The call from my mother found me feeding seagulls in the misty coastal town of Seabrook, Oregon. My stepbrother, Ethan, was completely wrapped around the little finger of a conniving vixen of a secretary. Not only was she demanding a ten-million-dollar “pre-nuptial gift,” but she was also on the verge of getting her hands on the entire family fortune, worth hundreds of millions. And me? His stepsister? I was the one that got away—the ghost of a love he could never have. My mother was at her wit’s end. “I’d rather the entire fortune go to you than to some outsider!” I let out a bitter laugh. “Really? Now you remember I’m family?” 1 Ethan and I had been in love. My mother and his father both knew it. But they had branded our relationship a forbidden taboo, nailing it to a cross of shame for all to see. “What makes you think I’d be willing to help you?” I shot back. “You haven’t given a damn whether I lived or died all these years.” Did they honestly believe that after all this time, I was still pining for Ethan? My mother was silent for a long moment. “You always wanted your grandmother’s house in Seabrook, didn’t you? Keep that little fox out of our family, and the house is yours.” A slow smile spread across my lips. “Deal. If she sets one foot in your house, I’ll change my last name to yours, Mom.” My name is Aria Frost. I have my father’s name, not hers. Ethan had always been a fool for love; I knew that better than anyone. When we were young, he’d nearly cut ties with his family for me, starving himself for three days straight in protest. And now, here he was, ready to give away a fortune for his new girlfriend, Jenna. Still, when I saw the scene unfolding in the private dining room—our parents haggling over millions while Ethan anxiously tried to soothe his pouting girlfriend, who had turned her back on him in a huff—an unnameable fire ignited in my gut. Had the idiot’s brain been eaten by dogs? Jenna’s parents made no attempt to hide their greed. “Are we asking for too much, really? It’s not even ten percent of your family’s assets. And our Jenna has been with your son for five years.” My mother tried to reason with them. “We’ve already compromised on the ten million. We’ve agreed to the private jet, the five-star hotel for all your guests. But a hundred grand for every single relative just to ‘welcome her to the family’? What kind of logic is that? Do you think we print money?” Jenna’s mother sniffed dismissively. “Now you’re just being nasty. You think five years of our Jenna’s youth isn’t worth that much?” “Yeah, exactly!” Jenna’s brother chimed in. While the Sterling family fortune was indeed in the hundreds of millions, their liquid cash was only a fraction of that. Coming up with ten million was already a massive stretch. But clearly, it wasn’t enough for them. I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, enjoying the show for another moment before giving the door a light rap. All eyes turned as I stepped into the room, a vision in head-to-toe Chanel, clutch in hand, my stilettos clicking sharply on the polished floor. The stalemate was broken. “Sorry to interrupt.” I walked right up to Ethan and Jenna and asked the waiter to bring another chair. Then, I reached out and gently ruffled Ethan’s soft hair. “It’s been a long time, Ethan.” Ten years. His eyes, suddenly red-rimmed, locked onto mine. The boyish immaturity was gone, replaced by the chiseled features of a man. He murmured my name, his voice thick with emotion. “Aria… you’re back.” Jenna’s internal alarms went into overdrive. “Ethan, honey, who is this?” A sly smile touched my lips as I turned to her. “Oh, forgive me. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Ethan’s sister, Aria. You know, the stepsister. No shared blood.” Jenna’s eyes are a lot like mine, a fact she seemed to realize in that instant. Like a character in a novel, the stand-in for the real thing, she knew the sudden appearance of the “white moonlight”—the idealized first love—was a threat she couldn’t ignore. Her pout vanished, replaced by a steely resolve. She gently tugged on the still-dazed Ethan’s arm. “Ethan, honey, this is our first time meeting the parents. Since your sister is here, let’s not talk about unpleasant things. Let’s just have a nice family dinner and set a date for the wedding, shall we?” My mother picked up her cue perfectly. “Since the financial arrangements aren’t settled, I don’t think we should rush to set a date. It would be terribly embarrassing to call it off later.” For once, Jenna’s mother agreed. “That’s right. A girl who’s desperate to get married before the money’s even been discussed? What a disgrace.” Jenna looked like she was about to cry, frantically pulling at her mother’s sleeve as if the chance would vanish if they didn’t seize it right now. But her mother didn’t care; that ten million was earmarked for Jenna’s brother to get married. Ethan finally snapped out of his trance, realizing how tense the room had become. He put a protective arm around Jenna and faced me. “Aria… this is my girlfriend, Jenna. No, my fiancée.” Hearing this, Jenna’s mother beamed, seeing the millions back within her grasp. Jenna herself blushed, nestling into his embrace. Her brother, Rick, saw his opening. “Hey, future brother-in-law, my sister mentioned you could get me a job at your company. I was thinking a manager role would be a pretty good fit for me, don’t you think?” My mother and Ethan’s father turned pale with fury. I just smiled sweetly at Ethan and nodded. “He has great taste.” Emboldened by Ethan’s support, Jenna’s confidence returned. “It’s nice to meet you, Aria. I don’t think Ethan’s ever mentioned having a sister. Ethan, darling, how could you keep such a beautiful sister a secret from me?” “I wasn’t around the family much. Kids forget things,” I said, my voice light but my eyes cold as I propped my chin on my hand. “Still, not inviting me to something as big as your wedding? That’s not very nice of you, Ethan.” His brow furrowed, his expression turning cold. “It wasn’t necessary.” The lovers of yesterday, now facing each other like enemies. My mother stepped in to smooth things over. “Now that Aria’s back, let’s not discuss anything unpleasant. We can talk about the money another time. Tonight, let’s just consider this a welcome-home dinner for Aria.” And just like that, what was meant to be an engagement dinner became my welcome-home party. Ethan looked thoroughly pissed off. My stepfather glared at him, looking like he was about to throttle his own son for siding with these vultures. 2 It wasn’t always like this between us. When my mother first divorced, I was sent to live with my father. He remarried, and every dollar spent on me became a new battleground between him and my stepmother. I scrimped and saved, but it was never enough. One day, my father, head bowed in defeat, said to me, “Aria, can you please stop causing me so much trouble?” So I moved into the school dorms, working odd jobs after class. But in high school, time was scarce, and the few dollars I earned never lasted. On hungry days, I filled my stomach with water. One day, I collapsed from chronic malnutrition. The school called my mother. She flew into a rage, calling my father every name in the book. By then, she had remarried and found herself with a rebellious teenage son. With her and her new husband busy building their business, they were exhausted by the boy’s antics. That’s when they remembered me, the daughter neither parent seemed to want. They offered me living expenses in exchange for “looking after my brother.” And so, I moved into the Sterling household, an outsider with a flimsy title. I was only two years older than Ethan, and at first, he refused to listen to a word I said. He’d go to an internet café for all-nighters, and I’d sit at the computer next to him, silently doing my homework. He’d try to go clubbing, and I’d grab his collar and physically block his way. After a while, he couldn’t take it anymore and exploded at me. Tears streamed down my face as I screamed back, “You think I want to do this? You have parents who love you, but I don’t! If it weren’t for the money, I wouldn’t give a damn about you!” He was just a freshman, all swagger and bravado, trying to act tough but with no real malice in his heart. Seeing me cry, he became flustered. “Hey, don’t cry. I won’t go, okay? Fine. From now on… I’ll be the one to look after you.” From that day on, I discovered my secret weapon. Whenever I cried, Ethan would become putty in my hands. His friends would tease him. “Dude, you’re so whipped. You’re gonna be terrified of your future wife.” Ethan would just grin and shoot back, “What’s it to you? You’re just jealous I have a gorgeous sister.” Over time, something shifted between us. I don’t know who fell first. The love of youth is a fierce, untamable thing. Maybe it was because, after a lifetime of being treated as a burden, I finally tasted sweetness. Or maybe it was the way he’d always be waiting for me under the streetlight on my walk home, his voice warm as he called me “sister.” Our shadows tangled together under the blazing sun, our eyes holding a raw, unfiltered affection. I don’t remember who reached out first, a tentative, searching gesture. The air crackled, thick with a tantalizing, unspoken dare, stealing the very breath from our lungs and leaving our faces flushed crimson. I was utterly captivated by him. Then, one afternoon, as we were walking home from school, our fingers intertwined, I looked up and saw my mother. Her eyes were daggers. A chill shot through me, and I snatched my hand away from his. Our love was murdered in its cradle. My mother, sobbing, screamed that I was a temptress, a vixen seducing her own brother. She hit me, her nails leaving bloody tracks across my skin, her slaps leaving my face burning and red. I didn’t fight back. Ethan was locked in his room. But a love worth dying for requires a courage I didn’t have. After I graduated, I left without a word. I abandoned Ethan to his hunger strike, to his silent war with our parents. In that battle, I was the deserter. I applied for a working holiday visa and went to Australia alone. I worked day and night, saving enough for my entire college tuition and living expenses. The only contact I had with my mother was a brief reply to her annual birthday text. “Why did you come back?” After the welcome-home dinner, Ethan drove me back. I was in the back seat, my eyes closed. “How could I miss your wedding? You are my brother, after all. At least, in name.” I said it with a playful smile. Ethan’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. He took a deep breath before finally asking, “Have you been okay all these years?” “Fantastic,” I replied. “I recently opened a boba shop in Seabrook.” The car screeched to a halt at a red light. “You’re leaving again?” He turned to face me, his eyes intense. I smiled faintly. “Of course. This isn’t my home, after all.” My tone shifted. “But… your fiancée. She seems to be more in love with your money than with you, don’t you think?” Ethan’s gaze was steady, his voice low. “I would give the woman I love anything she desires, as long as I have it to give.” “Is that so? Then would you mind changing the woman you love?” His breath hitched. “Don’t joke around… sister.” His voice cracked. “You were the one who ran. We promised… we promised no one would run.” He was lost in the memory, his eyes glistening. “But you left anyway.” My smile vanished. “Ethan, how long has it been? Ten years?” His voice was firm. “3841 days.” The number stunned me. A wave of guilt washed over me, and I had to look away. “3841 days… and you’re about to get married. I’m glad. I’m glad you’ve moved on.” He let out a hollow, absurd laugh, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. I’ve moved on.” The silence in the car was deafening, broken only by the roar of the engine. 3 After my return, Ethan avoided the house for over a week, making sure our paths wouldn’t cross. Tsk. I shook my head, trying to clear it. I couldn’t let him mess with my focus. “Finally decided to come home?” my mother greeted Ethan as he walked through the door after work. She took his briefcase and guided him to the dining table. “Perfect timing. Your sister cooked. Come and try.” Ethan knew my mother and his father disliked Jenna, which was why he’d never brought her home. His eyes scanned the beautifully arranged dishes on the table. He picked up a piece of meat and put it in his mouth. Suddenly, he froze, a distant look in his eyes. I chose that moment to emerge from the kitchen, wearing an apron and holding a spatula. “What’s wrong, little bro? It’s been a while since you’ve had my cooking. You missed it, didn’t you?” He looked at me and simply nodded, silently shoveling food into his mouth. Back when I lived with them, our parents were rarely home. I was the one who always cooked for Ethan, and I’d gotten pretty good at it. I knew he missed my food. “Eat slowly,” my mother said softly from the side. Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, but inside, the atmosphere was warm, almost like we had traveled back in time to the days before everything fell apart. Ethan’s phone buzzed. He answered it, his brow instantly knitting into a frown. “What is it? Trouble at work?” his father asked. Ethan shook his head. “Mom, Dad… Aria. I have to go out for a bit. Jenna’s working late at the office and she doesn’t have an umbrella. I need to go pick her up.” My mother slammed her chopsticks on the table. “That little vixen again.” I knew she’d react that way. Ethan said nothing. I just went to the hall closet, pulled out an umbrella, and handed it to him. “Go on. I’m here.” That’s how the idealized first love should act, right? Gentle and understanding. Even if my chest was aching with a familiar, sour jealousy. It was one in the morning, and Ethan still wasn’t back. I was slouched on the sofa, binge-watching a K-drama. I was long past the age of starry-eyed romance, but here I was, my heart still skipping a beat for some fictional pure love. The front door creaked open. I saw a familiar figure, completely soaked. “You’re back?” I asked casually. “You had the car, how did you get so drenched?” Ethan started, clearly not expecting me to still be up. For once, he answered obediently. “Jenna said… walking home in the rain was… romantic.” I snorted with laughter. There’s a fine line between pure love and pure stupidity. “Go take a hot shower and get some rest.” I reached for the umbrella in his hand to put it away, but a heavy weight suddenly collapsed against me. I felt the heat radiating from his body. I pressed my hand to his forehead. He was burning up. He’s been this much trouble since he was a kid. I summoned all my strength to drag him onto the sofa, then wrapped him in a dry towel. The wet clothes clinging to his skin were obviously uncomfortable. I gently patted his cheek. “Wake up. Change your clothes. Dry yourself off.” He was delirious with fever, but thankfully, he was compliant. Once he was settled, I prepared some medicine and held the cup to his lips. “Drink this. I’ll leave after you finish. Then you go to your room, okay?” At my words, his rebellious streak resurfaced. He grabbed my wrist, his eyes wide and glassy. “Don’t go.” I couldn’t pull away. “I’m not going far, I’m just going to my room to sleep.” He started murmuring, lost in his fever dream. “Aria, don’t go. Don’t leave me. Don’t abandon me. How could you abandon me?” A sudden sting pricked my nose. I leaned in and gently hugged him, patting his back. “I won’t leave you again, Ethan.” How could I ever bear to leave him? But back then… if he had come with me… I had nothing to offer. That night, the cold, distant Ethan from the daytime vanished, replaced by a vulnerable boy who cried and clung to me, his obedience almost painfully sweet. By the time his fever finally broke, dawn was streaking the sky. I had fallen asleep slumped over the edge of the sofa. When I woke up, I was in my bed. Ethan was gone, having woken up sometime earlier and slipped away. He was probably mortified by his behavior last night. I smiled to myself. Looks like the fire I’ve started isn’t burning hot enough just yet. 4 The next day, Ethan acted as if nothing had happened. He coolly informed my mother that Jenna wanted to try on wedding dresses that afternoon. My mother gave me a little push. “Aria should go too. To help you two decide.” Ethan’s gaze flickered towards me, dark and unreadable. I forced myself to stand, offering a dry laugh. “Oh, right. I should go get some ideas. Might be useful when I get married someday.” “You’d look beautiful in a wedding dress, Aria,” Ethan said, his voice flat. “I wonder who’ll be the lucky guy to marry you.” He turned and left. I exchanged a look with my mother. Oh yes, the air was thick with jealousy. At the bridal boutique, Jenna waved excitedly at Ethan. Her face fell the moment she saw me. “Aria? Why are you here?” I waved back, my expression perfectly innocent. “My mom sent me. To help you two choose.” Jenna shot me a glare, but I simply linked my arm through Ethan’s, acting as if we were the ones getting married. A ghost of a smile played on Ethan’s lips. “Let’s go.” Jenna hurried to keep up. She had the consultant bring out the dress she’d reserved and twirled for Ethan. “Do you like it?” she cooed. He nodded, and she beamed, taking the dress into the fitting room. “Aren’t you going to try one on?” Ethan asked, looking at me. Before I could answer, he motioned for a consultant, who returned with a dress and placed it in my arms. It was a long, elegant fishtail gown. “Go on,” he said, his voice low. “Try it on.” Holding the dress, I was thrown back in time. I saw myself as a teenager, my hair in a high ponytail, pointing excitedly at a fishtail dress in a shop window. “When I get married,” I’d told him with a laugh, “I want to wear a dress like that. It’s like it was made for a mermaid.” When the curtain was drawn back, Jenna was already posing, having the consultant snap photos of her. Ethan had changed into a suit. As he came out, I stepped forward and instinctively straightened his collar. His eyes found mine and held them. For a moment, we were locked in our own world, a teenage dream finally realized in a way we never could have imagined. The consultant walked over, beaming. “You two look absolutely perfect together! Such a handsome couple. Let me take a picture for you.” Jenna rushed over, grabbing Ethan’s arm and shattering the moment. “I’m his fiancée,” she snapped. The consultant stammered an apology. “Oh, I’m so sorry, my mistake.” Fuming, Jenna said, “Let’s go, Ethan. We’re not getting our photos done at this shop.” I leaned towards the consultant and whispered, “Sorry about that. We’re not a couple. But maybe when I do get married, I’ll come back and have you take my pictures.” Jenna saw that Ethan’s gaze was still fixed on me. She let out a sudden gasp and crouched down, pretending to rub a sore ankle. “Ethan, honey, my foot hurts. Carry me.” That finally broke his trance. He moved to pick her up, but as he did, he looked back over his shoulder, his eyes boring into mine. I chuckled under my breath. “Tsk, what a player.” But I knew, deep down, I had an advantage she never would. I was the one he truly loved. It was only a matter of time.

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A week before our wedding, Jason left on a last-minute business trip. When he returned, he pulled me close and said, “You’ve put on weight.” I forced a smile. “Did you hold someone thinner?” He stiffened, kissed me to silence me, then showered as usual. Everything seemed normal. But it wasn’t. In 13 years together, he’d never called me fat. I checked his phone—nothing. Later, he hugged me, chuckling. “Mad over a joke? You just feel different.” I stayed quiet. The next morning, I called my parents: “Jason’s cheating. Wedding’s off.” 1 My parents urged me to investigate further. So I drove straight to Jason’s office. It was a Saturday, but he’d claimed he had to work, bailing on a date he’d promised me for weeks. I pulled out my phone, about to call him, but saw he’d already sent a message. We both had two social media accounts, one for work and one for personal stuff. We usually chatted on Flare, where we’d maintained a 4,000-day streak. Jason’s message seemed normal enough: “Hey babe, have you had lunch yet?” I stared at the screen, momentarily confused. Jason had always hated flashy things. When I’d begged him to use cute chat bubbles with me, he’d refused, calling them childish. But now, his messages were appearing in pink bunny-themed bubbles. I sent back a question mark. He read it instantly. When he replied, the chat bubble was back to the boring default. “Flare must be glitching,” he wrote. “What was that bubble just now? I have no idea.” No idea? I pursed my lips and did a quick search. I found countless videos of couples showing off their matching “lovey-dovey bunny” chat themes. The truth hit me like a ton of bricks. My fiancé was sharing a couple’s chat theme with another girl. I clicked on the “newest” tab for the theme. Ten minutes ago, an account called “SweetBunnyCake” had posted a screenshot of a conversation. It was just a bunch of sappy questions, like “Do you love me?” But the problem was the person on the other end of that conversation. The profile picture was unmistakably Jason. It was a candid shot I’d taken of him peeling shrimp for me. My breathing quickened. It felt like a terrible secret was about to surface. I clicked on SweetBunnyCake’s profile and saw a series of “A Day in the Life of a CEO’s Girl” vlogs, none of which had any views. I understood everything. Just then, Jason forwarded me her account, his voice message urgent. “Babe, don’t ignore me. I admit, I changed the chat bubble. It was to help a new assistant with a social media campaign to attract new talent.” “She’s just a kid, fresh out of college, full of ideas. She said young people love this kind of content and that it would be great for recruiting.” I didn’t reply. I got out of my car, walked into the building, and took the elevator to the top floor. I wanted to see for myself what kind of “young person” thought creating a couple’s social media account with her boss was a good way to recruit. 2 I expected an empty office, but to my surprise, everyone was actually working. I let out a small sigh of relief. At least Jason hadn’t lied about that. But then, my heart leaped into my throat. My eyes were fixed on the closed blinds of his office window. Jason hated closing his blinds. In all the years since he’d taken over the company, he had never once pulled them down. Not even when I came to visit. He never minded the staff seeing how affectionate we were. So why were they closed now? What was he hiding? I started towards his office, but a senior employee quickly stepped in my way, her smile stiff. “Mrs. Sterling! What a surprise to see you here today.” “I heard you two are getting married this weekend. I thought you’d be busy with wedding preparations!” Before I’d taken my leave to plan the wedding, everyone in the office knew how strict I was. No one would have dared to approach me so casually. My face went cold. I shoved her aside and pushed open the office door. Jason came out to greet me, a smile on his face as he wrapped an arm around my waist. “I sent you a message and you didn’t reply. Were you planning a surprise?” I ignored him, my gaze landing on the girl standing primly by his desk. She was the epitome of the “pale, young, and skinny” aesthetic. Definitely thinner than me. She noticed me looking and gave a small, polite nod. “Hello, Mrs. Sterling.” But in that one glance, I saw undisguised provocation and malice. I pushed Jason’s arm off me and slowly walked over to the girl, tilting her chin up with my finger. “What’s your name?” She didn’t look at me. Instead, she shot a pleading look at Jason and said nothing. I laughed. “I was on leave when you were hired, so you probably don’t know. I’m the one who calls the shots in this company. As the majority shareholder, don’t I have the right to ask an employee for her name?” My voice was dripping with arrogance. The girl’s eyes immediately filled with tears, as if she were the victim. Jason rushed over, pulling my hand away and stepping between us. “Her name is Laura,” he said, his tone laced with accusation. “She’s my new assistant. She’s just a kid, she doesn’t know any better. Why are you being so hostile?” I looked up into his slightly displeased eyes and smirked. “What, are you feeling sorry for her?” Jason’s face darkened. “Mia! This is the office! You’ve always been so professional. Why are you throwing a tantrum now? Do you enjoy making a scene?” In thirteen years, it was the first time Jason had ever yelled at me for my personality. In the past, plenty of people had found me arrogant and overbearing. But Jason had always defended me. “Mia comes from a family that gives her the right to be arrogant,” he would tell them. “Besides, if you don’t provoke her, she won’t lose her temper with you. Maybe you should look at yourselves.” But now, he was siding with a new assistant, without even knowing the full story. I shook my head. “No. I don’t enjoy it at all.” With that, I pushed past him and held my phone up to Laura’s face, the Flare app open. “Laura, is it? Explain this to me. I wasn’t aware my fiancé had a ‘CEO’s girl’ in his office.” 3 Laura’s tears started to fall, but her eyes remained fixed on Jason, as if waiting for him to defend her. He just stared at me, silent. She was just a kid, after all. She covered her face and ran out of the office. The gawking employees quickly averted their eyes. I scoffed and looked around the office, noticing several changes. The award-winning painting I’d done in high school, which used to hang on the wall, had been replaced by Laura’s profile picture from her Flare account. The tea set on his desk was gone, replaced by a bubble tea station. Jason didn’t even drink bubble tea. Even the high-end sofa I’d picked out was now covered in a creamy white teddy bear slipcover. The clues had been there all along. Jason followed my gaze, his face still grim. He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the company. In the car, he was silent, running red light after red light on the way home. The second we were through the door, he threw me over his shoulder, ignoring my struggles, and tossed me onto the bed. His kisses were frantic and rough. I fought back, my eyes red with tears, and kneed him hard. “Jason, are you insane?” He grunted in pain but quickly pinned my legs down. “I think you’re the one who’s insane, Mia! Are you really picking a fight with a kid?” “What, feeling insecure before the wedding? Fine, I’ll give you some security!” He ripped my clothes. I stopped struggling, looking at him calmly. “Is this your way of compensating for cheating?” Just one sentence, and he went limp. Jason finally let me go and went out to the balcony to smoke. One cigarette after another. He didn’t come back in for a long time. I changed my clothes and went out to join him. I picked up his pack of cigarettes and paused. Jason had started smoking at eighteen. For seven years, he’d only ever smoked one brand—the one I’d bought him for the first time. Right before his trip, he’d been begging me to buy him more. “All the other guys’ wives buy them cigarettes. You should too, babe.” The new cartons were still in transit, but now he was smoking a brand of blueberry-flavored cigarettes popular with female smokers. I pulled one out, lit it, and took a deep drag. It was sweet. It was the blueberry flavor Jason hated most. When the pack was empty, Jason finally turned to me, his eyes pleading. “Stop it, babe. Can you just stop?” “I know you have cold feet, but we’ve known each other for thirteen years. You know me better than anyone. How could I possibly cheat on you?” “Laura really is just an assistant. I swear.” “If you don’t like her, I’ll fire her right now. I’ll delete the account. Is that what you want?” I looked down, my eyelashes trembling, at the glowing embers in the twilight. My throat felt tight. “This business trip… did you go alone?” Jason didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” “You can check. I was the only one who checked into the hotel.” Since he’d said that, there was no point in checking. After a long pause, I slowly nodded. “Fine. I don’t want to see Laura tomorrow.” Laura was fired the next day. I heard she cried so much her eyes were swollen shut. I didn’t think Jason had physically cheated on me. He had probably just strayed for a couple of days in our seven-year relationship. With the wedding so close, I couldn’t bring myself to break up with him over a minor lapse in judgment. I couldn’t bear it. After that, life seemed to go back to normal. Jason’s cologne was still the one I’d chosen for him. The office was back to the way it was. He’d even unfollowed someone on Flare, and our 4,000-day streak continued. I thought it was over. Until the day before the wedding, when the manager of one of our branch offices called me. “Ms. Monroe, Mr. Sterling sent a girl over a few days ago. She’s not doing any work, but her salary is incredibly high. The other employees are really unhappy. Mr. Sterling isn’t answering his phone, so I had to call you.” 4 The manager sent me a copy of the company’s payroll for Laura, which Jason had approved for a full year in advance. Thirty thousand a month, plus a twenty-thousand-dollar bonus. And her job? She was just an intern, filing papers. Then, the manager sent a few photos of a Maserati, along with a list of employees assigned to the company’s luxury apartments—the ones reserved for top talent. Laura’s name was on the list. And the Maserati… it was the birthday present Jason had given me two years ago. I remembered it perfectly. My heart felt like it had been lifted up gently, only to be smashed to the ground, shattering into a million pieces. The pain was so intense I could barely breathe. The manager’s messages kept coming, complaining about how Laura had been there for five days and had already gotten into fights with five different employees, all of whom Jason had fired the next day. I never in my life imagined that Jason, the man who loved me more than life itself, would be keeping a mistress. Right under my nose. I sat in silence for a long time, then wiped the cold tears from my face and replied, “Sue her. I didn’t hire her, so all salary and bonuses are to be reclaimed. Don’t worry about the rest.” After confirming everything with the manager, my parents called. “Sweetheart, we’ve been thinking. If you think he’s cheating, there must be a reason. Let’s just cancel the wedding! We can deal with the fallout with his family later!” I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal. “It’s fine. I was overthinking it. The wedding is still on. See you tomorrow, Mom and Dad.” I don’t know how long I sat there after that. It was dark when I finally went home. Jason was on his phone, about to call me. He smiled when he saw me. “There you are. Tomorrow’s the big day. Let’s celebrate a little early.” I looked at the feast on the table and forced a smile. “Okay.” Jason seemed genuinely happy. He had a few extra glasses of wine, his face flushed. “I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve waited for so long. It feels like a dream.” “We grew up together, went to the same college… We’ve never been apart, and we never will be.” “So, are you tired of me?” I interrupted his sentimental speech, giving him one last chance to be honest. Jason paused, seeming to sober up a bit. But then he shook his head, his voice firm and serious. “No. Marrying you and growing old with you… that’s been my dream since I first saw you when I was twelve. I love you, Mia.” His words were so touching, my nose started to burn and my eyes welled up with tears. It was true. He’d been chasing me since he was twelve. We got together at eighteen. And now, at twenty-five, we were about to get married. We’d been together for half my life. I had believed we would never be apart. But the truth was a slap in the face. A little detour in our long-term relationship… I couldn’t stomach it. I smiled, downed my glass of wine, and stood up, not responding to his declaration of love. “You’ve had too much to drink. You should get some sleep. Good night.” Tradition dictated that we sleep apart the night before the wedding, but Jason didn’t want to leave, so we just slept in separate rooms. As I closed my bedroom door, I heard the click of a lighter. I didn’t sleep a wink. The next morning, after getting my makeup done, we went to the wedding venue. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of—a sprawling lawn, a crowd of cheerful guests. The only thing missing was a genuinely happy couple. Laura was sitting in the audience, her eyes fixed on Jason and me. He didn’t spare her a single glance. The officiant was going through the motions. The moment the wedding march began, the large screen that was supposed to be showing our engagement photos went black. The guests all turned to look. A second later, the room erupted in gasps. The screen lit up with a slideshow of intimate, couple-like photos of Jason and Laura from his business trip. There were screenshots of their chats, filled with “hubby” and “wifey.” There was security footage of them being affectionate in his office. And there was a photo from the night before, of Jason sneaking out to kiss a crying Laura under a streetlight. “Jason! I entrusted my daughter to you, and this is how you treat her—”

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The year I turned sixteen, my stepmother found an excuse to lock me out of the house. My father, just home from a business dinner, went along with it. Stubbornly, I held my ground. As the standoff stretched, a woman’s voice cut through the tension, clear and firm. “If you don’t want her, I’ll take her.” My father and stepmother exchanged a look, then silently shut the door. When that woman appeared, I thought I was falling into a new abyss. In truth, she was my salvation. 1 “Aria, you’re the older sister. Leo is your little brother. What’s the big deal about letting him have his way? When you get married, you’ll need your brother to have your back. If you’re hitting him now, what will you be like later?” My stepmother, Susan, blocked the doorway, her voice a relentless drill in my ear. “And don’t you dare argue with me. From this moment on, you can go wherever you want. We can’t afford to keep a princess like you. Go find a bridge to sleep under! You’re just like that tramp of a mother you have. No wonder she didn’t want you after the divorce.” I refused to show weakness, my lips pressed into a thin line to hold back the tears, my nails digging so deep into my palms they nearly drew blood. The heavy backpack couldn’t bend my spine; I stood ramrod straight. We were locked in a stalemate. My father would be home soon, but he always sided with Susan. My biological parents had each started new families, and neither wanted me. My father and stepmother had only reluctantly taken me in because they figured they could marry me off for a hefty sum to support my brother someday. But recently, one of my father’s construction projects had hit it big. I was no longer a necessary asset. A few minutes later, the elevator dinged. My father, Mark, appeared, pot-bellied and staggering. He was flushed and reeked of alcohol from whatever dinner he’d just left. Susan immediately launched her attack. “Mark, you’re just in time! This little brat was bullying Leo while I was washing some fruit. She pushed him to the ground! He has a huge bump on his head. She’s getting more rebellious by the day. You need to throw her out!” I knew Susan had been looking for a reason to get rid of me, constantly trying to drive a wedge between my father and me. Besides, my father had never wanted a daughter in the first place. On cue, Leo peeked out from behind Susan, his eyes red and his cheeks still wet with tears. He didn’t say a word, just looked at our father with a pitiful expression. That was all it took. My father exploded. “Aria, you worthless girl! You dare push my son?” Without another word, he swung his hand and slapped me across the face. He didn’t hold back. The impact sent a burning shock through my cheek, and my head spun. His voice boomed, full of righteous fury. “I don’t want you anymore! Get out! Go wherever the hell you want!” “Dad, I didn’t—” I clutched my stinging face, desperate to explain. “Didn’t what? I saw it with my own eyes!” Susan cut me off, giving me no chance. My father’s face was beet red. “Don’t say another word! You can go tell whoever you want, see if I care. If the neighbors ask, we’ll just say you ran off with some boy. Now go! Get out!” He started shoving me, and I stumbled backward. In that instant, a wave of humiliation and helplessness washed over me. Tears welled up, blurring my vision. I hated them. I hated that I wasn’t grown up yet, that I couldn’t choose the family I was born into. Our shouting must have been loud because the door to the apartment next to ours opened. A young, elegant woman with a kind face peeked her head out. “If you don’t want her,” she said, her voice calm but resonant, “then I’ll take her.” 2 She was smiling, her tone light as if she were joking, but her eyes were serious. The shouting in the hallway had clearly caught her attention. My father and stepmother glanced at each other, then at her. Without another word, they turned, went back inside, and shut the door. The heavy slam of the door jolted me back to reality, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. The woman from next door walked over, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and gently guided me into her home. It wasn’t my first time in her apartment. The week before, school had let out early on a weekend, and I’d forgotten my key. I called Susan, who was in the middle of a Mahjong game. I could hear someone yelling “I won!” in the background before she snapped at me, “What’s the rush? Just wait by the door,” and hung up. So I sat on the staircase, miserable with period cramps, my head feeling fuzzy. That’s when my neighbor found me and insisted I come inside to rest. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, pulling me into her apartment. Her home was immaculate and smelled wonderful. I was too scared to sit down. She must have sensed my anxiety because she smiled and gently pressed me down onto the sofa. I remember it was incredibly soft. She made me a warm drink with brown sugar and gave me a hot water bottle for my stomach. Who would have thought the second time I’d enter her home would be at the lowest moment of my life? I didn’t know if my father and Susan were serious. But they hadn’t stopped her. My neighbor looked at the red handprint on my cheek and handed me an ice pack. “Here,” she said softly. “Put this on your face.” I took it numbly and pressed it to my cheek, my eyes fixed on the floor. I’d only been sitting for a few minutes, my mind still reeling, when there was a knock at the door. She went to answer it. It was Susan, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face. In her hand was a dusty cloth bag containing my few clothes and books. “These are Aria’s things,” she said. “If you decide you don’t want her either, you can just kick her out. No need to tell us.” My neighbor glanced at the bag. Her back was to me, so I couldn’t see her expression. But it seemed like she smiled. Then, her voice gentle but firm, she held out her hand to my stepmother. “Good. Give them to me.” I stood up, my face pale, my body trembling uncontrollably. I had really been thrown out. My entire life’s possessions fit into a single bag Susan could carry with one hand. It was pathetic. And my own father hadn’t even bothered to show his face. My neighbor closed the door and set the bag down by the sofa. “My name is Rebecca,” she said. “Why don’t you stay here for now? I know you’re hurting. We can talk when you feel a bit calmer, okay?” Her eyes were clear and kind. I wiped away my tears and slowly nodded. Rebecca smiled at me and then went to prepare a room. If not here, I was already wondering which underpass I could call home. She returned with a long dress. “I’ve never worn this one. You can use it for now. We’ll go buy you some new clothes tomorrow.” I took it numbly, looking up at her. There was something about her that was incredibly calming. “Go take a shower,” she said, leading me to the bathroom. “It’s so hot out.” She handed me a new towel and toothbrush. The feeling of being a stranger in someone else’s home, a burden, was overwhelming. I felt completely lost. But under her gentle guidance, I settled in. 3 Everything in the room was new, a stark reminder that I was homeless. Rebecca had taken me in, giving me a place to stay. Both our apartments were two-bedroom layouts. At my father’s house, I slept on the narrow, cramped balcony, which was also where they hung the laundry. Compared to that, this warm, clean, comfortable room felt like a dream. Lying on the bed, the sense of unreality began to fade. My tattered cloth bag sat quietly by the door. I didn’t unpack. I didn’t know how long I would be staying. Rebecca knocked and came in with a glass of warm milk. “Drink this before you sleep.” I quickly sat up and took it, sipping it slowly under her gentle gaze. “We’ve met before, remember?” she asked, her voice calm and soft. I nodded. “Don’t be afraid,” she said. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m helping you because… when I saw what was happening, it was like seeing myself, a long time ago.” Her words were so candid, so kind. I was stunned, my head snapping up to look at her. She just smiled, not continuing the topic. “Alright, get some rest for tonight. We can talk about everything else later.” She patted my shoulder and closed the door behind her. I placed the empty glass on the nightstand, speechless for a long time. The future was a terrifying unknown, but that night, for the first time in a long time, I slept soundly. 4 The next morning, Rebecca had already bought breakfast. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got a little of everything,” she said with a smile. “Brush your teeth and come eat.” After washing up, I walked over timidly. She sensed my unease and gently pulled me into a chair. The table was laden with food I’d only ever seen in restaurants: savory beef congee, fried dough sticks, steamed buns, eggs, milk, sweet pastries. I took a spoonful of the congee. It was hot, so hot it brought tears to my eyes. Rebecca noticed and gently stroked my hair. After breakfast, she drove me to a shopping mall. I’d been to malls before, but only to carry bags for Leo. We used to live in the countryside. For the first few years after Susan married my dad, before she had Leo, she was decent to me. She’d make me warm egg custard and buy me candy when I fell. Everything changed after she gave birth to a son. For him, my father found a new drive. He moved us to the city, worked his way up to a small-time construction contractor, and started making real money. Once he no longer needed to marry me off for cash, the facade dropped. I became Leo’s nanny. I did his laundry, cooked his meals, helped with his homework, and served as his punching bag. He loved to pull my hair, so I eventually cut it short. He’d rip up my homework, so I learned to do it only when he wasn’t around. Then one night, he snuck onto the balcony while I was sleeping and started pulling at my clothes. I woke up with a start to a dark shape moving over me and screamed. My father and Susan came running, Susan cursing. I tearfully explained what happened. Susan just rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing to see anyway. What’s the big deal if your little brother takes a look? He’s just a kid, what could he possibly do? You’re making a fuss over nothing!” Leo, hiding behind her, nodded eagerly, a triumphant smirk on his face. He wasn’t just a kid. He knew exactly what he was doing. The memory was a dark vortex, pulling me down. “What’s wrong? We’re here. Come on.” Rebecca’s voice broke through the haze. I shook my head, pushing the thoughts away. She bought me clothes and shoes. I was so self-conscious trying things on, but she kept complimenting me, acting like a real older sister. She noticed my old brick of a phone and, after a moment’s thought, bought me a new smartphone. I looked at her, horrified by the expense. “I trust you’ll use it for good things,” she said, reassuring me. “Besides, we need a way to stay in touch.” On our way home, our arms full of shopping bags, we ran into my father, Susan, and Leo heading out. Leo had been begging to go to the amusement park all week. We met them at the first-floor elevator. The smiles on their faces from talking to Leo froze when they saw us and our mountain of bags. Rebecca gave them a polite smile, then turned to me. “Let’s go home.” As the elevator doors closed, I could see them staring after us. I didn’t know if they were looking at me or at the things in my hands. See? I really was disposable. I’d known for a long time that you can’t force family to love you, but it still hurt. I had parents, but neither of them wanted me. “Sometimes, being disconnected from family is a blessing in disguise,” Rebecca said softly. She shifted all the bags to one hand and put the other on my shoulder, her voice incredibly soothing. I looked up at her, and her warm smile gave me strength. I nodded. At the time, I didn’t fully understand what she meant, but I never forgot her words. 5 We also went to the supermarket and bought a lot of groceries. “Big sister is going to show off her skills,” Rebecca announced with a grin before disappearing into the kitchen. I tried to help, but she pushed me out and closed the door. Her “skills” turned out to be one single, very questionable dish. “So? My cooking is pretty good, right?” she asked, her face full of expectation. “It’s delicious!” I said, forcing a smile. I couldn’t bear to disappoint her. And I certainly couldn’t tell her that I was a much better cook than she was. It was the first time in years I wasn’t eating leftovers. I was overwhelmed. It felt like I had stepped into a completely different life. Rebecca worked a lot and often wasn’t home. High school was the turning point, my only path to the life I dreamed of, and I couldn’t afford to slack off. My freshman year had been at a school in our old town; they’d only brought me to the city to take care of Leo. The quality of education was worlds apart. I was a top student back there, but here, I had to fight just to stay off the bottom. I had no time for sorrow. I memorized vocabulary and texts on my way to and from school. I filled notebook after notebook with corrected mistakes. I broke down complex problems into manageable pieces until I understood them completely. I was like a sponge, endlessly absorbing knowledge, driven by a relentless hunger to learn more. Rebecca and I rarely saw each other. She gave me a spare key. “This is your home now,” she told me. “I’ll support you through school. If you feel bad about it, just think of it as a loan.” I looked up at her, at her gentle smile. And I started to study with a ferocious intensity. I gave up everything else, pouring all my energy into building a future. In less than three months, the thick calluses on my hands from years of chores began to soften. My sensitive, insecure personality slowly started to change, becoming calmer, more like hers. The damp misery of rainy days, the scorching heat of summer, the lack of a proper desk to work at—all the suffocating anxieties of my past life began to fade away. I rarely thought about my father’s family anymore. It was as if I was truly detaching from that oppressive existence. Only occasionally, seeing the trash bags left outside their door would remind me of the home that was no longer mine. We didn’t cross paths often. When my school started holding evening classes, I got home even later. Sometimes, if Rebecca was done with work, she would come to pick me up. We would walk home together. She’d ask about my studies, and I’d tell her about my progress. She would praise me, always encouraging me. I would watch her silently, seeing the exhaustion that no amount of makeup could hide. 6 The first time I realized something was wrong with me was on a Saturday afternoon in my junior year. Rebecca got off work early to pick me up. Cars weren’t allowed near the school gate, so she walked over. She was so beautiful and sophisticated. Everyone was staring at her—men and women alike. For a split second, I was overcome by a possessiveness so sharp it almost choked me. I ran towards her, and she waved. I grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the car. She was wearing heels and couldn’t keep up. “Slow down, Aria!” she called out. I didn’t listen. I pulled her faster, trying to leave all those prying eyes behind. “What’s wrong? There are people everywhere. Let’s walk slower.” “No!” I snapped. My tone was so harsh, so unlike me, that it startled her. She went quiet and let me drag her all the way to the car. But once we were inside, my bravado vanished. I lowered my head, suddenly feeling small and guilty. Rebecca just laughed, not angry at all. “You finally get a day off tomorrow. Want to go out somewhere? I’ll take you.” I shook my head. “Alright, you can think about it. How about we go get something to eat now?” I looked up, my eyes shining with renewed happiness. “Okay!” In the supermarket, she pushed the cart while I clung to her arm, holding on tightly. The spot where our arms touched became the sole focus of my attention. It’s normal for two girls to walk like this. But for me… it wasn’t normal. It felt like something inside me had suddenly clicked into place. Something was budding—shy, hidden, and dark, yet desperately craving the light. When I realized what that feeling was, I yanked my hand away as if I’d been burned. Rebecca was completely baffled. “What is it?” “Oh, nothing, nothing,” I stammered. “I just… I want some yogurt.” “Okay,” she said. “Go get it then.” “Right.” I practically fled. That was the first time I understood my own heart. Something had taken root and was growing into a strange, new emotion.

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A run in my stockings right before a job interview. In a panic, I called my rival. “Are you out of your car yet? Come give me a hand.” A stubborn voice on the other end. “I’m not following you.” I didn’t even look up from my ruined legwear. “You copy my outfits, my makeup, even my perfume, every single day. Now get over here. I can smell you.” 1 The other end of the line erupted in a flurry of flustered, girly squeaks. After what felt like an eternity, she finally calmed down enough to answer. “Okay… just give me a minute.” I hung up without another word, only to turn and find my best friend, Maya, staring at me with a look of pure confusion. “Who was that? So on-call for you?” “Trevor’s little lapdog.” Maya’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit, Chloe. You’ve got guts, asking your rival for a favor.” “She’s not really a rival. She’s just a simp for Trevor. I doubt he even remembers her name.” Maya let out a breath of relief. “That’s true. Half the campus is crushing on him, but you’re the only girl he ever actually looks at.” She paused. “So, is this girl pretty?” I thought for a moment. “I guess so. She just doesn’t have her own style. She copies everything I wear.” We walked into the office building and found the restroom to await the stocking delivery. Suddenly, Maya started shaking me by the shoulders. “She copies you? Everything? Oh my god, do you think she’s trying to replicate your path to success?” Her eyes grew wider. “Or maybe she’s into some weird voodoo shit! Trying to steal your luck by mimicking you! What if your recent string of failed interviews is her doing?!” I was stunned by the sheer chaos of her imagination. That little pipsqueak, practicing dark arts? Her big, innocent eyes practically screamed, “I am a simple, harmless creature.” The thought of her—with all her wide-eyed, collegiate naivety—trying to curse me was almost laughable. “I wish she’d try something,” I snorted. “Unfortunately, my job-hopping saga is entirely orchestrated by my dear old dad. He can’t stand any place I choose to work. My whole life is a puppet show he directs. If she wants to stir the pot, I say bring it on. My life could use the spice.” Maya rolled her eyes, a pained expression on her face like she was staring at a class enemy. “You’re living the dream and you don’t even know it. But what if she actually manages to steal Trevor away from you?” I considered it. “That would be great.” After all, Trevor’s entire contribution to our relationship consisted of three daily texts: Have you had breakfast? Have you had lunch? Have you had dinner? Having a boyfriend like that was pointless, not to mention the moral pressure it put on me not to look at other guys. Honestly, it would be better if he was gone. But since my father had set us up, I couldn’t be the one to break it off. If someone else was chasing him, I could just let nature take its course. Once they got together, I could play the victim and end things. I’d like to see my dad try to argue with that. Before Maya could say another word, my phone buzzed. It was my little copycat, Nina. “Chloe? I’m right outside the door. But… could you ask your friend to step out for a second? I’m a little shy.” 2 I had to laugh. She shadowed my every move, imitated my entire life, and now she was shy. Interesting. Maya left the restroom to wait for me in the lobby. I leaned against the marble sink, waiting. From outside the door, I heard a few deep, steadying breaths. Then, a small head peeked in. Her eyes were huge, blinking rapidly, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. When she finally stepped all the way inside, her hands were knotted together at her stomach, twisting nervously. She was like a kitten. This was the college girl who was supposedly my rival? This adorable thing? “Chloe… what did you need my help with?” Even her voice was soft and sweet. I pushed myself off the counter and gave her a slow once-over, from head to toe. “Your stockings. Are they intact?” “Huh?” Nina quickly looked down, checking her legs. “Yes, they’re fine.” “Good. Take one off and give it to me.” I held her gaze, not letting her look away. “Um… well…” Her ears turned a flaming red, and her eyes started to well up. “Chloe, did you get a run in yours? I can run out and buy you a new pair right now.” “You know this brand isn’t easy to find.” I took a step closer to her. “Everything you’re wearing right now, from your dress to your shoes, is the exact same as mine. Taking one of your stockings isn’t asking too much, is it?” “I… I didn’t mean to make you angry,” she whispered, her lip trembling. “Take it off,” I said, my voice hardening. If she kept dawdling, my interview would be shot, no paternal interference needed. Nina bit her lip, her face pale as she carefully peeled off one of her stockings and handed it to me. I took it, gave it a little shake, and slid it onto my own leg. This girl… she was about my height and had a similar build. She’d make a perfect mobile backup wardrobe. When I finished adjusting it and looked up, Nina was covering her mouth and nose, her eyes bloodshot and crimson. Oh. Did she think I was some kind of creep? I cleared my throat. “I’m not taking it for free. I’ll buy you a new pair.” Nina just shook her head, her hand clamped tightly over her mouth. I thought for a moment. There were many kinds of creeps; I shouldn’t let her get the wrong idea. “And if you dare tell anyone about this,” I threatened, “I’ll strip you of every last piece of clothing you copied from me!” That… probably made me sound even more like a creep. “Mmmph,” she mumbled, her head bobbing between a nod and a shake, before she turned and bolted out of the restroom without a backward glance. Damn. Did my pervy act scare the poor girl off for good? 3 I smoothed down my outfit and walked out to meet Maya, who was practically vibrating with curiosity. “What did you do to her?” I lifted my leg slightly, showing her the pristine stocking. Maya frowned. “You took hers?” “Yup.” Her jaw dropped. “I just offered you mine and you said no! But you’ll turn around and bully your rival for hers? Aren’t you afraid she’ll run to Trevor and tell him what a psycho you are?” I linked my arm with hers as we headed for the elevator. “Relax. She has the desire, but not the nerve.” It was about a year ago that I first noticed a girl constantly staring at Trevor. I was about to graduate, and he was a junior. He’d thrown a party with a few close friends to celebrate my “homecoming to inherit the family business,” and Nina was the only stranger he’d brought along. “This is Nina,” he’d announced. “She’s a freshman from one of my clubs. Totally invisible, so she’s perfect for serving us drinks.” I was instantly annoyed. Trevor could be thoughtless, but he never used his family’s status to look down on people. What he was doing now—whether it was bullying her or some bizarre attempt to introduce her to our social circle—was deeply unpleasant. But Nina didn’t seem to mind at all. With her bright, kitten-like eyes, she actually started going around asking everyone what they wanted to drink. When she got to me, however, she became exceptionally nervous, fumbling for much longer than with anyone else. Once the drinks were served, she retreated to a dark corner, a small, shadowy figure melting into the background. She didn’t look at Trevor, nor did she try to talk to anyone. Just like he said, she was completely invisible. I found it intriguing, so I brought a glass of soda over to her. “Want something to drink?” “No, thank you. I need to look after everyone.” I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s just soda.” “Oh.” She took the glass, sniffed it cautiously, and then took a tiny sip. “Thank you… Chloe.” “You came here with Trevor,” I said, getting straight to the point. “You know he has a girlfriend, and that girlfriend is me. Right?” “I know.” “And you still came, trying to steal him away. You’re pretty bold.” “I… Chloe, please don’t misunderstand. I didn’t come for Trevor, I… I…” She started choking on her words, but she remembered to grab my hand. “I came because…” Before she could finish, Trevor appeared at our side. “Chloe, what are you doing? Why did you push her? She’s choking.” Excuse me? I shot a look at Nina. She immediately jumped to her feet, her stutter gone. “It has nothing to do with Chloe! I choked all by myself!” Trevor’s face darkened. “Trevor, don’t be mad at her,” Nina pleaded. “It was all my fault.” Wow. The textbook victim play. The atmosphere froze. One of our friends stepped in. “Nina, that was some seriously manipulative BS. Can you just stop? And Trevor, Chloe is your actual girlfriend. Get a grip on who you’re supposed to be defending.” He turned to me. “Come on, Chloe. Let’s not waste our time with them. Let’s get a drink.” After that, Nina was left alone in her corner. This time, she was so enveloped by the darkness I could barely see her. She didn’t say another word to Trevor for the rest of the night. But every now and then, I’d feel her anxious, mournful gaze drift over to me. Oh, for heaven’s sake. With her red-rimmed eyes and trembling demeanor, she was just too damn cute. I bet she’d be back pestering Trevor tomorrow. Good. I couldn’t wait to see her again. 4 To my surprise, the next day she wasn’t trailing Trevor. She was trailing me. The moment I stepped out of my apartment, I saw Nina hiding not-so-subtly, pretending to be on her phone while she watched me. I went to grab breakfast. Before my seat was even warm, she had bought the exact same pastry and tucked it into her bag. I went shopping. In the blink of an eye, she had managed to find and change into the same outfit I was wearing. Damn it. I’d revealed my favorite boutiques to her. Still, there was something strangely thrilling about seeing her in my clothes. Was my style really that captivating? And what did it say about Trevor? Was it my face or my fashion that had won him over? I called Trevor to meet me and pointed to Nina, who was attempting to hide behind a large tree. “Who’s prettier, me or her?” “You are,” Trevor said, without a flicker of interest. “Look closer,” I urged. “Nina is wearing the exact same outfit as me today.” “Even in the exact same outfit, you’re prettier,” he stated flatly. “So it’s my face you’re attracted to?” I smirked. Trevor rubbed the back of his neck. “Chloe, what’s this about? You know it’s your dad’s face that really attracts me.” We both burst out laughing. So Nina’s mimicry was useless. What Trevor was really after was my father’s fortune. Hearing our laughter, Nina, leaning against her tree, stumbled as if she’d been struck. Look at her, all flustered. She wanted to steal my man but only had the guts to eavesdrop from a distance. It was both pathetic and adorable. From then on, Nina followed me everywhere, copying my clothes, my shoes, my perfume, right down to my hair ties. And whenever Trevor and I had a date, she would magically appear, contriving some reason to be there, trying to make her presence known. A waitress in a coffee shop. A ball girl at the tennis court. Selling popcorn at the movie theater. You name it, she’d done it. It got to the point where, on my dates with Trevor, I found myself looking forward to Nina’s next surprise appearance. The unexpected, the playful, the shy… each new persona sent a thrill of mischievous delight through me. Ugh. Who was she really doing all this for? 5 The interview ended. As expected, thanks to a preemptive call from my father, I did not get the job. But I wasn’t mad. You work to earn money, and the allowance my dad gave me was more than enough. My little excursions into the corporate world were just a game to add some “father-daughter bonding” excitement to our otherwise dull lives. Maya, who had kept me company all morning, got called away by her boyfriend. I remembered I had a boyfriend too, so I gave Trevor a call. “Are you busy?” “Nope.” “Want to go on a date?” “Actually, I am a little busy.” So childish. I hung up and opened a photo Trevor’s roommate had just sent me. There was Trevor, in a secluded grove on campus, his arms around a girl, “tutoring” her on vocabulary with his lips. And standing behind a large rock, radiating a storm cloud of resentment, was Nina. Sigh. Looks like she was finally realizing that copying my wardrobe wasn’t going to work. I called her. Her voice was thick and muffled when she answered. “Chloe.” The raw hurt in that single word made my heart ache. “Meet me at the campus gate. I’m bringing your stocking back.” I drove straight to the university and picked up a red-eyed, puffy-faced Nina. “Crying this hard,” I asked with a gentle smile. “You must really be in love with him, huh?” “I’m not,” she mumbled, turning her head to stare out the window. “You’re not crying, or you’re not in love?” “Not in love!” She whipped her head back to face me. Interesting. “You’ve been chasing him for a year, and you’re not in love? You’re crying your eyes out because you saw him kissing another girl, and you’re not in love?” “That’s because…” Nina started, clearly agitated, but then she paused, composing herself. “I feel bad for you. He has an amazing girlfriend like you, and he still cheats!” The car fell silent. I swallowed hard, replaying the dynamics between the three of us in my head. Was she upset because Trevor was kissing someone else, or because Trevor was betraying me? But then, didn’t she ever think that her constant pursuit of him might hurt me? “Nina, you…” I pulled the car over into a parking spot and turned to face her fully. Nina kept her head down, her eyes still red, twisting the hem of her skirt. She’d changed back at her dorm and was now wearing an outfit identical to one I often wore during my senior year. “Nina,” I asked softly, “are you in love with me?” Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. As she moved, her soft lips brushed against my cheek. “I’m so sorry, so sorry!” Her face turned a deep crimson. “I didn’t mean to. I mean, yes, I like you, but I’m not a freak, I just…” What was I supposed to do? This flustered, panicked version of her was like a startled fawn. Oh, damn. My heart was about to go into overdrive.

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After being reborn as the tragic heroine of a romance novel, I accidentally picked up the wrong script—the one where I’m deeply in love with the second female lead. When she tripped and fell, I tore into my A-list actor boyfriend. “A whole person falls down right in front of you, and you just stand there? Are you just decorative?!” When she was getting attacked by online trolls, I grabbed my phone and single-handedly launched a counter-offensive. When she posted a photo with my boyfriend, I commented: “You have such terrible taste in men. Let me set you up with someone decent.” My Boyfriend: “…” The Other Woman: “…” Later, my boyfriend had me blacklisted from the industry. But the girl he did it for, the supposed “other woman,” spent the entire night comforting me. “So you’re blacklisted? Big deal,” she said, her voice fierce. “If it comes to it, I’ll quit the industry with you!” That was the night the system, which had been frozen since my arrival, finally came online. [Bzzzt—! Host, aren’t you supposed to be suffering a tragic miscarriage right now? Why are you getting all lovey-dovey with the second female lead?] 1 I took my best friend and my boyfriend hiking. They teamed up to push me off a cliff. The good news: I was caught by the park staff. The bad news: One was wearing all black, the other all white. They looked suspiciously like the Grim Reaper’s interns. They told me I’d lived a good life, so I was due for a great reincarnation. Before they could finish, I was whisked away. I had transmigrated. The bad news: There was an accident during the transfer. The system crashed and went offline. The good news: Before it died, it managed to toss me the script. This whole whirlwind of events left me speechless. I opened the script, and the first page had only one sentence in a massive, bold font: [UNCONDITIONALLY PROTECT THE FEMALE LEAD: JULES SONG.] The good news: Jules Song and I were filming the same reality TV show. The bad news: She had just fallen down right next to me. The top star, Liam Riverwood, was standing right in front of her. From his angle, all he could see was the picture of delicate distress: Jules, clutching her knee, brow furrowed, biting her lip, looking utterly pitiful. And then there was me, standing beside her like an idiot. Her eyes, shimmering with tears, flickered towards me. “Julia, you…” Her tone was loaded with meaning. Every head swiveled in my direction. The most piercing gaze belonged to my secret boyfriend, Liam. I used the few brain cells I had left to analyze the situation and then pointed my finger squarely at him. “A whole human being managed to fall over right in front of you. Are you just paid to stand there and look pretty?” 2 The live stream chat exploded. [Uh? What? Why is she blaming Liam?] [Is this woman insane?] [Wow, shifting blame much? Pathetic.] Liam himself was stunned, clearly not expecting me to say that. I pointed at Jules on the ground. “You were standing face-to-face with her. I was standing to her side. Geometrically speaking, you had a much clearer view. Not only did you fail to catch her, but you just stood there like a statue after she fell! What, were you waiting for her to bounce back up?” Hearing this, Jules tried to push herself up. “It has nothing to do with Liam, I was just being clumsy.” I rushed to help her, but the moment my hand touched her, she let out a sharp cry of pain. Liam panicked. He shoved me aside and swooped in to lift Jules into his arms. A pang of pain shot through my heart. …Except he couldn’t lift her. He tried again, grunting with effort. Good news: he got her off the ground. Bad news: he threw out his back. Even worse news: he dropped her. A shriek escaped my lips. “My God! With a spine as fragile as a sparrow’s fart, what possessed you to even attempt a princess carry?!” Liam’s face turned black. I swiftly scooped Jules out of his failed embrace and gently set her down on a nearby chair. For a moment, a look of sheer disbelief crossed everyone’s face. “Is Julia… having a breakdown?” Of course I wasn’t. I just didn’t want to fail my mission. Yes. That had to be it. I successfully brainwashed myself. I turned to get the first-aid kit. When I looked back, Liam had already moved Jules just outside the camera’s frame. He was kneeling in front of her, blowing gently on her scraped knee. “Is that better?” Jules smiled faintly. “Mm-hm.” His voice was laced with a sort of weary fondness. “You’re still so careless when you walk.” Another pang. Sharper this time. Jules started to say something else but then she saw me. She gave Liam a little push. “Julia’s here.” Liam glanced at me, a flicker of discomfort on his face. I knew why. According to the script, I had been with him since he was a nobody. We had survived on instant ramen and shared single chicken wings. Back then, the most sincere thing he ever said was: The day I make it big, I’m going to tell the whole world I have the best girlfriend ever. But when he finally made it, he found a new girl. And another. And another. Jules was just the latest in a long line, though she might be the last. She was the prettiest, the most understanding. Thinking of this, I asked him, “If I hadn’t come over, were you planning to keep blowing on her knee all day?” Jules looked nervous and reached for Liam’s arm. The other cast members and the crew started looking over. His voice was a low warning. “Julia, don’t push it.” That set me off. “I’m pushing it? Liam, are you an absolute moron? Do you have any idea how disgusting your mouth is? It’s a petri dish for bacteria, and you’re blowing it all over her open wound! What if it gets infected?” The entire set went silent. Then, a few people failed to stifle their laughter. Liam’s face burned with humiliation. “You… you…” “‘You, you, you’ what? Bad back, and a bad brain to match.” Liam stormed off in a rage. I grinned, kneeling in front of Jules with a cotton swab. “The Neanderthal’s gone. Don’t worry, I’ll disinfect this for you!” 3 Because Jules was injured, the rest of the day’s activities were scrapped in favor of a cozy fireside chat. Aside from Liam, who was forcing a smile, everyone else seemed to be in good spirits. The producer threw out a question. “What’s the most unforgettable hateful comment you’ve ever received online?” Jules was the first to speak. She glanced at Liam, then said softly: “In all my years in this industry, the thing that stuck with me the most was from three years ago, when my fantasy drama aired. Someone called me a thief.” I froze. If I remembered correctly, I was originally cast as the female lead in that drama. The day before filming started, I was replaced by Jules. Coincidentally, the male lead was also swapped out… for Liam. Thanks to his star power and promotion, the show became a minor hit, and Jules gained a million followers overnight. The live chat started buzzing again. [I remember that! Jules got so much hate, Julia’s fans were brutal.] [Well, Jules did steal Julia’s role. People are allowed to be mad.] [You all called Julia a has-been before, now you’re calling her fans crazy. Make up your minds.] [Lmao, cyberbullies always find a way to justify themselves.] Jules continued to recount her experience with the online mob, but I couldn’t listen anymore. I pulled out my phone and started scrolling. “Back then, every morning I’d wake up and my DMs would be full of people cursing me out, telling my whole family to die…” She was crying now, her eyes red and swollen. Liam moved to wipe her tears, but then he noticed me, head down, engrossed in my phone. “Julia, is this your idea of respect?” I had just looked up when he snatched the phone out of my hands. Ethan Siegel, another A-list actor on the show, saw Liam defending Jules and quietly looked away. Liam slammed my phone down on the table. “Since your phone is so fascinating, let’s all have a look, shall we?” He was furious, and the crew didn’t dare intervene. All the cameras zoomed in on my phone screen. Even though I knew this show was basically created for Jules, having my privacy exposed like this still stung. Liam opened the social media app I was on. The notifications tab was a sea of red, with a “99+” badge. He tapped on it. And froze. Troll_101: [Am I the only one who thinks Jules is a total fake?] Jules’sKnightInShiningArmor: [Yes. You are the only one. You are special. You are a unique little star. You are the light, the truth, and the one true myth.] Hater_4_Life: [Jules isn’t even that pretty. Why do so many people like her?] Jules’sKnightInShiningArmor: [Life is dull and full of pain, so a toad critiques a human.] RandomUser89: [Idk, Jules seems kinda basic.] Jules’sKnightInShiningArmor: [Oh, unlike you, I suppose. You’re like a goat that farted a sheep’s fart—both gassy and pretentious.] I had decided that replying to them one by one wasn’t efficient enough, so I’d made my own post. [Feel free to list all your complaints about Jules Song here. Get it all out of your system. I’ll be deleting all of it shortly. How dare you disrespect my queen? I am on the internet for one reason: to make Jules an empress. Those who follow me will prosper; those who oppose me will perish. Those who dare criticize me to my face will have their bloodline cursed for nine generations. Those who petition me online will face extreme punishment. Those who slander me in public and have it reach my ears will be gifted a vial of poison and told to do the honorable thing.] The set was dead silent for a long moment. Finally, Ethan Siegel spoke up. “Julia… this ‘Jules’sKnightInShiningArmor’… that wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?” I looked down and picked at my fingernails. “Is that a problem?” 4 The system’s script told me to unconditionally protect Jules, and I was doing a fantastic job. Maybe too fantastic. Fans online were starting to suspect we were secretly dating. And we weren’t the only ones caught up in shipping rumors. So was Ethan. He was Liam’s senior in the industry, a respected actor who’d never had a single scandal. But during today’s live streams, he had looked visibly dejected four separate times. Each time was right after Liam and Jules had a close moment. While the producers held an emergency meeting, I cornered him in the hallway. “Ethan, have you seen the trending topics online?” He shot back, “Julia, have you seen the ship name the fans have given you two?” Because our names both started with a ‘J’, fans had started calling us ‘J-Squared’. “I seem to recall… you and your junior colleague Liam aren’t exactly close.” “And I seem to recall you and Jules weren’t exactly close either.” Our eyes met. We suddenly lunged forward and hugged each other. “We’re two lonely souls in the same boat!” “I can’t believe I found a comrade here!” After our reunion, I asked him. “What’s your mission?” He sighed. “The system crashed the second I got here. It only had time to throw the script at me. My role is the tragic protagonist of a romance novel. The other protagonist… is Liam.” For the love of God, why did that sound so familiar? “Pardon my asking, but what’s your system’s ID number?” Ethan calmly stated three digits. “250.” For the love of God, it was the same one! The system was truly as idiotic as its ID suggested. This raised a question. “But seriously, why are our roles so weird? I’m Liam’s girlfriend, but I have to protect Jules. You’re his senior colleague, but you’re supposed to be tortured by him…” A thought flashed through my mind. “I’ve got it!” A spark of hope ignited in Ethan’s eyes. I stated my theory with grave seriousness. “Liam’s bisexual!” 5 The spark died. I don’t know if other people believe in the light, but in that moment, I saw it get extinguished from Ethan’s eyes. The disappointment was palpable. “So you’re saying… Liam and I are in love, but he’s fallen for Jules? And for her sake, he abandons me and ignores me, over and over, until I fall into a deep depression and die, at which point he finally realizes that I was the one he loved all along?” I snapped my fingers. “As expected of an award-winning actor! Your ability to piece together a plot is top-notch.” He frowned. “But you’re his official girlfriend!” I tutted. “You just don’t get it, do you? Me, Jules… we’re just pawns in your twisted game of angsty love.” “Tsk, this is juicy. You love Liam, but Liam is all over Jules. And me, his secret girlfriend, not only am I not mad, I’m actively trying to steal Jules away. Wow. Who wrote this stuff? It’s wild.” Ethan rubbed his temples. “So what I need to do now is… act like the heartbroken original partner whose boyfriend is cheating on him?” I gave him a sympathetic look. Ethan had been in the business for over a decade, playing countless iconic roles. This would be his first time playing a man whose boyfriend was cheating on him. The thought of such an elegant, handsome man having to play a tragic lover made me shiver on his behalf. I patted his shoulder. “Look on the bright side. You’re in your thirties. Prime time for a career challenge.” Ethan sighed, and his gaze suddenly shifted to something behind me. My heart skipped a beat. I whipped around to see Liam standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. Behind him stood Jules, her face a mask of disbelief. She looked exactly like someone who had just caught her boyfriend cheating. I yanked my hand off Ethan’s shoulder. Jules bit her lip and ran off. I instinctively moved to follow her but was blocked by Liam, who adSiegeld on me step by step. He sneered at Ethan. “I never knew you had a hobby of hitting on other people’s girlfriends, Ethan.” Ethan’s face was a portrait of grief. “There’s a lot you don’t know, isn’t there?” “I’m the one whose girlfriend is being hit on. Why do you look so heartbroken, Ethan?” Ethan just stared at him. I stared at him too. Liam looked confused. “What? Why are you both looking at me?” A faint redness crept into Ethan’s eyes. “Do you really not know what you’ve done?” Liam: “?” “What did I do?” Ethan didn’t answer. He just turned and walked away. Liam turned his bewildered gaze back to me. “What did I do?” I was still lost in admiration for Ethan’s superb acting, so I ignored him too. Liam exploded. “SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE HELL DID I DO?!”

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To piss off my rival, I started calling him “hubby” like one of his obsessive fangirls. On the basketball court, I’d yell with everything I had: “You’re so hot, hubby! You’re the best!” The result? He pinned me against a wall, kissing me hard before pulling back just enough to ask. “So, tell me more. How amazing is your hubby?” Wait, what? I thought he was homophobic?! 1 That morning, the driver had just brought the car to a smooth stop when I saw Justin’s silhouette flash past the window. Just a kid in a school uniform, his back lean and proud as he bent slightly to lock up his bicycle. I scrambled out of the car and chased him down, slapping him right on the ass. He shot upright, the look in his eyes promising murder. I danced a few steps back, a shit-eating grin on my face. “Damn, Justin, you’ve got a great ass! Feels good!” I taunted. “Why are you glaring at me like that? Want to feel mine in return?” I even stuck my own ass out for emphasis. Justin stared at me for two solid seconds, his face a stony mask. He said nothing, just finished locking his bike, walked around me, and disappeared through the school gates. Perfect. He was pissed. That meant I was happy. A beautiful day starts with getting under Justin’s skin. 2 I didn’t always want to be this way with Justin, but the guy just didn’t know what was good for him. He transferred to our school near the end of junior year. A transfer student at that time of year, combined with his striking looks, caused a massive stir among the girls in our grade. I didn’t pay him much attention at first. He was just another face in the classroom. Until one day, my driver was taking me to school when it started pouring rain. The car broke down halfway there. I tried calling for an Uber, but no one was accepting rides. Just then, Justin pulled up beside me on his beat-up old bicycle. “Hey, you’re going to be late,” he said. “I can give you a ride.” It was the first time in my seventeen years of life that I’d ever ridden on the back of a bicycle. That hard metal rack was pure agony on my ass. When we got to school, I dropped a hundred-dollar bill on his desk as a thank you. He frowned and pushed it back to me. “Hey, you dropped this.” He’s playing it cool, I thought. Is a hundred not enough? With a rare burst of patience, I explained it was for the ride he gave me that morning. Only then did a flicker of recognition cross his face. It turned out he had no idea who I was. Me. Charles Hale. I practically ran this school, and this guy didn’t even recognize me. Whatever. He was clueless, but I wasn’t the type to hold a grudge over something so small. If he wouldn’t take money, I’d buy him food, drinks, whatever. In my family, we don’t just accept favors without paying them back. But the bastard refused everything. Hah. What a poser. After watching him for a week or two, I realized the guy was a complete island. He had no friends, did nothing but attend class, read, and do practice problems. He was a total loner. Since he wouldn’t take gifts, I figured I’d try to be his friend. I invited him to play basketball, to grab food after school. He turned me down again. No one had ever turned me down so consistently. He was just asking for it. My crew, ever the opportunists, saw their chance. “Charles, you want us to teach him a lesson for you?” I was in the middle of a game and already pissed off, so I barely listened and just nodded. A few days later, I heard Justin had been beaten up. I was catching up on sleep at my desk when a stack of papers slammed down on it. I blinked my eyes open, confused. Justin stood over me, his face glacial. “You can have me beaten to death, but I will never do your homework for you.” I was completely lost. “When did I beat you up? And when did I ask you to do my homework?” He let out a cold, angry laugh. “Man enough to do it, but not to admit it.” That set me off. “You better have some proof before you start throwing accusations around, you asshole!” Justin’s gaze swept over me and my crew standing nearby, dripping with contempt. Whatever he was thinking, he just clenched his fists and walked away, seething. When I finally figured out what had happened, I chewed my guys out. I might be an arrogant prick, but I don’t bully people. I apologized to Justin later. He ignored me. At that point, I gave up on the whole “friendship” idea. I never imagined that one day, he’d be the one to report me. 3 During a break in our senior year, I was behind the old, abandoned warehouse with my crew, having a smoke. Even though none of us were academic superstars, the intense, stressed-out atmosphere of senior year was getting to me. A smoke break in this hidden corner had become my ritual. I had just lit a cigarette and put it to my lips. And there, at the entrance to our little hideout, stood Justin. With the Dean of Students. Justin pointed right at me. “Mr. Davison, the cigarette butts you found in the boys’ bathroom last week? That was them, too.” Son of a bitch. I glared at Justin. He just stared straight ahead, his expression placid. As if I didn’t even exist. Alright, Justin. You’ve crossed the line. This was war. But if he thought reporting me would get me in any real trouble, he was painfully naive. Like I said, I run this school. And why is that? Because the brand-new computer lab and the renovated library? My dad paid for them. I got an earful when I got home, but at school, I was untouchable. I made sure to rub it in his face. “What’s the matter? Surprised your little report did absolutely nothing to me?” Justin didn’t even look up from his worksheet. “Charles, I never expected you to get punished.” “Then why the hell did you bother reporting me?” He flipped his scratch paper over. “Smoking violates the student code of conduct. As your classmate, I’m simply concerned about your physical and mental well-being.” Concerned about my well-being, my ass. I kicked his desk and stormed off, cursing under my breath. Suddenly, Justin’s calm voice drifted after me. “But the guys you hang out with weren’t so lucky, were they?” After the Dean busted us, everyone except me got their bags searched. And unlike me, my crew wasn’t immune. One of them had something that had been reported stolen in his backpack. Besides writing apologies, some got suspended. One even got expelled. It suddenly hit me. Those were the same guys who had beaten up Justin. A cold dread washed over me. 4 Justin might live like a hermit, but you couldn’t deny he was brilliant. He won first place in the state math competition our senior year, making him an overnight celebrity at school. Even with his ice-cold demeanor, clueless girls were constantly stuffing snacks and drinks into his desk. Whenever this happened, I would magically appear, snatch the offerings, and stuff them in my mouth. Then I’d say, with a disgusting grin, “I haven’t had much of an appetite lately, but seeing your stuff really gets me going.” Then, mockingly, “Hey, weren’t you the one so concerned about your classmates’ health? Why the long face?” Justin would just stare at me. After a long moment, he’d walk down to the school store and buy the exact same items to give back to the girl. But what I didn’t expect was that it wasn’t just girls who were fooled by him. There were guys, too. One day, I happened to see a guy from the class next door corner Justin and confess his feelings. Justin said he wasn’t into guys and tried to leave, but the other guy got pissed and started getting physical, even trying to force a kiss on him. I was watching from the sidelines, thrilled. This was pure gold. Serves you right, Justin-boy. Justin finally snapped. He landed a solid punch in the guy’s stomach and walked away. I was still buzzing from the drama. And then it hit me—I had a brand new way to mess with him. When Justin was at the urinal, I’d stand next to him, dramatically glance down, and let out a theatrical gasp. “Whoa~” Justin would yank up his pants in disgust and move as far away from me as possible. During gym class, I’d sneak up behind him and smack his ass, giving it a little squeeze on the way out. “Whoa~” When Justin got his shirt dirty and went to change, I’d deliberately get too close. “Whoa~ Justin, you’re so pale.” Justin finally reached his breaking point and asked our homeroom teacher to transfer classes. Of course, our teacher didn’t want to lose a star student like him, and every other teacher was fighting to get him. In the end, our teacher called my dad. I got yelled at half to death and ended up hating Justin even more. 5 I discovered that the girls on the school’s Confession Page were calling Justin “hubby.” What terrible taste. Absolutely terrible taste. They had a rich, handsome guy like me right here, and they were chasing after Justin? The next day, I ran into Justin at the school gate again. Just as my hand was about to make contact with its favorite target—his ass—he spun around and grabbed my wrist. I scoffed. “Nice moves. Quick reflexes.” He shoved my hand away and started walking off without a word. That’s when I shouted, “Hubby!” Every head at the school entrance snapped in our direction. Justin froze for a split second, then started walking faster. Haha! He was flustered. This was glorious. I immediately ran after him, yelling even louder. “Hubby! Hey, Hubby Justin! Hubby Justin, why are you walking so fast? Wait for me!” Within a day, the story of me screaming “hubby” at Justin at the school gate was legendary. My newest followers were worried. “Charles, man, I get that you hate the guy, but this is like a suicide mission. What if people think you’re gay?” I thought they were worrying for nothing. So I call him hubby, and that makes me gay? If you guys called me your ancestor, would that make me George Washington? I just forgot one simple fact: even a cornered rabbit will bite back. And Justin was far from being a rabbit. That day, the school organized a sports day for the seniors to help us de-stress. Justin couldn’t hide in the classroom this time. He had to come out, and he ended up playing basketball—on the opposing team. On the court, I made it my mission to intercept his every move, gloating and taunting him. “Hubby! Hubby, why don’t you have the ball? Can’t get it?” My comment sent a ripple of laughter through the other players. Justin missed shot after shot. I smirked, targeting him relentlessly. “Hubby? What’s wrong, hubby?” “Why so quiet, hubby? Are you just naturally the silent type?” Justin’s face was turning darker by the second. Finally, after fighting through a wall of defenders, he managed to sink a basket. I gasped dramatically. “Whoa! So hot, hubby! You’re amazing!” Justin gave me one long, deep look, then turned and walked off the court. I’d really gotten to him today. I was ecstatic, humming a little tune as I headed to the locker room to change. I had just pushed the door open when a powerful force slammed me against the wall. 6 The next thing I knew, Justin’s face was inches from mine. “What are you—” doing here? Before I could finish, Justin’s mouth was on mine. It was a fierce, rushed kiss, his lips and tongue attacking mine, biting and bruising. For the first time, I realized how strong he was. I struggled, but he pinned my hands easily, holding me completely still. There was no emotion in it, no skill, just raw force. My lips were starting to ache. After what felt like an eternity, he pulled back slightly, though his grip didn’t loosen. We were both panting, out of breath. I shot him my most murderous glare. “Justin, are you insane?! Let me go!” He took a breath, his expression blank. “What happened to ‘hubby’?” I scowled. “Are you sick?” “You were just calling me hubby, weren’t you? What’s wrong with a husband kissing his wife?” Now it was my turn to get pissed. “Wife, my ass! I’m a guy!” A humorless smile touched his lips. “So what if you’re a guy? Weren’t you just cheering about how amazing your hubby is?” Then, before I could react, he kissed me again. This time it was even harder, but he was a fast learner. He wasn’t just conquering my mouth; his hands started roaming over my waist, and my knees actually started to feel weak. A wave of panic washed over me. He’s… he’s supposed to be homophobic! What the hell is with all the kissing and touching?! Justin finally pulled his head back, his grip loosening just a bit. “Now, tell me more. How amazing is your hubby?” Amazing my ass! You psycho! I shoved him away with all my might and bolted, not even daring to change my clothes. As I ran, Justin’s cold voice followed me. “Charles. From now on, every time you call me hubby, I’m going to kiss you.” “I mean it. Try me if you don’t believe me.” 7 People at school started noticing that I’d go out of my way to avoid Justin. Like he was the Grim Reaper himself. My crew was confused. “Charles, why are you scared of him? Let’s get him!” I felt like my guys and I were on completely different wavelengths. When I was on the warpath, they told me to back off. Now that I was backing off, they wanted me to go after him. So I beat them up. Now we were all on the same wavelength. We all avoided Justin. Suddenly, Justin became the guy even the school bully was afraid of. Someone on the Confession Page said it looked like we broke up. I was furious. What do you mean, broke up? We were never together in the first place! Someone else lamented that their favorite “ship” had apparently sunk. Ugh. Clearly, they didn’t have enough homework to do. But Justin’s life? It didn’t change at all. He was still number one in every exam, still had his head buried in a book, still wore that same faded school uniform, and still rode that piece-of-junk bicycle that even a thief would pity. My life felt like it had gone back to how it was before Justin ever transferred. Time flew by, and just like that, it was winter break. 8 It was New Year’s Eve, at the annual family banquet. My father and my stepmother were in the center of the grand hall, exchanging fake pleasantries. My other relatives stood around them, their smiles just as phony. It was a picture of perfect, artificial harmony. I was staring blankly at my plate, bored out of my mind, when someone bumped into me. Wine sloshed all over my suit. A waiter stammered an apology, crouching down to pick up the shattered glass. Looking at my stained clothes, I clicked my tongue in annoyance. “Forget it, don’t pick it up. Just get housekeeping to—” My words died in my throat when I saw the waiter’s face. “…Justin?” Justin, dressed in a waiter’s uniform, flinched but kept his head down, continuing to clean up the mess. The hotel manager rushed over, first berating Justin, then turning to me with an apologetic smile. I waved him off, pointing at Justin. “Have him take me to get changed.” The moment we were inside the hotel room they provided, Justin pursed his lips and spoke. “How much will the dry cleaning cost? I’ll pay you.” The banquet was painfully dull, and seeing him here, an idea for some fun sparked in my mind. “Not much, a few thousand maybe. But if you… service me right, I’ll let it slide.” I never expected the cool and collected academic genius to turn bright red. He just stood there, frozen. I was getting impatient and was about to mock him when he slowly raised his hands. I closed my eyes with a smug grin, ready to enjoy being waited on by my rival. But then I heard a rustling sound that didn’t seem right. I opened my eyes. Justin had already taken off his shirt. I leaped off the sofa in shock. “What the hell, Justin? Why are you taking your clothes off?” Justin’s face was a mask of humiliation and defiance. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Mr. Hale? The ‘service’ you rich gay guys are into? Isn’t this it?” What the hell? Us rich gay guys? I exploded. “Who the fuck is gay? You’re the gay one! What is wrong with your brain?!” “I wanted you to give me a foot massage! You’re a waiter here! Don’t you know this hotel is famous for its foot massages?” Justin’s expression went blank for a second. His face flushed, then paled, then flushed again. It took him a long moment to force out the words, his voice tight with embarrassment. “I’m a temp for the holidays. I only work the banquet hall. I didn’t know.” I closed my eyes, all my mischievous energy gone. I waved a hand dismissively. “Forget it. Just get out.” “Your suit—” “Worry about yourself. I’ve got more suits than I can count. This one getting dirty is nothing.”

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Three years after my boyfriend died in the line of duty, I saw his name on a wedding invitation. He was the groom. The bride was the intern I had personally trained. She clung to his arm, her smile syrupy sweet. “Skye, can you believe it? It’s all thanks to me digging him out of that border-town scrap heap back then. I heard some other woman was clinging to him before, almost got him killed on that mission.” She leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Isn’t it fate, Skye? Don’t you think we’re just meant to be?” 1 Chloe prattled on, her voice a buzzing insect in my ear, but I couldn’t process a single word. Three years. Over a thousand days and nights, I had risked my life searching for the man I loved. I never found a body, but here he was, the groom of the rookie I’d mentored. “Skye?” Chloe’s face swam into my vision, her brow furrowed with mock concern. “You’re so pale. Are you feeling alright?” I violently shook her hand off me, my body trembling. I dug my nails into my palm, the sharp pain the only thing keeping the rage from boiling over. For three years, I had put my entire life on the line. I’d dodged bullets on the border, crawled through rainforests teeming with snakes and vipers, and sifted through the dirt of mass graves filled with nameless bodies. Even his own family had given up, but I refused. I held onto a single, desperate creed: I would find him, dead or alive. Aiden. The ace of the Major Crimes Unit. My partner. My love. Three years ago, during a top-secret cross-border operation, the target detonated a chemical plant. The final report was six cold, clinical words: Aiden. Killed in action. Body unrecoverable. I never believed it. And now I knew why. He was alive. And he was marrying Chloe. There he stood at the end of the aisle in a tailored tuxedo, waiting to take my protégée’s hand. “Skye, you have to move on,” Chloe said with a sigh. “It’s all in the past. Look at me, I found Aiden, didn’t I? You need to let go, find a nice guy…” Before she could finish, the dressing room door swung open. Aiden walked in. The air in the room turned to ice. He was still as tall and imposing as I remembered, his suit perfectly fitted. He looked exactly the same as he had three years ago. Except for his eyes. The eyes that once held only me now swept over my face with chilling indifference. He walked straight to Chloe, his hands moving with practiced ease to adjust her veil. Behind him were his groomsmen—our old squad mates. The moment they saw me, their gazes darted away, faces twitching, a silent chorus of oh shit, we are so screwed written all over them. If I’d been clinging to some fragile hope that he had amnesia, the looks on their faces were a brutal slap to the face, shattering that delusion. He hadn’t forgotten. He just… didn’t want me anymore. “Honey,” Chloe cooed, her eyes sparkling up at him. “Tell Mark and the guys not to leave too early tonight. We need to celebrate properly!” She shot me a triumphant little glance. Aiden grunted in agreement, his gaze fixed on Chloe’s face, not sparing me another crumb of attention. It was as if we were complete strangers. A giant, invisible hand clenched around my heart, squeezing until it felt like it would tear apart. I stumbled into the restroom, sliding down the cool, tiled wall, the chill doing nothing to numb the searing pain inside. “Aiden…” A choked sob escaped my lips as the agony crested. “You son of a bitch… how could you?” 2 I could faintly hear Mark’s hushed, urgent voice from outside. “Aiden, are you sure about this? Skye, she…” Aiden’s reply was clipped and cold. “She’s a loose end. A liability. When a mission is over, you make a clean cut. Do I need to teach you that?” “…” The ceremony began. Chloe, “understanding” of my emotional state, had someone else take my place as a bridesmaid. I retreated to the darkest corner of the reception hall, a ghost at the feast. I watched as Aiden knelt on one knee, watched him slide a ring onto Chloe’s finger. A violent impulse surged through me. I wanted to storm up there, to tear this whole sham wedding apart. To scream at Chloe for stealing my life, to grab Aiden by his collar and demand to know where the hell he’d been for three years. To ask them all why they had conspired to make a fool out of me. But I didn’t. I just sat there, frozen in my corner. Then, as the officiant declared, “You may now kiss the bride,” I started to clap. I clapped the loudest, my sharp applause turning heads. I ignored them, my eyes locked on Aiden as his gaze finally found mine. I stretched my lips into a wide, grotesque smile, but tears I couldn’t control streamed down my face, scalding hot. His pupils contracted for a fraction of a second before his expression shuttered again, the brief flicker of emotion buried under a glacier of cold indifference. My nails bit deeper into my palms. I think I’m going insane, I thought. I pulled out my phone and typed him a message. [Aiden, I don’t wish you happiness. I wish you a lifetime of wanting what you can’t have, of love and loss.] The “message sent” notification chimed, and I felt like a complete idiot. His love was right there beside him. What good was my curse? I left before the toasts, before I had to watch them parade their happiness from table to table. If I stayed a second longer, I was afraid I might actually draw my weapon. Over a year ago, the last faint trail leading to him had gone cold in a dusty border town. I’d returned to the safe house that was once ours, a place that still smelled of old gunpowder and shared memories. Staring into a cracked bathroom mirror, I took a knife to my wrist. It was the old beat cop from downstairs who noticed something was wrong and kicked the door in. When I woke up in the hospital, the Chief was holding my hand, his eyes red-rimmed. “Skye, you have to live for him! You have to put away all the bastards he never got to!” Live for him? A world without Aiden was just a suffocating, bitter darkness. We were everything to each other: childhood friends, partners on the force, lovers who had faced death together. We were one step away from getting married—the transfer papers were filed, all we needed was the final approval. Then came the cross-border operation. The world-shattering explosion. I became a madwoman, combing every inch of the borderlands. I interrogated drug runners, squeezed informants, and questioned every living soul near the blast site. They all shook their heads. No one had seen him. And now here he was, back from the dead, in a groom’s tuxedo, with his arms around someone else. 3 I drifted into a heavy, dreamless sleep, only to be jolted awake by the frantic buzzing of my phone. Dozens of missed calls, all from Chloe. There was also a voice message from the Chief, his voice weary. “Skye, come back. The unit needs you.” I scrolled down and saw a single, stark message. One word: [Vanish.] I stared at that word for a long time, and then a harsh, broken laugh escaped my lips. All my devotion, all my desperate hope—it was nothing more than a joke to him. My gaze fell to my chest. A rough, hand-carved wooden charm hung there, cracked with age. I never took it off. The night before his final mission, he had climbed through my window, smelling of dew and the night air, and placed it around my neck. “Got it from a chapel, had it blessed,” he’d said, his grin genuine, the tips of his ears bright red. “For protection. Keep it on. Don’t ever take it off.” I found out later the “chapel” was a crumbling ruin on the other side of the border, abandoned for decades. He’d almost gotten himself shot as an illegal border-crosser just for that stupid piece of wood, which was rumored to bind lovers together. My eyes burned. With a single, sharp tug, I ripped the charm from my neck. I walked to the window and threw it into the dumpster below. Aiden, from this day forward, you go your way, and I’ll go mine. After a storm of gut-wrenching sobs, clarity finally broke through. I called the Chief. “Chief, I’m back. Requesting reassignment to active duty.” “You’ve made up your mind?” “Yes. I’ll wrap up my cold cases and be there in seven days. The flight is booked.” That day would be the anniversary of the day we first met. Where it began is where it will end. For the next seven days, I became a hermit. I left the house only to handle my transfer paperwork, seeing no one. My phone was on airplane mode. On the seventh day, a thunderous knock echoed through my apartment. Chloe stood on my doorstep, with Aiden silent and brooding behind her. “Skye!” Chloe lunged for a hug, but I sidestepped her. She didn’t seem to mind. “You scared me to death! You weren’t answering your phone, and no one was home! I thought you’d… you know…” She trailed off, her eyes flicking meaningfully toward my wrist. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. “We’re here to get you!” Chloe announced, all bright energy. “It’s your birthday! Did you forget? We’re throwing you a surprise party tonight! And I’m going to introduce you to some of the hot new guys from the precinct! Don’t even think about saying no!” She spoke with an easy, commanding familiarity, as if my compliance was a given. She was so sunny, so warm and full of life. I could see why Aiden would fall for her. My eyes drifted to the man standing behind her. His gaze was glacial, his dark eyes frozen over, looking at me as if I were a complete stranger. As if possessed by some demon, I stepped aside and let them in. This safe house had been requisitioned for two. After Aiden disappeared, I had stubbornly stayed, keeping everything just the way he liked it. Chloe wrinkled her nose dramatically as she entered. “Wow, Skye, your place is… interesting. It looks like a command post. So cold, not a single homey touch.” “Mm,” I replied softly. “My ex liked it this way. When we lived together, I decorated according to his tastes.”

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After my parents found a hundred different ways to kill me, I woke up with every single memory of my past lives intact. The last time, as they left me to die in a fire, I had screamed at them, asking why. Their eyes were filled with pity, but their words were a blade to the heart. “The more you suffer, Lily, the faster Aurora’s illness will fade. You won’t really die, after all. We have no other choice. Just bear with it a little longer.” Aurora was the girl they adopted after I went missing, the golden child who took my place. In terror, I dragged my broken body to my fiancé, begging him to help me escape. He agreed without hesitation, only to lead me to the ocean and watch as I was torn apart by sharks. “Can’t you stop being so selfish for once?” he’d pleaded. “Only you can save Aurora. Once she’s well, I promise I’ll make it all up to you.” They had all made a deal with the System, trading my agony for Aurora’s health. But they didn’t know that I had made a deal with the System, too. 1. “We’ve finally done it ninety-nine times. Just one more, we just have to kill Lily one more time, and our darling Aurora will be free from her sickness forever!” “Our little girl can finally have a normal life! After this is done, we have to throw a huge party for her to celebrate!” I jolted awake, the phantom sensation of drowning still clinging to me, only to hear the excited chatter of my own parents just outside my door. They were already planning a future that had no place for me in it. “Mommy, Daddy… if you keep hurting Lily, won’t she hate you when she finds out the truth? I mean… she’s your real daughter, after all.” Aurora’s voice, sweet and cloying. My fists clenched. I waited, desperate to hear my parents’ reply. After all the pain they’d put me through for her, was there even a shred of remorse? “Aurora, sweetheart, that’s not for you to worry about,” my father’s voice was a cold, smooth stone. “You just need to be happy and healthy. Your sister… even if she knew, she’d be happy to do this for you. Besides, it’s not like she really dies.” He then cooed, telling Aurora not to worry her pretty little head. His words were like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs. They never once asked me what I wanted. Even though my memories were wiped each time, the agony of my body being tortured to death, over and over, was terrifyingly real. I remembered when they first found me after I’d been missing for years. My parents had clutched me, sobbing so hard they could barely breathe. They promised me a happy home. They promised I would never suffer again. They broke every single promise, all for their adopted daughter, Aurora. If Aurora shed a single tear, it was my fault. Her pathetic, clumsy acting was enough to make my parents scream at me, to lock me in the storage closet for three days and nights, to ignore me when I was burning up with a 104-degree fever. Tears soaked my pillow, hot and silent. The next moment, the door creaked open and my parents walked in. A flicker of guilt crossed their faces before being replaced by practiced, loving smiles. “I made you some soup. You need to get your strength back after… falling in the water,” my mother said. “Aurora’s birthday party is in a few days. She really wants you to be there. You know how she gets when she’s upset. That girl is impossible to soothe.” The mention of Aurora brought a wave of adoration to my mother’s eyes. She would indulge her every whim, while I was always expected to be the understanding one. “What about my birthday?” I asked, my voice small. Aurora and I were born on the same day, in the same month, of the same year. Her birthday was my birthday, too. 2. My mother froze. It was true; I’d never had a real party. She looked at me with a sigh of weary resignation. “Oh, look at my memory. I’m so sorry, Lily, darling. Your mother has just been so busy. Of course, we’ll celebrate your birthday too. It’s just… it’s too late to have a gown custom-made. You’re about Aurora’s size, so you’ll just have to make do with one of her old ones for now. I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.” I’ll make it up to you. I’d heard those words a hundred times. The hope I once felt had curdled into a numb acceptance. I just nodded. My mother, relieved, brought the bowl of soup to my lips. My eyes burned as I drank it down, spoonful by spoonful. This simple act of maternal care was a scene I had replayed in my head a thousand times, and now, finally, it was real. I was about to ask them, to beg them not to kill me again, when a violent cramp seized my stomach. The world blurred. In agony, I tumbled from the bed, my body convulsing on the floor as foam frothed at my lips. Through the haze of pain, I heard my mother’s worried voice. “The poison in this soup… it seems so potent. Are you sure Lily’s body can handle it?” She looked conflicted, reaching for me, but my father pulled her hand back. “She has to die a hundredth time sooner or later,” he explained patiently. “Don’t you want Aurora to be fully recovered before her birthday? The more she suffers now, the healthier Aurora becomes.” They had reached an agreement. My mother’s face hardened. She gave me one last look before turning away. “Lily,” she said, her voice distant. “Once Aurora is well, you’ll be the hero of this family. Mom and Dad will make it all up to you.” Moments after they left, I heard Aurora’s cheerful giggles as she cuddled between them. A happy family, their joy complete now that I was gone. In the encroaching darkness, my tears ran dry. My heart was a dead, empty thing as I called out to the System. After I’d recovered my memories, it had offered me one compensation for its error. “System,” I thought, my voice a faint echo in my mind. “You said that after I died one hundred times, you would help me fake my death and escape. Does that offer still stand?” “Of course,” its disembodied voice replied. “Allowing you to regain your memories was my failure.” With that confirmation, I closed my eyes and waited for the end. But it didn’t come. The housekeeper, passing by my room, found me unconscious and called for an ambulance. My parents were furious that their plan had been disrupted, but they couldn’t risk their public image as loving, doting parents. So I woke up in a hospital, my parents standing beside my bed with red-rimmed eyes, tearfully telling a news reporter how they had failed as parents. When my mother saw I was awake, she pulled me into a tight, heart-wrenching hug. I froze. She had never held me like this. I had spent my childhood watching her embrace Aurora with that fierce, protective love, my own heart aching with a jealousy so sharp it was a physical pain. Even knowing this warmth was a lie, I desperately wanted to hold on. But the shrill ring of her phone shattered the illusion. She answered, her face immediately clouding with anxiety. Without a backward glance, she and my father rushed out of the room. “There’s an emergency at the company,” she called over her shoulder. “You be a good girl and wait here, Lily.” I was left alone with the awkward reporter. Of course, I’d overheard the call. It wasn’t the company. Aurora had twisted her ankle walking down the stairs at home and was throwing a tantrum, refusing to let anyone treat it. That was their “emergency.” A few minutes later, my phone lit up. It was a new post from Aurora, a picture of my parents kneeling at her feet, carefully tending to her ankle. The caption read: “My little tantrums can only be soothed by Mom and Dad! And thank you for the priceless necklace you gave me to cheer me up. I love it so much, especially since its meaning is ‘my one and only treasure.’” She had tagged me. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I turned off my phone. 3. I was in the hospital for only a day before the family butler was sent to forcibly discharge me. I returned home, pale and weak, to find Aurora standing in the living room, preening in a magnificent gown as my parents showered her with praise. I had almost forgotten. Today was our birthday. “Aurora, darling,” my father began, “today isn’t just your birthday, it’s also…” Had they finally remembered me? A foolish flicker of hope ignited in my chest, only to be instantly extinguished. “…it’s also the day you become healthy forever! Your mother and I have waited so long for this. You’ve suffered so much because of your illness, but that’s all over now.” “That’s right,” my mother added, her eyes shining. “We’ve arranged everything. As soon as Lily dies one more time, you’ll be cured for good.” The three of them embraced, a portrait of familial bliss, while I, their flesh and blood, stood in the shadows, a ghost at their feast. So this was why I couldn’t miss the party. It was the stage for my hundredth death. The butler hustled me forward. Aurora shot me a triumphant smile. “Sister, the party’s about to start. Mommy forgot to get you a new dress, so you’ll just have to wear one of mine.” Two maids dragged me into a room, roughly stripping my clothes off, their nails deliberately scratching my skin, drawing blood. I met their contemptuous gazes and knew this was Aurora’s doing. They ignored my struggles, forcing me into an ill-fitting dress. A thousand sharp, stinging pains erupted across my body. I reached down and touched the fabric. My fingers came away dotted with blood. Hundreds of needles had been sewn into the lining. “The young miss picked this dress for you herself,” one of the maids sneered. “It’s either this, or you go downstairs naked.” They laughed, then hauled me into the grand hall. It was already filled with guests. Their curious, malicious stares felt like insects crawling on my skin. Across the room, I saw Aurora, holding my parents’ hands, surrounded by a circle of well-wishers. Did anyone here even know it was my birthday, too? Aurora’s lips curled into a smirk. With all the pain I had endured recently, her cheeks were rosier than ever, her health blooming at my expense. “Happy birthday…” A familiar voice from behind me. It was my fiancé, Ethan, his face a mask of gentle concern. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My desperate stare finally caught his attention. He saw me, and his brow furrowed in disgust. He took a deliberate step away, as if looking at something vile. He walked right past me to Aurora’s side, carefully fastening a multi-million-dollar bracelet onto her wrist. I remembered when we first got engaged. His eyes had been full of only me. He had promised to take care of me for the rest of my life. But after Aurora’s endless stream of lies and accusations, his affection had soured into revulsion. It didn’t matter anymore. After the hundredth death, I would finally be out of their way for good. As I stood there, lost in thought, one of the maids shoved me hard from behind. I stumbled, and at that exact moment, the massive crystal chandelier directly above me came crashing down. The impact was immense, but the pain was so blinding I couldn’t even scream. I looked down at my body, my limbs twisted at unnatural, horrifying angles. Blood pooled beneath me, a rapidly expanding stain on the marble floor. The guests recoiled, their faces masks of disgust. With my last ounce of strength, I lifted my head. I saw my parents and my fiancé shielding Aurora, terrified that my blood might splatter on her, that the grotesque sight of my broken body might frighten her. They were cooing at her, telling her not to look. Aurora just stuck out her tongue playfully. I could feel my consciousness fading. This, I thought, would be the last time I ever felt pain. 4. “Lily! Someone call an ambulance! Why aren’t you helping her?” As I lay dying, I heard a familiar voice cry out. But who would want to save me? It must be another hallucination. Then, a pair of hands pressed down on my wounds, and I realized it wasn’t a hallucination. I forced my blood-matted eyelids open. It took a long moment for the figures to come into focus. It was my adoptive parents. The kind, simple couple who had found me when I was lost and raised me as their own. If not for them, I wouldn’t have survived past the age of five. When my biological family found me, they were heartbroken to let me go, but happy that I would no longer have to live in poverty with them. What would they think, seeing me like this now? In their plain, worn clothes, they were starkly out of place among the wealthy guests, their frantic, desperate cries sounding almost comical in the opulent hall. My parents and Ethan glanced at my suffering form, a flicker of pity in their eyes. But then they remembered—I wouldn’t really die. Their brief concern vanished. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to save me; it was that for Aurora’s sake, they couldn’t. Terrified my adoptive parents would ruin their plan, my father ordered the security guards to throw them out. But they were stubborn. They clung to me, their bodies becoming soaked in my blood, refusing to let go. They screamed at my parents, their voices raw with disbelief. “Lily is your own daughter! Why won’t you save her? When you took her from us, you promised you would cherish her for the rest of her life! We thought she would finally be happy, and you do this to her?” My adoptive mother’s heartbroken sobs made my parents flinch with guilt. To prevent a bigger scene, my father barked at the guards. “What are you waiting for? Get them out! If they won’t leave, break their legs and throw them out. The family can afford the settlement!” “No…” I choked out, tears streaming down my face. “Please… Mom, Dad, I’m begging you… leave them alone.” I stretched a trembling hand toward them, desperate for them to look at me. My adoptive parents weren’t in good health. If their legs were broken, how would they survive? But no one listens to the pleas of a dying girl. I watched in horror as the guards took iron batons and shattered the bones in my adoptive parents’ arms and legs. Then they dragged them out and threw them into the street like trash. Of course. My parents didn’t care about me. Why would they care about the people I loved? Under their cold, indifferent gazes, I finally bled out, my last breath a shuddering gasp. The tears and blood mingled on the floor, a chilling testament to their cruelty. And then, they got the confirmation from the System. Aurora’s illness was gone. For good. They wiped away tears of joy and had my body carried up to my room. After all, for the last ninety-nine times, I had always woken up, my memory wiped clean. But not this time. This time, the torture was finally over.

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1 The first thing I did when I got my sight back was run to find my husband, Lucas. I couldn’t wait to share the incredible news. But I stopped dead outside the door to his private suite, his voice drifting out as he chatted with his friends. “Lucas, man,” one of them slurred, “Jenna’s been blind for two years. You had Flynn pretend to be you and live with her that whole time, just so you could be with your childhood sweetheart. Aren’t you worried he and your wife might, you know… make the act a little too real?” “What’s there to worry about?” Lucas scoffed, taking a swig of his drink. His laugh was reckless. “Flynn’s got insane self-control. I’ve seen supermodels throw themselves at him, stark naked, and he didn’t even flinch. You think he’s gonna touch her?” He paused, his tone dripping with contempt. “Besides, Jenna’s frigid. As long as Flynn doesn’t make a move, she wouldn’t even think about it.” The room erupted in crude jokes. “Damn, I don’t know who to feel sorry for, Jenna or Flynn. Two gorgeous people in one bed, doing nothing but talking? What a waste, hahaha!” The laughter echoed, sharp and cruel. My gaze drifted to the man sitting alone in the center of the room, silently nursing his drink. Flynn Foster. Coolly elegant, with an air of aristocratic aloofness. To have a man that fine and not touch him… I had to admit, it was a bit of a shame. Looking back, the signs had been there all along. During the two years of my blindness, “Lucas” had grown distant, his words sparse, a wall of formality between us. I’d felt it, but wrapped in the shame and helplessness of my condition, I never dared to say a word. My thoughts were shattered by the click of the front door. A familiar voice, deliberately low, spoke from behind me. “Jenna, I’m home.” Flynn’s voice was naturally similar to Lucas’s, and with him consciously mimicking it, it was no wonder I’d been fooled for two years. I looked up, letting my gaze drift vaguely toward the handsome man before me. The most famously self-disciplined bachelor in Manhattan’s elite, a man who played by no one’s rules. Why on earth would he agree to play this game with Lucas? To act out this charade with me for two whole years? Well, if they loved to act, I’d be happy to play along. Pretending I still couldn’t see, I fumbled my way toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him into an embrace. “Honey, you’re finally home.” I squeezed him tight, my hand conveniently brushing against the firm planes of his abdomen. In two years, Flynn had been the model of restraint. Even sharing a bed, he always kept a careful distance. We’d never been this close. He stiffened, clearly startled by my forwardness. His voice was a little tight. “Jenna… what’s gotten into you today?” I forced a few tears to my eyes, my voice a wounded whisper. “Lucas, you haven’t touched me since I went blind. Is it… is it because you don’t want me anymore?” Flynn’s expression faltered. He softened his tone, trying to soothe me. “No, you’re overthinking it… The accident two years ago was hard on your body. I was just worried you couldn’t handle it.” “My body’s fine now,” I purred, my voice dropping. “I can handle it.” My fingers fumbled their way to his shirt, unbuttoning it, my palm pressing against the solid warmth of his chest. “Honey, it’s been two years. You must have been working so hard to hold back, haven’t you?” Flynn’s Adam’s apple bobbed. His voice was raspy. “…Yeah. It’s been… fine.” I blew a soft breath against his throat. “So, what if we…” Before I could finish, his phone rang, shattering the moment. “I should get this.” Flynn let out a breath he seemed to have been holding and walked out to the balcony with his phone. I crept to the window, listening as Lucas’s lazy voice crackled through the speaker. “Flynn, Grandfather’s birthday is tomorrow. You’re on duty. We’ll switch.” Flynn paused for a beat. “Fine.” “Haven’t swapped with you in months. Catch me up on what’s been going on with you and Jenna so I don’t blow my cover.” I could hear Lucas’s friends laughing in the background. “Come on, Lucas,” one of them teased, “juggling your wife and your true love. Who’s more important to you, really?” Lucas let out a cold, cynical laugh. “Are you kidding? How could you even compare Jenna to Savannah? Jenna threw herself at me for years; I couldn’t get rid of her if I tried. Savannah… she’s the one I fought for. If my grandfather didn’t have such a soft spot for Jenna, I never would have married her in the first place.” His words hung in the air, each one a shard of ice in my heart. A bitter, self-mocking laugh tried to escape my throat. He was right. I had chased him for years. From sixteen to twenty-six. A decade of my life spent running after him. I’d finally gotten my wish and married him. Only to find that the man sharing my bed every night was his best friend. For two years, my life had been a pathetic, cosmic joke. 2 That night, I wrapped myself around Flynn and slept in his arms. I could feel the tension radiating from his body, his muscles rigid all night long. When I woke the next morning, Flynn was gone. In his place stood Lucas, dressed impeccably, a smile plastered on his face. “You’re awake? Get up, get ready. We’re going to Grandfather’s birthday banquet.” I stretched languidly, letting out a deliberately sultry moan. “Honey, you were so tense last night. My back is aching from you pressing into me all night long~” The smile froze on Lucas’s face. His expression turned ugly. The drive to the Reed estate was silent. A storm cloud of fury hung over him, his face a mask of cold frost. But as we entered the grand hall, he plastered on a look of affection, taking my hand and forcing a smile for his grandfather. “Grandfather, wishing you a long and happy life!” The old man was thrilled to see me, pulling me aside to chat for what felt like an eternity. The party was a sea of faces. I saw Flynn, the man I’d held all night, standing coolly by the bar. And I saw her. Lucas’s precious Savannah. Savannah’s eyes found me, filled with undisguised contempt and a taunting smirk. I feigned blindness, my gaze empty, ignoring her completely. Midway through the banquet, I excused myself to the restroom. As I was coming out, Savannah appeared, walking straight toward me. The moment our shoulders brushed, there was a splash. A full glass of red wine cascaded over my head. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “My hand just slipped.” I calmly reached for the mop leaning against the wall by the restroom door. I lifted it. And I swung it right in her face. “Ah!” Savannah shrieked, a sound of pure hysteria. “Jenna Reed, what the hell are you doing!” I feigned a startled realization. “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry! I’m blind, you see. I was just trying to use the mop as a cane. Did I hit you?” Dripping with filthy mop water, Savannah was livid. She raised her hand to slap me. I raised the mop again and swung. “Stop!” Two voices shouted in unison from down the hall. Lucas and Flynn were striding toward us, their faces grim, a few servants trailing behind them. Savannah, tears streaming down her face, threw herself into Lucas’s arms. “Lucas, your wife just attacked me with a mop! You have to do something!” “Jenna, apologize!” Lucas’s voice was ice. I stumbled, pretending to be disoriented, and collapsed into Flynn’s arms. “Honey, I’m so sorry,” I sobbed. “I just can’t see… I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be mad at me.” Lucas stood frozen, his face a thunderous shade of black as he stared at me clinging to his best friend. Flynn patted my back, his voice a low rumble meant to sound like Lucas’s. “I’m not mad. It’s not your fault.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucas’s expression darken to a murderous rage. A thrill of victory shot through me. I pressed my face deeper into Flynn’s chest, sniffing. “Honey, I’m all wet and sticky. It’s so uncomfortable. Could you… could you help me with a bath? And maybe rub my back…?” The hand on my back froze. Flynn’s voice was a bit stiff. “I… suppose I could…” “Mrs. Davis!” Lucas’s voice cut through the air, sharp with fury and a possessive edge. He interrupted us with a command. “Take my wife to get cleaned up and changed. Now!” After changing, I was walking down a quiet corridor when I came across Lucas and Flynn talking. Lucas’s face was a mask of fury. He interrogated Flynn in a low, sharp voice. “Flynn, I thought you had no interest in women. Why are you getting worked up over Jenna?” Flynn lit a cigarette, taking a moment before answering. “I’m a man, Lucas, not a saint. You can be the most ascetic monk in the world, but if a beautiful, half-naked woman keeps throwing herself at you, you’re going to have a reaction.” Lucas looked stunned, his face twisting in disbelief. “But Jenna… she’s always been so cold, so distant… Flynn, you have to promise me. No matter how tempted you are, you will not touch her. This is a game, and at the end of it, she is still my wife.” “And you just remembered that?” Flynn blew a dismissive smoke ring, his expression mocking. “You’ve spent the last two years wining and dining your precious Savannah. Have you given a single damn about your wife in all that time?” Lucas fell silent. Flynn let out a short, harsh laugh. “If you love Savannah so much, just divorce Jenna and be done with it.” “I can’t!” Lucas’s reaction was visceral. “Jenna and I… we grew up together. I still have feelings for her… But I chased Savannah for so long. She finally said yes. I can’t just let her go…” “Hah.” Flynn stubbed out his cigarette, his voice dripping with contempt. “Scumbag.” I didn’t wait to hear more. I turned and walked away. Lucas Reed. You want your childhood sweetheart, but you don’t want to give up your devoted wife. But you can’t have it both ways. The world doesn’t work like that. … 3 The banquet ended, and Lucas drove me home. As we pulled up, I saw Flynn waiting by the front door. Lucas handed me off to him without a word and drove away without a backward glance. Once inside, I went straight to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I called out. “Honey, I think I slipped! I hit my shoulder. Can you come in and help me with some ointment?” Soon, the bathroom door clicked open. Flynn walked in, a tube of cream in his hand. I was draped loosely in a towel, my hair damp, water still trickling down my skin. Flynn’s gaze locked on me for a second before he quickly looked away, fumbling with the cap on the tube. I feigned another slip, stumbling dramatically and falling right into his arms. The towel slithered to the floor. Our bodies pressed together, hot skin on hot skin. The tips of Flynn’s ears went crimson. He tried to push me away, his voice strangled. “Jenna, you…” I silenced him with a kiss. He was rigid for a moment, but then all resistance melted away. His hand came up to cradle the back of my head, and he returned the kiss with a fiery intensity I never knew he possessed. Coming up for air, my hands went to the buckle of his belt. My voice was a husky whisper. “Honey, we’ve been married for so long… isn’t it about time we had a baby?” Flynn’s Adam’s apple bobbed violently. His voice was raw. “…Okay. Whatever you want.” With that, he swept me into his arms and carried me to the bedroom. Just then, his phone buzzed. Flynn ignored it, silencing it with a flick of his thumb. “Aren’t you going to…” He swallowed the rest of my words with another kiss. From the afternoon until deep into the night, Flynn was like a starved wolf that had finally gotten a taste, insatiable and relentless. I was so exhausted I fell asleep in his arms. In a hazy, half-conscious state, I heard him take a call, his voice a low whisper. “I know.” “I won’t touch her.” “You don’t trust me? Fine, don’t.” “Make a vow? I don’t believe in that superstitious crap.” After he hung up, I felt him lean close to my ear, his breath warm. “Jenna,” he murmured, “why did you have to love only him?” I wanted to tell him I didn’t anymore. But I was too tired, already sinking back into a deep, heavy sleep. After that first time, it was like a dam had broken. Flynn was an addict, and I was his drug. He craved me constantly. For two straight months, he neglected everything else, dedicating himself entirely to me. As for Lucas, I heard he’d taken Savannah on a vacation abroad. I hadn’t seen him in two months. One day, I wasn’t feeling well, so Flynn took me to the hospital. And there, at the entrance, we ran right into Lucas and Savannah, who had just returned to the country. “What a coincidence,” Savannah chirped first, her voice sickeningly sweet. “I’ve been feeling so nauseous lately, with no appetite. I wonder if we just had a little too much fun on our trip and… well, you know. What are you two here for?” Flynn shot her a cold look. “Jenna wasn’t feeling well. I brought her for a check-up.” Lucas, afraid of blowing his cover, said nothing, but his eyes were glued to the faint red marks on my neck, his face a terrifying mask of cold fury. I pretended not to see any of it, walking past them with a calm, placid expression. But just as I passed Savannah, she let out a sudden “Ah!” and stumbled backward, falling dramatically into a decorative fountain nearby. Lucas’s face contorted in panic. He immediately jumped into the water to pull her out. Soaking wet, Savannah burst into hysterical sobs. “Lucas, your wife pushed me! I swear I didn’t do anything to her, why does she keep attacking me?” Lucas’s face was a storm cloud of rage as he rounded on me. “Jenna Reed, apologize to Savannah! Now!” I almost laughed. It was always like this. He never asked, never investigated. He just condemned me. “Why should I apologize for something I didn’t do?” His eyes turned glacial, his voice like cracking ice. “If it wasn’t you, who was it? She was walking right past you! Do you think she just jumped in herself? You lost your sight, did you lose your heart, too?” All these years, no matter how much I gave, how much I loved him, Savannah was always his first priority. I let out a cold snort. “I will not apologize.” “You don’t have a choice!” He kicked the back of my knee, hard, forcing me to my knees on the cold pavement. He grabbed my head, trying to force me to bow in apology to her. “Let her go!” Flynn lunged forward, yanking Lucas’s hand away, his eyes blazing with a quiet fury. “Don’t you touch her.” Lucas ground his teeth, his face a mask of pure rage. In the middle of the struggle, a wave of dizziness washed over me. All my strength drained away, and I felt myself falling backward. Just before I hit the ground, two voices cried out in unison. “Jenna!” Flynn caught my limp body, but Lucas instantly snatched me from his arms. “Jenna, what’s wrong?” “Jenna, wake up!” “I’m sorry, Jenna, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have been so rough with you, just wake up…” Lucas lifted me into his arms and sprinted toward the emergency room. Outside the ER, Lucas stared daggers at Flynn, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “Flynn, you’re going to explain to me what those marks are all over Jenna’s neck.” Flynn scoffed. “Right now, don’t you think you should be more concerned about her health?” Just then, the doors to the ER swung open. A doctor walked out, pulling down his mask. “It’s nothing serious. The patient is just pregnant. The emotional distress caused her to faint. She’ll wake up soon.” “What… did you say?” Lucas looked like he’d been struck by lightning, his face a canvas of pure shock.

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In the third month of the cold war with my A-list actor boyfriend, we were invited onto a reality show and told to call the person we love most. Out of spite, he called his assistant, Hannah. The internet went wild. I dialed an unknown number, a call to my mother in another world. The internet ridiculed me. Hamilton sneered. “You’re an orphan. What mother? You’re so pathetic you’d hire an actress to play your own mom.” I said nothing. As he watched me with that mocking expression, I ran to the window and jumped. The System had just told me. All I had to do was die in this world. Then I could finally go home and be with my mom again. 1. “To stoop so low you’d hire an actress to play your own mom… you have no shame.” Host, if the body in this world dies, you can return home. The two voices echoed in my mind at the same time. I stared blankly ahead, lost for a moment. Hamilton, however, thought I was looking at him and let out a contemptuous laugh. “What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you don’t have a single person you love most? Are you that much of a failure?” His words triggered a wave of laughter from the crew. I was the only one not laughing. He wasn’t wrong. Ever since I arrived in this world and accepted the mission to win him over, my life had revolved around him. To complete the mission as quickly as possible and get back home to cure my mother, I never had time to make friends. I could only rely on him. I was like a fragile vine, clinging to him for survival. The internet had even dubbed me “the world’s clingiest girlfriend.” During the years he loved me most, Hamilton would hold me and make promises. “Anya, I’ll be with you for the rest of our lives. We’ll never be apart.” I believed him. Until the first time I walked in on him and Hannah kissing. He’d explained it away impatiently, his eyes fixed on Hannah’s flushed cheeks. “It was just a dare from a game, can you stop being so paranoid? There’s nothing between us. Don’t make it sound so sordid.” We had a huge fight. Then, three months ago, I found them again, emerging from the bathroom together in bathrobes. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. He didn’t even bother with an explanation this time. Instead, he deliberately wrapped his arm around Hannah. “All you do is argue, argue, argue. Can’t you learn to be sweet and obedient like Hannah?” In that moment, I finally understood. It was over. This mission… I couldn’t do it anymore. Fortunately, the System didn’t force me to continue. It readily agreed to cancel the mission and even promised to uphold its end of the bargain: to cure my mother. With that, I had nothing left to hold me back. The System’s voice echoed in my mind again. Host, your mother asked me to tell you that she misses you very much. A sharp pang hit my nose, and my eyes instantly welled with tears. That’s right. I did have someone I loved. My mom. And I missed her so, so much. “I want… to go home,” I mumbled, my voice choked with emotion. Hamilton froze, a flicker of remorse in his eyes, but his words were still sharp. “Anya, your acting skills are getting better and better…” I pretended not to hear him. I stood up and walked quickly toward the window. Amid the panicked shouts of the crew and the crash of falling camera equipment, I leaped from the windowsill. I was done with Hamilton. I was done with our five years together. I just wanted to go home. 2. I woke to the sterile smell of antiseptic. For a moment, I thought I’d made it back. But before the joy could even register, a familiar voice shattered my hope. Unfortunately, I hadn’t died. “Anya, you’re going to threaten me with suicide just because I called Hannah? All I did was say a few words to you! And you were the one who started the fight!” “If you really wanted to die, you should have picked a higher floor! A three-story fall won’t kill you. What’s with the act?” Hamilton’s eyes were bloodshot. I stared at him, stunned into silence. Before I could speak, the door opened and Hannah rushed in, her face streaked with tears, looking as if she might collapse at any moment. “Anya, I’m so sorry. Hamilton was just trying to get a rise out of you, to make you jealous. That’s the only reason he called me. I’ll disappear. I won’t bother you two ever again.” With that, she gave Hamilton a look filled with sorrow and reluctance, then turned to leave. She’d only taken a few steps before Hamilton grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. His expression was grim. “This isn’t your fault. Why are you leaving? Don’t cry. I’ll have Anya clear your name.” He turned back to me, his gaze turning to ice. “Anya, because your little stunt was broadcast live, Hannah is being crucified online. You have to make a statement and explain that she’s innocent. She doesn’t deserve to be dragged into your mess.” He continued, his voice hardening. “Everywhere she goes, people are calling her a homewrecker because of what you did. You need to apologize to her. You were in the wrong this time, and I’m not going to enable you.” I almost wanted to laugh. But none of this drama mattered anymore. I tossed my phone to him, my face a mask of calm. “Fine. Post whatever you want.” My voice was flat. “I just want to go home now.” The System immediately responded: Soon, Host. Very soon. I closed my eyes again, shutting them out. “Get out. Both of you, get out.” 3. Hamilton hesitated for a moment, but he didn’t leave. He expertly unlocked my phone and quickly typed out a clarification statement. When he handed the phone back, his eyes were clouded with a complex emotion. “Anya, after all these years, your lock screen is still that same photo.” I didn’t speak, just glanced at the screen. It was a picture of Hamilton and me holding a birthday cake, our smiles radiant and full of love. I felt a pang of nostalgia. Back then, he wasn’t a famous actor. He was running from audition to audition, working as an extra. For my birthday, he’d scraped together all his money to buy me an expensive, beautiful cake. “Anya, thank you for sticking with me,” he had said. “From now on, I’ll buy you the most beautiful, most expensive cake every year. We have to be together forever.” He became famous and kept his promise. But somewhere along the way, the cakes and gifts became cold and sharp. They no longer tasted sweet. All that was left was a lingering, bitter aftertaste. I spent a week in the hospital, my mind consumed with finding another way to die. The day I was discharged, Hamilton came to pick me up. A crowd of his fans had gathered at the entrance. They started shouting the moment they saw me. “Go to hell, Anya! Why didn’t you just die when you jumped?” “Such a manipulative, green-tea bitch!” “And you have the nerve to slander Hannah? You’re the real homewrecker! Who knows how many producers you slept with to get where you are!” The words went in one ear and out the other. After all these years, I was used to it. Hamilton always thought I was strong, good-tempered, and resilient. He’d praised my thick skin more than once. The truth was, I was just numb from the pain. So hurt that my face no longer showed it. We finally managed to shake the fans, and Hamilton’s car pulled up in front of me. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Hannah’s slightly flushed face. “Anya, hurry, get in! Your haters will be back any second. Don’t get us caught in the crossfire, haha.” She stuck her tongue out, grinning like a cat that had gotten the cream. Hamilton wasn’t angry at all. He just smiled at Hannah, his eyes filled with an unconscious softness. The passenger seat, once exclusively mine, had been redecorated. It was now filled with small cosmetics, a makeup mirror, and Hannah’s favorite bunny-eared plushie and snacks. These were all things Hamilton had forbidden me from bringing into his car. He’d claimed they could damage the interior or be misinterpreted by the paparazzi. Looking at it now, I realized the truth. It was never about the car. It was about who he loved. But it didn’t matter. I took two steps back, hailed a taxi, and went back to the small apartment I was renting. 4. I sold most of my belongings and donated the money to a charity for underprivileged children. Just as I was preparing to slit my wrists with a shard of porcelain, the doorbell rang. Hamilton stood outside, his face dark, with a red-eyed Hannah trailing behind him. “Anya, are you determined to keep fighting with me? I honestly don’t understand what I did to upset you this time!” He let out a sigh, his gaze heavy as he looked at me, a hint of helplessness in his eyes. “Fine. It’s your birthday today, so I won’t argue with you. I bought you a cake. I came to celebrate with you.” Hannah blushed and stammered out a “Happy Birthday.” My gaze, however, was fixed on the necklace she was wearing. Hannah touched it, a sweet smile on her face. “Hamilton gave it to me. I liked it the moment I saw it. He said it was just a little trinket, so he let me have it.” Hamilton nodded, walking into the room and sitting down as if he owned the place. “It was old anyway. It was just sitting around. If Hannah likes it, she can have it. Besides, I never really liked it.” I froze, stunned for a moment. That was a matching couple’s necklace we had bought when we first got together. It was only a few hundred dollars, not particularly fancy, but he had treasured it. “I’m going to keep this forever! It’s a symbol of our love, it’s special. If I ever lose it, you can punish me by never letting me see you again, okay?” Every year on his birthday, he would wear that necklace with me. Last year, he stopped. I didn’t ask why. I just never imagined it would end up around Hannah’s neck. 5. When the cake box was opened, Hamilton froze, a flicker of panic in his eyes. I stopped his hand as he tried to close the lid. I saw the four words written in frosting: Happy Wedding. Happy wedding, to Hamilton and Hannah. “They… they must have made a mistake. Anya, you’re not angry, are you? It’s just a cake. We can just scrape the words off.” Hannah’s face paled, but when Hamilton wasn’t looking, her eyes were filled with a triumphant provocation. “Anya, I’m so sorry. I messed up. It’s my fault for not giving the baker clear instructions. I’m so, so sorry. I really didn’t mean for this to happen.” She started to cry, her shoulders shaking. The guilt on Hamilton’s face vanished, replaced by a wave of protectiveness. He gently wiped her tears away, murmuring soft, comforting words. When he saw that I wasn’t speaking, his expression soured. “Anya! Hannah is already crying, why are you being so cold? It’s just a cake! I can just buy you another one.” “Can you stop being so petty? Besides, wasn’t it your little suicide stunt that got her harassed online in the first place? She’s already emotionally fragile, and she made the effort to come celebrate with you. Why do you have to be so difficult?” I rubbed my temples, weary. My heart felt nothing. Hamilton was right. It was just a cake. A flawed one. But was the cake the only thing that was flawed? “Hamilton, let’s break up.” He stood frozen, staring at me in disbelief. I didn’t wait for him to respond. My face was pale, my voice weak. “I’m going home. We won’t be seeing each other again. I wish you two a long and happy life together.” Crash. The water glass slipped from Hamilton’s hand and shattered on the floor. He just stood there, stunned, searching my face for any sign that I was lying. Finally, his voice came out, raw and hoarse. “Go home? Where would you go besides my place? You don’t have a home! Anya, can you stop this? You have no parents, no family, where could you possibly go?” “If you don’t want to apologize, just say so. I won’t force you. But you can’t just throw the word ‘breakup’ around like it’s nothing!” I shook my head weakly. My body was growing heavy, my vision blurring at the edges. Panic finally seized him. Just as I was about to collapse, he rushed forward and caught me in his arms. In his haste, he kicked over the black trash can. The pool of blood I had already let spilled out, staining the floor crimson. My arm, with its freshly cut wrist, slammed onto the hard floor, sending a jolt of pain through me. “Ah! Blood! So much blood!” Hannah shrieked. “Anya! Are you insane?! Anya, who told you to kill yourself! What kind of sick game are you playing now! ANYA!” His voice was fading. Hamilton. Let’s never meet again. Not in this lifetime, or the next.

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