. She glanced back at my body several times. But in the end, she didn’t recognize me. A wave of sorrow washed over me, and I was about to drift away when I saw Julian, holding Victoria’s hand, walk into the police station. My sister looked up, her reprimanding tone softened by a deep-seated affection. “What are you doing here? This place is full of unsettling things. You’re pregnant—it’s not good for you to be around this.” Victoria leaned into Julian’s embrace. “The doctor said I need to walk more. I had nothing else to do, so I thought I’d come see you.” My sister smiled. “Nothing to do? More like you can’t bear to be apart from your precious Julian. First, you buy him a fifty-million-dollar relic, and now you’re turning down multi-million-dollar contracts for him. You’re becoming quite the doting CEO, aren’t you?” Though her words were teasing, she was already brewing a cup of the floral tea she knew Julian loved. Victoria didn’t explain, only saying, “If it wasn’t for Julian back then, I never would have made it.” “Now that I can, of course, I want to give him the best of everything.” The mention of “back then” made my sister pensive. She glanced toward my body and said suddenly, “We dug up a body today. He was only in his early twenties when he died. About Ethan’s age, actually…” She was about to say more, but Victoria cut her off, her voice sharp with annoyance. Her brow was knitted in a look of pure, unadulterated disgust. “I don’t want to hear that name.” “Julian and I are getting married soon. We are family now. Some irrelevant outsider could die in a ditch, and it would have nothing to do with me!” Words so sharp they could cut. In the past, they would have broken my heart. But now, I had no mind for anything else. I could only stare at the Celestial Relic Bead around Julian’s neck as tears streamed down my face. A father knows his child. The moment Julian walked in, I felt a deep, chilling wrongness. And now I could see it clearly. What he was wearing wasn’t a relic. Those were beads made of bone. It was… my daughter. My precious little girl. 2. I floated in front of Victoria, wanting to scream, to tell her everything. That I had never betrayed her. That Julian was the one who murdered me. That the precious amulet around his neck was made from the bones of her own child. My daughter. The child I had longed for, the one she had carried for eight months. The little girl who was burned alive before she ever had a chance to understand the world. But the dead have no voice. Victoria couldn’t hear the screams of my soul. She would never know the truth of my unjust death. Her good mood ruined by the mere mention of my name, she turned to lead Julian home. Four years. Every trace of me had been scrubbed from the house. In its place were pictures of Julian. The proud, unbending Victoria I knew now wore childish cartoon pajamas for him. She would bend down to change his shoes for him. She would gently massage his shoulders, and together, they would dream about their upcoming wedding. Just like we used to. I turned away, unable to watch. But my mind was flooded with memories. When I first met Victoria, she wasn’t some powerful CEO. She was a rebellious girl with fiery red hair. She was defiant and wild, a stark contrast to my strict, conservative family. But she gave me a kind of care and attention I had never known. She would take me on motorcycle rides to clear my head. She would bring me roses. When I failed my graduate school entrance exams, she would look me in the eye and say, her voice soft but firm, “Ethan, you still have me. I’ll protect you.” “You don’t have to be a puppet for your family. With me, you can live the life you want.” Her words gave me the courage to make the first rebellious decision of my life. I gave up on retaking my exams and started a business with her. After years of hard work, we founded our own floral company. We had our very own sea of roses. Back then, we would hold each other, imagining our future. “I’m going to pave our wedding aisle with roses,” she’d said. “I’ll put the most brilliant ring on your finger and give you everything you’ve ever wanted.” But that dreamlike wedding never happened. Between my family’s opposition and the demands of our growing business, it was always postponed. I was disappointed, but not sad. I thought we had all the time in the world. As long as we were together, our future would be bright. But disaster struck first. A major client suddenly terminated their contract, and our company’s cash flow froze. Victoria was consumed by stress, unable to sleep. To help her, I went everywhere, begging for help. My parents turned their backs. My sister, buried in her own work, could offer sympathy but no real assistance. Our daughter was only three and needed constant care. With no other options, I took our child with me to kneel before the client and beg for forgiveness. My forehead was bruised from kowtowing, my knees raw and bloody. I endured endless humiliation to secure a lifeline for Victoria, only to be murdered by Julian. Even now, the memory of that day sends a shiver of ice through my soul. Julian had a group of men take turns violating me. He recorded a small part of it and sent it to Victoria as “proof” of my infidelity. Then, he plunged a knife into my stomach. He sliced my skin open, inch by inch, a grotesque smile on his face. “You love Victoria so much, don’t you? She needs capital right now. You can’t just stand by and do nothing.” “I’ve found a good use for you and your little bastard… your lives will be the foundation of my life with Victoria.” Julian had partnered with a ring of organ traffickers. They burned my child and sold my organs across the globe. With the blood money he received, he helped Victoria stage a magnificent comeback, becoming the celebrated and indispensable Mr. Julian. Victoria’s business flourished. Their relationship deepened. Soon, they were expecting a child of their own. Today, Victoria has a successful career and a happy family. The only stain on her perfect life is her treacherous ex-husband. But if she had just looked closer. If she had just watched that video carefully, she would have seen that my limbs were twisted at unnatural angles. She would have seen the blood staining the corners of my mouth. That was because Julian, afraid I would fight back, had systematically broken my bones. He had pulled out my tongue and my teeth. But she didn’t look. She believed his tears. She believed in my betrayal. A single, fleeting glance at that video was enough to seal my fate. She left me to rot in that forgotten corner of the world, my body hollowed out and buried in the dirt. And my poor, innocent child was packaged up and sold as a priceless Celestial Relic Bead. At this moment, I can’t help but marvel at the cruelty of fate. It stole our lives but brought us back together in the most twisted way imaginable. My sweet, innocent daughter, her little life cut short, her soul filled with resentment and sorrow. After years of being passed from hand to hand, country to country, she had finally come full circle, gifted by her own mother to her murderer as a token of protection. The irony was a blade in my heart. My thoughts snapped back to the present. I stared at Victoria, my soul aching with a futile wish. I knew it was impossible, but I still hoped she could see me, could hear the truth I so desperately needed to tell her. But their next words sent a chill through my very essence, a cold so deep it felt like dying all over again. 3. Julian rested his head on Victoria’s shoulder and sighed, feigning a look of sorrow. “Vic, are you still hurting over Ethan’s betrayal?” “You know, when you think about it, this whole thing started because of me.” “If I hadn’t almost bankrupted the company, Ethan wouldn’t have been in such a rush to run off with the money.” “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have fallen in love with you. I shouldn’t have ruined your marriage…” Victoria’s heart ached for him. She leaned in and kissed his forehead gently. “This has nothing to do with you. Ethan was the one who chose to be degenerate.” “If anything, I should thank you. You helped me see his true colors.” Julian sighed again, nestling closer. As they murmured to each other, the full, ugly truth began to unfold. Victoria had cheated on me with Julian long before I died. She had been captivated by him at a campus recruitment fair and hired him on the spot, breaking company protocol just to keep him by her side. She even admitted it herself. Julian was the true love of her life. With me, it was just… a responsibility. “Ethan’s family situation is complicated, so I can’t divorce him right now. But I will never, ever let you feel wronged.” “Everything I have, I will give you, and more.” Victoria’s blatant favoritism made Julian reckless. It fed an ambition he never should have had. While I was at home taking care of our child, he acted as if he owned the company. His arrogance and swagger offended a major client. When the client confronted him, Victoria defended Julian, even getting into a physical altercation. That was what caused the client to pull their contract, nearly bankrupting us. That incident showed Julian just how unshakable his position in Victoria’s heart was. And it was then that the idea of getting rid of me, of becoming Mr. Thorne himself, took root in his mind. Hearing their confession was like being struck by lightning. Tears fell like rain. After the company stabilized, Victoria used our love as leverage, convincing me to step back from management to be a stay-at-home dad. For a while, we were happy. But soon, she started coming home later and later. Her clothes carried the strange scent of unfamiliar smoke, and I’d find faint red marks on her neck. When I questioned her, she would always say the same thing. “Ethan, you’re overthinking it.” “I’m working, I’m networking. It’s all for you and our daughter.” If I pushed any further, she would lose her temper. She’d accuse me of being insecure, of being paranoid. She’d say I had too much time on my hands and didn’t appreciate how hard she worked. But it was all a lie. Every suspicion was founded. Every betrayal was hidden in plain sight. And I finally understood why she had so readily believed I’d run off with the money. Because a cheater sees a cheater in everyone. The pain was so intense I thought my soul would shatter. Just then, the sharp ring of a telephone broke the suffocating silence.

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Jimmy and I had been secretly married for years, right up until the day his old flame got pregnant with his child. The call came on our fifth wedding anniversary. The moment he heard she was at risk of a miscarriage, he grabbed his car keys and bolted, leaving me at home, doubled over with an appendix on the verge of bursting. I collapsed, and he spent the next two weeks at the hospital by her side. When I saw him again, he tossed his coat, reeking of hospital disinfectant, onto the sofa. His voice was as flat as if he were discussing the weather. “I’ve increased the limit on your credit card. Buy whatever you need.” “She just made it through the critical period. She can’t be left alone.” But this time, I had come to say goodbye. 1 I handed the papers to Jimmy right after I was discharged from the hospital. He was in the middle of a video call with her, his first love, Evelyn. The words “DIVORCE AGREEMENT” were printed in bold capital letters right at the top, but he didn’t even glance at them. He just signed his name with a swift, clean stroke. I took the document and turned to go, but his eyes suddenly flickered up from his phone. “That restorative yam porridge you used to make—it’s very nourishing. Starting tomorrow, could you send two servings to the hospital every day? She can only have soft foods right now.” That recipe was something I had spent weeks perfecting, poring over old herbalist texts. In our first year of marriage, Jimmy had ruined his stomach with endless business dinners and drinking. I was the one who stood in the kitchen, testing dozens of ingredient ratios until I found the gentlest, most healing blend. Now, he wanted to take that piece of my heart and offer it to another woman. Even though I had already made up my mind to cut all ties with this man, my eyes burned with tears. When I didn’t answer, Jimmy’s brow furrowed with impatience. “Can you teach the housekeeper, then? Just write down the steps for her. Consider it… me buying the recipe from you.” “Two million dollars. Is that enough?” I used to make excuses for him, but now I didn’t even have the energy to argue. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Fitch.” “The yam has to be…” “Add half a spoonful of honey at the end. No sugar.” “I wish Miss Lin a swift recovery.” As I spoke, I saw his grip on his phone tighten. A flash of shock crossed his face before it was buried again under a mask of indifference. “You don’t have to be so formal. We’re still legally married. When you have a child one day, I’ll also—” I let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh. Right. Jimmy didn’t know we’d already had a child. I miscarried in my eighth week of pregnancy. I was walking out of the clinic alone when a delivery bike swerved and clipped me. A deep, pulling pain shot through my abdomen, and I collapsed. It was a kind nurse who saw me and helped me into the emergency room. I couldn’t look her in the eye when she asked her questions. How was I supposed to explain that my husband couldn’t be with me for an ultrasound because he was busy delivering a meal to another woman? His phone buzzed in his hand, and the name “Evelyn” lit up the screen, stabbing at my eyes. The urgency in his voice was sickening. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell again?” A draft from the entryway snaked in, chilling the last vestiges of my affection for him. I turned and walked into our bedroom to start packing. The next morning, I found Jimmy in the living room, his eyes bloodshot from a sleepless night. On the coffee table was an unopened pastry bag from that trendy café on the corner. I pulled it open—inside were mango crepes and an iced latte. My hand froze in mid-air. The tiny flicker of hope left in my heart deflated like a pricked balloon. Jimmy rubbed his temples, his voice rough. “Why aren’t you eating? I picked it up on my way back from the hospital. I heard it’s really popular.” “We’ve been married for five years, Jimmy. Did you forget that I’m allergic to mangoes?” My voice was quiet, but he shot to his feet as if he’d been struck, sweeping the bag into the trash can. “Sorry,” he said, a note of panic in his tone. “Evelyn said they were good. I thought you might like them too.” He couldn’t even remember my most basic allergy, yet another woman’s passing preference was gospel. The condensation from the iced latte bled through the paper cup. I placed it gently on the coffee table and pushed it toward him. “You see, Jimmy? Some things, when they’ve expired, just need to be thrown away.” I didn’t wait to see the stunned look on his face. I went back to the bedroom and continued packing. In a moment of habit, I picked up my phone and opened my messages. My chat with Jimmy was still at the top, the last message from over two weeks ago. It was the night before our anniversary; he’d been out until 3 a.m., and I’d stayed up waiting until 3 a.m. I clicked on Evelyn’s profile. Her posts were private, visible for only three days. There was a single, solitary picture. A crystal vase filled with a bouquet of pale pink champagne roses. The caption read, “Thank you, Jimmy.” I could see the corner of a white hospital curtain in the photo. I recognized those flowers. I’d once told him they were beautiful and asked if he’d ever buy me some. He had frowned and called them “a frivolous waste of money.” But he’d had them sent straight to Evelyn’s hospital room. I gave the picture a ‘like,’ then deleted my entire five-year chat history with him. 2 I was out at lunch when my phone buzzed. A message from Jimmy. “The housekeeper said you’ve cleared out a lot of your things?” My friend Zoe was in the middle of talking to me, and it felt rude to reply. I locked the screen and put the phone away. “Are you really done with him for good this time?” Zoe asked. “It’s long overdue.” “Remember last year when you had a 102-degree fever, and he told you to ‘figure it out’ yourself because he had to go with Evelyn to some art gallery opening? I swear, only you could have tolerated that for so long.” While Zoe fumed on my behalf, I just sipped my water, one mouthful after another. She helped me look at new apartments, and by the time I got home, it was already past nine. When I switched on the lights, I jumped. Jimmy was sitting on the sofa in the dark. “Why are you back so late? You didn’t answer my message.” I was too exhausted to explain. “I was out with a friend,” I said, the half-truth slipping out easily. His eyes followed me, a question hanging in the air. “Next time you’re going to be this late, you need to let me know.” I pretended not to see the long, dark hair on his jacket—the one that smelled faintly of disinfectant. It could only belong to Evelyn. Later, after I had washed up for the night and was about to turn off the light, Jimmy pushed the bedroom door open. “I’ll have the housekeeper make you some of those high-end health tonics tomorrow. You look pale.” “And I’ve told the driver he’s at your disposal. He can take you wherever you want to go.” I pulled the covers up to my chin. “No, thank you. I threw all those supplements out when I was packing.” Most of the expensive health products he’d bought me over the years were still sealed. As for the driver, that was even more pointless. The driver had always been for Evelyn. I was the one who always had to call a cab. His footsteps stopped. After a two-second pause, his voice rose, sharp and loud. “What the hell do you want from me?” Slam. The force of him shutting the door made the picture frames on the wall tremble. I could hear his voice, tight with fury, from the other side of the door. “Don’t you dare pull this passive-aggressive crap with me. I don’t have time for these games. When you’re done with your tantrum, we can talk. But don’t expect me to come groveling every time.” There was a time when those words would have sent me into a spiral of anxiety. But now, hearing that familiar threat, my heart was as still and silent as a frozen lake. Jimmy waited for two days, but he heard nothing from me. Our only interactions now seemed to happen at the dinner table. I ate my meal in silence and was about to head back to my room when he stopped me, his face grim. “Virginia. That shawl you made got damaged. I need you to make me another one, exactly the same.” He pulled up the picture Evelyn had posted—magnolias embroidered with silver thread, shimmering in the sunlight. It was the shawl I had spent three months knitting for him. A gift for our first wedding anniversary. “Alright,” I said, my voice even. My quick agreement seemed to throw him off. He shifted, then offered a clumsy explanation. “Evelyn said the air conditioning in the hospital room was too cold. I figured it was a waste just sitting in the closet. She accidentally…” “I understand,” I cut him off. I met Jimmy when I was twenty-five. A competitor had tried to humiliate me at an industry event, spilling coffee all over my dress and breaking the heel of my shoe. He was the one who stepped in, smoothed things over, and even sent a new outfit to my hotel room. I would knit him one last shawl. A final repayment for that long-ago kindness. “Is there anything else?” The question seemed to startle him. He drummed his fingers on the edge of the table. “No, that’s it. Just make a list of the materials, and I’ll have my assistant buy them.” “Don’t trouble yourself.” I turned and headed for the stairs. Just as I was about to disappear from view, Jimmy shot up from his chair and grabbed my wrist. I looked at him. His Adam’s apple bobbed for a long moment before he finally choked out the words. “Let me know if you need more yarn.” 3 In the hospital room, Jimmy gently draped the new shawl over Evelyn’s shoulders. It was only then that he noticed the notification on his phone—a transfer he’d sent eighteen hours ago had been rejected. The amount was half a million dollars, a number he had typed without a thought. He clutched the phone and walked to the window, his expression laced with irritation. “Virginia, what’s your problem with money? Why didn’t you accept it?” I was at my computer, typing the final sentence of an email confirming my transfer to the company’s new branch office. My voice was calm. “Why? Did Miss Lin not like it?” His tone immediately softened. “The new shawl is very comfortable. And beautiful.” He paused, then added, “You did a good job.” I was about to end the call when Evelyn’s sweet, soft voice drifted through the receiver. “Jimmy, sweetie, is that Virginia?” “Oh, Virginia, I’m so sorry to have troubled you.” Her voice was laced with a lazy sort of entitlement. “I didn’t want to be a bother, but the draft was just so uncomfortable. Please don’t be mad at Jimmy. You know how he is, always so soft-hearted with me. I feel terribly guilty, really. You two are married, after all. It’s not right for me to be causing friction between you.” Just as she was suggesting we all meet up so she could thank me in person, Jimmy took the phone back. “Virginia, if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to.” I heard the click of the line disconnecting. But ten minutes later, a text arrived: [Tomorrow, 3 PM. That trendy café on the corner. Order for us and wait.] When I pushed open the café door, they were already there, seated by the window. Evelyn was wearing Jimmy’s suit jacket, her hand resting gently on her swollen belly. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. “Virginia, you came!” Jimmy, however, looked stunned to see me. I knew he hated sweet things. The text could only have been sent by Evelyn. But I came anyway. Hearing Evelyn call me by my first name so familiarly, a flicker of something crossed Jimmy’s face. “I thought I told you that you didn’t have to come.” “Oh, it was my idea to invite her,” Evelyn said, placing her hand over Jimmy’s. Her voice was as tender as a lover’s whisper. “You’re always talking about her, aren’t you? You say she’s a wonderful cook and takes such good care of you.” She turned to me, a triumphant smile she couldn’t hide playing on her lips. “Virginia, please don’t be angry with Jimmy, okay? He was just so worried about me. As soon as the baby is born, I’ll make sure he properly…” Compensates me? Before she could finish, I cut her off. “That won’t be necessary.” The two of them, sitting across from me like a perfect little family, both froze. Jimmy’s brow furrowed, his expression hardening. “Virginia, what is that supposed to mean?” I pasted on a fake smile of my own. “At this stage, taking care of Miss Lin’s health is the most important thing, isn’t it?” Jimmy studied my face, searching for a crack in my composure, but found none. Of course, he probably didn’t know. He’d already signed the divorce papers. His frown deepened, and his voice grew heavy. “As long as you understand. Evelyn is pregnant. She can’t handle any emotional stress right now. You’d be wise to think about the consequences before you do anything.” I gave a noncommittal nod. There was nothing more to say. I made an excuse and left. Half an hour later, I was back in the place I once called home. I went to the study, took out the signed copy of the divorce agreement, and placed the letter I’d already written on top of it. The letter contained no bitterness, just a calm, factual account of his years of neglect and indifference. I ended it with: “Jimmy, you were never unfair to Evelyn. From beginning to end, you were only ever unfair to me.” The moving company arrived soon after. My boxes were already packed and sealed. “Please have these delivered to The Grand Regent Hotel,” I told them. “The recipient is Virginia Sue.” …

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The day before the university fitness test, my childhood best friend, Leo, shoved me into a hole in the wall behind the academic building. My lower body was wedged tight, but my top half was dangling on the other side, leaving my butt sticking out for the whole world to see—right in the path of the impending lunch rush. “Why?” I asked, panic clawing at my throat. He just laughed, a casual, dismissive sound. “Oh, Sophia wanted to play a prank on you, film a funny video for social media.” “She’ll pull you out in a minute,” he added. Sophia. The campus ‘it-girl’ who’d been clinging to Leo since freshman year. I fell silent, the cold truth settling in my bones. So that’s what my dignity was worth. The punchline to a joke. I stopped struggling. I just waited, my humiliation turning into a campus-wide spectacle. That’s when the look on Leo’s face finally changed. “I told you I’d pull you out in a minute, didn’t I? Why didn’t you fight back?” “Right,” I mumbled into the darkness of the wall. 01 My mind went completely blank the moment I realized I was stuck. The hole was a relic from a renovation, an old ventilation shaft that had been sealed off. It was just big enough, and just small enough, to trap my hips perfectly. Leo had just asked me to grab something for him. “Vivi, I left my notebook back there. Can you grab it for me?” He’d smiled at me then, the same gentle smile he’d given me a thousand times over the last twelve years. I’d agreed without a second thought. It was our rhythm. He needed something, and I was there to give it. But now, I was stuck headfirst like a human cork, my ass to the world. And the worst part? This was the main path to the dining hall. In ten minutes, the lunch bell would ring, and thousands of students would be walking past. I struggled, twisting and pulling, while fumbling for my phone to call Leo. It rang three times before he picked up. “Leo, help me! I’m stuck!” He chuckled, a light, airy sound that made my blood run cold. “Oh, I know. I’m the one who pushed you in.” For a second, I think my heart stopped beating. “What… what did you say?” “Relax,” Leo’s voice was laced with an impatient edge. “Sophia wanted to film a funny clip. She said your ass is so big it’d be hilarious. I’ll pull you out as soon as she gets the shot. Five minutes, tops.” I froze, every muscle in my body locking up. Sophia? The girl who had been chasing Leo since day one? The one who paraded her perfection in front of me every chance she got? She wanted to make a joke out of my body, and Leo… Leo just shoved me into a wall? “Leo, do you have any idea how humiliating this is?” My voice trembled. “God, don’t be so sensitive,” he snapped. “It’s just a joke. I mean, a girl as gorgeous as Sophia asks for a favor, what am I supposed to do, say no?” “Besides,” he added, and his next words felt like a knife twisting in my gut. “Your butt is pretty big. It’s just a fact.” 02 A silvery laugh chimed through the phone. It was Sophia. “Leo, sweetie, who are you talking to?” Her voice was sickly sweet, dripping with smug satisfaction. “Hurry up, I’ve got my phone ready. It’ll be even better once a crowd gathers!” “We have to wait for a crowd?” Leo sounded hesitant for the first time. “Of course!” Sophia’s voice turned into a playful pout. “What’s the point if no one sees it? I want the whole school to see how… bulky the girl who follows you around really is.” She spat the word “bulky” like it was poison. Leo was quiet for a moment. Then, “Alright. Whatever you say.” He hung up. Just like that. My fingers turned white as I gripped my phone. Twelve years, and that was the first time Leo had ever hung up on me for someone else. No matter how busy he was, he always said a proper goodbye. Even in the middle of a video game, it was always, “Vivi, gotta go, talk later.” But now, he was in such a rush to please Sophia that he couldn’t spare a single word for me. My struggling intensified, but the more I fought, the tighter the hole seemed to grip me. My workout pants were digging into my waist, cutting off circulation. My legs were starting to go numb. Then I heard her voice, getting closer. “Leo, look! There are people coming already!” “Yeah,” was all Leo said. “Make sure you get a good angle when the crowd gets bigger,” Sophia said, her voice buzzing with excitement. “I want her at her absolute worst.” Tears pricked my eyes. So this was what Leo called “a joke.” 03 To my horror, I could already hear footsteps. “Whoa, what is that?” “Is that a person stuck in the wall?” “Hahaha, look at the size of that ass!” The first to spot me were a few freshmen. They didn’t bother hiding their shock or their laughter, immediately pulling out their phones to record. “Dude, check this out! This is hilarious!” “How fat do you have to be to get stuck like that?” “It’s a girl, right? Look at the yoga pants.” A small crowd was forming, the air filled with the incessant clicking of phone cameras. The flashes were blinding, but there was nowhere for me to hide. I buried my face in my arms, my whole body shaking. A hot tide of shame washed over me, drowning me. Then, someone recognized me. “Hey, isn’t that Vivian?” “Vivian? The girl who’s always following Leo around?” “Yeah, yeah, that’s her! No wonder her ass is so huge, it’s for real!” The murmurs and jeers swirled around me, each word a needle piercing my skin. I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood, trying to hold back the tears, but they streamed down my face anyway. Leo, where are you? You said five minutes. It had already been ten. 04 The crowd grew, pressing in from all sides. Someone had even started a livestream. “What’s up, guys, you won’t believe what I just found! A campus legend in the making! Some girl got her giant ass stuck in a wall!” “Streamer, get a shot of her face!” a comment read aloud. “Can’t, she’s hiding it.” “That ass is legendary, though, hahaha!” The chat was flying, and I could hear people reading the vicious comments out loud. Someone even took a picture of my butt and slapped it. “Damn, that’s solid. Bet it echoes when you slap it!” I wanted to fight back, but with my upper body hanging limp, I was powerless. I was a puppet on display, forced to endure every bit of this nightmare. Just then, a familiar voice cut through the noise. “Well, well, if it isn’t Vivian.” Sophia had arrived. She was dressed for the occasion in a flowing white sundress, her long hair clipped back perfectly. In the sea of faces, she stood out like a star, holding the latest iPhone with the camera pointed directly at me. “Everyone knows Vivian, right? The girl who’s always trailing after Leo,” she announced with a delicate laugh, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “I never realized she was so… well-endowed.” The crowd erupted in another wave of laughter. Someone catcalled, “Sophia, aren’t you Leo’s girlfriend?” “Oh, stop,” she said, feigning shyness. “Leo told me he just thinks of me as a little sister.” “Then what’s Vivian?” “Her?” Sophia drew out the word. “She’s probably just… baggage.” 05 Sophia knelt down, leaning close to the hole. Her perfume was so cloyingly sweet it made me want to gag. “Vivian, honey, are you okay?” Her voice was as soft as silk, but I could feel the venom coiled beneath it. I didn’t answer. “Should I call someone for you? Then again…” Her tone shifted, suddenly becoming louder for the benefit of her audience. “With so many people watching, it would be pretty embarrassing for whoever shows up, right?” “Especially Leo. He cares so much about his image. Can you imagine how mortified he’d be, knowing you made such a scene?” The crowd started whispering amongst themselves. “So Leo isn’t even here?” “His girlfriend is stuck like that, and he’s a no-show?” “Maybe she’s not his girlfriend at all.” Satisfied, Sophia stood up, addressing her phone’s camera. “See, everyone? This is what Vivian really looks like. You can’t tell with her baggy clothes, but she’s actually so… sturdy.” Every word she spoke was punctuated by a fresh peal of laughter from the crowd. And I was trapped, a prisoner in my own humiliation. I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the tears flow freely. Leo, can you hear this? Your ‘little sister’ is tearing me apart. And where are you? 06 It finally clicked. This wasn’t a prank. This was a meticulously planned execution. Sophia wanted to humiliate me so badly in front of Leo that I would crawl away and never come back. And Leo… he’d helped her do it. The crowd was now three layers deep. Some people had even climbed onto the roof of the opposite building to get a better view of the “freak show.” “Who is she? Why isn’t she getting out?” “Guess she’s really stuck. That ass is definitely…” “Someone call security. They’re blocking the path to the dining hall.” “Why call security? This is better than reality TV!” My legs were completely dead now, and a searing pain was shooting through my lower back. Sweat soaked through my shirt, mingling with my tears. I was a pathetic mess. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. Twelve years. I’d known Leo since we were six years old. We grew up together, inseparable. The first day I transferred to his elementary school, I was the shy new kid hiding in the corner. He was the one who walked up to me and offered me a piece of candy. “You’re new, right? I’m Leo.” From that day on, we were a set. We walked to school together, did our homework together, celebrated every birthday together. I thought what we had was unshakable. But here he was, sacrificing me for the amusement of a girl he’d known for less than two years. 07 “Leo, honey, look! So many people are filming!” Sophia’s voice rang out again, giddy with triumph. “This video is definitely going viral! The whole school will know about Vivian’s ‘big’ moment!” “Yeah,” came Leo’s voice. He was here. He’d been here, watching. And he hadn’t done a thing. I blinked hard, trying to stop the tears, but it was useless. They just kept coming. “Don’t you think that’s enough?” Leo finally said, his voice flat. “Just a little longer,” Sophia whined. “The crowd’s not even that big yet. The guys from the football team aren’t even here!” “Sophia, that’s enough,” Leo said, his tone sharpening with irritation. “Fine, fine.” She reluctantly lowered her phone. “Honestly, Leo, you’re just too soft.” I thought he was finally going to help me. But he just stood at the edge of the crowd, hands shoved in his pockets, watching me like a stranger. “Vivian, just get yourself out.” He said it so casually, as if he were commenting on the weather. I gritted my teeth. “I can’t!” “Why not? It was easy enough getting you in,” Leo frowned, his voice suddenly turning cold. “Are you doing this on purpose? Trying to embarrass me in front of everyone?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He pushed me in, and now he was accusing me of faking it? “Leo!” My voice was a raw croak. “You’re the one who pushed me!” “Yeah, as a joke!” he shot back, his patience gone. “How was I supposed to know you were so damn fragile you’d actually get stuck?” The crowd started murmuring again. “Wait, her boyfriend pushed her in?” “What kind of boyfriend does that?” “Maybe he just did it for a laugh.” 08 Someone recognized Leo. “Isn’t that the star of the computer science department?” “Yeah, that’s him! The guy who’s a god on the basketball court!” “So that’s his girlfriend? She’s so…” The sentence hung in the air, more damning than any insult. “No way, I heard he was chasing Sophia.” “Well, look, Sophia’s right there with him.” All eyes were now darting between me, Leo, and Sophia, piecing together the sordid little drama. Sophia seized the moment, linking her arm through Leo’s, a gesture so practiced it looked like she’d done it a thousand times. “Leo, honey, maybe we should just go? Vivian probably needs some space.” She leaned her head on his shoulder, her voice soft and caring. “We still have to get to the library. You promised you’d help me with my coding homework.” Leo glanced at his watch. “You’re right. There’s no point wasting time here.” They were actually going to leave? They were going to leave me here? “Leo!” I screamed his name with every last bit of strength I had. He turned back, his eyes filled with annoyance. “What now?” “You can’t just leave! You did this to me!” “I told you, it was a joke,” Leo’s voice was ice. “You know, Vivian, you’ve gotten really petty lately. You get upset over every little thing, and you always need me to coddle you. You should be more like Sophia. Look at her, she’s so understanding.” 09 Sophia flashed a triumphant smirk. That smile was a dagger to my heart. So that’s how Leo saw me. Petty, needy, a drama queen. And Sophia, the mastermind of my humiliation, was the “understanding” one. “Leo’s right,” Sophia cooed. “Vivian, you need to learn to be more independent. You can’t rely on Leo for everything.” She paused, then added for good measure, “After all, he has his own life to live.” His own life. Of course. Leo had his own life. A life filled with basketball, video games, coding… and Sophia. A life where there was no longer any room for me. And then they left. They actually walked away. Leo didn’t even glance back. He just left me there, a clown for the crowd’s amusement. The audience didn’t shrink; if anything, it grew. “Did her boyfriend really just ditch her?” “That’s messed up.” “Serves her right for being that fat.” “Post this everywhere! This is the most epic campus fail of the year!” Someone started crafting a headline for their social media post: “SHOCKING: University student’s giant ass gets stuck in wall! Boyfriend watches, then leaves with campus queen!” Others speculated with malice, “You think she did it on purpose? For the attention?”

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In the third year of my marriage to my arch-nemesis, a new intern accidentally spilled water all over the marriage certificate he kept on his desk. Panicked, she rushed it to the city records office to get a replacement. But the clerk told her the certificate was a fake. I went back to the office to confront my husband, Liam. Only to find him pressing the intern against the door, kissing her. “I fought with her for five years,” he murmured, “but I’ve been secretly in love with you for ten.” “Our real marriage certificate? I have it locked away safely in a vault.” Even when the intern pushed me down the stairs and my head split open, Liam just stood there, watching coldly. He pulled the intern into his arms, shielding her from the sight. “Don’t look,” he whispered. “You can’t stand the sight of blood.” Later, due to a delay in treatment, I suffered a cognitive impairment. When I opened my eyes again, my memory was stuck in the year I hated him the most. 1 Two days after the surgery, Liam finally showed up. I was sitting up in my hospital bed, joking with a young nurse. The moment he walked in, my smile vanished. “What are you doing here?” Liam’s gaze lingered for a moment on the bandage on my forehead. He sneered. “Katey’s been worried sick about you for two days, and you’re just in here playing sick?” Before I could process his words, he strode forward and yanked on my IV line. The needle was ripped from my vein. I sucked in a sharp breath of pain. Blood spurted from the back of my hand, and the nurse next to me shrieked, rushing to apply pressure. When my senses returned, I slapped Liam hard across the face. “Did you die a violent death in a past life? Is that why you’re so full of rage?” I spat. “Are you blind? Can’t you see the damn gauze on the back of my head?” Back when we were new hires, Liam and I were at our worst. He called me rigid and boring; I said he was worse than a dog. Our greetings consisted of creative insults aimed at each other’s parents. The slap snapped Liam’s head to the side. He stared at me, completely stunned. He was speechless, but I wasn’t finished. Once the bleeding stopped, I glared at him, ready to have security throw him out. But the nurse’s next words froze me in place. “Mr. Hayes, could you please sign here on the line for Ms. Sterling’s next of kin?” Before Liam could even react, I snatched the clipboard from her. “What are you talking about? What makes him my family?” I trailed off, my eyes fixed on the form. On the line labeled “Spouse,” his name was written in clear, block letters: LIAM HAYES. Liam saw my stunned expression and rubbed his temples. “I know you’re angry with Katey, but her mother is sick. Her dying wish is to see her daughter married.” He sighed. “Katey and I grew up together. I was the most logical choice. I’ll divorce her later.” My movements were stiff as I fumbled for my phone. The contact pinned to the top of my messages, labeled “Hubby,” had Liam’s unchanging profile picture. In our company’s group chat, the new intern, Katey, had just posted, her profile picture a matching half of a couple’s photo with Liam. 【Getting married next month, everyone’s invited to our wedding!】 The photo she attached was deleted a second later, but not before I took a screenshot. It was a wedding photo. Liam was looking at her with such tenderness in his eyes. The chat was exploding with shocked messages, but I couldn’t bring myself to read them. My own photo album didn’t have a single picture of me and Liam together. The doctor had told me the impact had caused some side effects. I had lost the last five years of my memory. I was still reeling from the fact that I was apparently married to my sworn enemy, and now I was staring at his wedding photos with someone else. Just then, a new message popped up. It was from my friend who works at the records office. “You asked me to look up Liam Hayes. He registered a marriage a year ago.” “The spouse’s name is Katey Evans.” “That fake certificate you brought in didn’t have an official seal. It’s not legally valid.” That last sentence felt like a knife twisting in my gut. My head throbbed, a chaotic mess of feelings I couldn’t place. A wave of residual emotion I didn’t understand washed over me, making my nose sting. My silence seemed like an admission to Liam. He frowned and reached for me. “You…” He looked at a loss for words. Of course. We had fought for so long, always at each other’s throats. The idea of me falling for him was utterly absurd. I let out a slow breath. When I looked up again, my face was calm. “Don’t you know office romances are against company policy?” 2 Our conversation was cut short by a call from Katey. Liam’s attempt to explain was derailed by the sound of her crying. He left with a hurried, “I’ll be back,” and never returned. I discharged myself from the hospital and packed my things alone. The young nurse couldn’t stand it, helping me while she complained. “He admits he’s your family but then disappears when you need him.” She was indignant, but I didn’t care. Luckily, I never changed my passwords, so my phone was still usable. I found my new address in my notes app and took a cab. As I was leaving my new apartment building, the man at the bakery on the corner called out, “The usual?” On a strange impulse, I nodded. A moment later, I was holding two buns. Cabbage filling. I hated cabbage. The second I walked into the office, a coworker sidled up to me. “Bringing Mr. Hayes his buns again?” Before he finished speaking, the bag was snatched from my hand. Katey’s face was beaming. “Oh, Sienna, these cabbage buns are my favorite!” Her cloyingly sweet tone made me frown. I snatched the bag back and handed it to my coworker. “These are for you,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Just be careful not to get any of that fake sweetness on them.” He froze, but before he could react, Liam was there. He pulled a red-eyed Katey behind him and looked down at me. “Just because Katey and I have the same taste, you have to pick on her?” The other employees, who had been gathering to watch, fell silent at his words, their expressions shifting as they looked between the three of us. After all, the two main characters in this drama had become the office’s hottest topic yesterday. My silence stretched on for too long. Someone was about to step in and defend me, but Katey’s sobs started first. Tears streamed down her face, a picture of perfect misery. “I didn’t know you started liking this flavor after I left,” she whimpered. “When I saw the familiar wrapper, I thought they were for me.” Liam shot me a warning look before gently wiping her tears away. My eyes were glued to the watch on his wrist. I had seen a matching one—a woman’s version—on the nightstand at home. By the time I tuned back in, Katey was delivering her final line. “If it bothers you, sister, I can apologize.” The saccharine act was so over the top it was almost impressive. I blinked. “Then apologize.” Katey choked on her next sob, the tears instantly drying up. I, on the other hand, felt a smile spread across my face. I pointed to my ID badge. “You’re an intern. Are you sure you want to make an enemy of a department manager?” I said, emphasizing the word “manager.” “I know you’ve got a big mouth, but you don’t have to use it to talk out of your ass.” According to company policy, Katey should have been fired for her affair with a manager. It was Liam who had taken the fall, accepting a demotion to protect her. I sighed. I couldn’t understand his stupidity. Last night, I’d gone through every single one of our chat logs. We had been in a secret relationship for three years. He had never made us public. Seeing him protect Katey like this now filled me with a complex mix of emotions I couldn’t name. But my expression remained neutral. I put on a pleasant face, picked up a box of his things, and handed it to him. “Time to move to your new desk, Liam.” 3 I had no intention of quitting. I wasn’t the one at fault, so why should I leave? But as I was leaving work, Liam stopped me. His expression was complicated. “Are you still angry?” he muttered. “I didn’t know you were being discharged today. I never meant for Katey to post the invitation in the group chat. It was an accident.” I glanced at him, my words sharper than I intended. “You’re so good at passing the buck, it’s a shame you’re not a chef.” I added, “Seriously, do you think I’m three? How ‘accidental’.” It had been a while since I’d spoken with such venom. Liam was taken aback. He looked at me, then seemed to remember something. “How’s your injury?” The back of my head was still bandaged. I hesitated. I was about to tell him about the memory loss just to get him to leave me alone when Katey ran up and linked her arm through his. “You promised you’d have dinner with me. I’ve been waiting forever.” The distraction was obvious, but it worked. Liam’s attention shifted. He mumbled something about her not causing a scene, but his feet were already turning in her direction. Before he left, he tossed a small box at me. Inside was a necklace with a diamond the size of my pinky nail. I closed the lid as if it were burning my hand and started to go after him, but then I saw Katey turn her head. She casually revealed the massive diamond ring on her finger. “I’ve been wearing the ring you proposed with in front of my mom this whole time,” she said sweetly. “Mom says we should all go see her this weekend.” I instinctively looked down at my own ring finger. It was bare. I was still standing there long after their car had driven away. A coworker passed by. “Finally getting rid of that Katey girl,” she said. “She’s caused nothing but trouble.” I grunted in agreement, my eyes on the file in my hand. Katey had been assigned to Liam’s team as an intern. Now that he was demoted, his responsibilities had been transferred to me. The first thing I did was terminate her contract. I thought for a moment, then sent Katey a message. The reply was a picture: a hand with a diamond ring, holding a bouquet of roses, the cuff of a man’s suit just visible in the corner. I sent a question mark. A moment later, a new message from Katey appeared in the company group chat. “I don’t understand why some people feel the need to interfere in other people’s relationships.” “My last announcement was a warning. But some people just don’t get the hint.” A few people replied with popcorn emojis. I just scoffed. If she wasn’t going to listen to reason, then neither was I. I blocked Katey and removed her from the group chat. A moment later, my phone lit up with a message from Liam. “Why did you kick Katey out of the group? Can you stop throwing tantrums?” When I didn’t reply, he threatened, “Add her back. Don’t make me call you out in front of the whole company.” He was so sure I wouldn’t defy him over something so small. But I just typed back a few sentences. “Didn’t the doctor tell you, as my next of kin? I lost the last five years of my memory.” “Forget just insulting you to your faces. I’ll carve it on your tombstones when you’re dead.” “And don’t worry, you’ll be joining your dear Katey soon enough.” Then, I opened my family group chat, tagged my brother, and sent a message. 【Your sister’s in trouble at her own company. Get your ass over here, stat.】

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