Two days before our engagement party, Charles traced the tip of my finger with his thumb and suddenly brought it to his lips for a kiss. “Nora,” he murmured, “don’t all you girls love getting your nails done? How come you never do?” I was ironing the dress I planned to wear, and I smiled without looking up. “I’m on a computer all day. It’s a pain to type with long nails.” “You should get them done. A French almond manicure would look beautiful on you.” He brushed his thumb over the edge of my nail. “You know, with a sheer pink base and a little blooming effect. It would really suit your skin tone.” A hiss of steam from the iron scalded my hand. I flinched, looking up at him. “Since when do you know so much about manicures?” 1 The air hung still for a few seconds. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes before he forced a smile. “Oh, I just saw it online somewhere.” We’d known each other for fifteen years, been in love for ten. I knew him better than I knew myself. When he lied, he would look away and then flash that stiff, unnatural smile. Then, he’d change the subject. “I just remembered, I have a package downstairs I forgot to pick up. I’ll be right back.” He patted my head out of habit and walked out the door, not even bothering to change out of his slippers. His phone was sitting right there on the couch. I stared at it for a long moment before picking it up, my fingers typing in his passcode. After all this time together, it was the first time I had ever looked through his phone. There was nothing. It was pristine. I was his only pinned chat, my contact name saved as “The Wife.” The rest of his chat history was just family, our mutual friends, and colleagues. I should have been relieved. But the knot of dread in my stomach only tightened. On a dark impulse, I opened his contacts and checked the “recently added” list in his messaging app. There was only one person from the last three months. The profile picture was of Kyrie Irving in his jersey—Charles’s favorite basketball player. I tapped on the profile. It was a girl. Her username was Skylar. The chat history was gone. Even the initial “friend request accepted” notification had been deleted. I backed out and typed her username into the search bar. A group chat popped up: “The Drinking Crew.” Charles had archived the group, but the chat history was all there. Five people: Charles, Skylar, and Charles’s three childhood friends—Sean, Mike, and Ben. And just like that, I learned the truth. All those nights over the last three months when Charles was “suddenly called into work for overtime,” he was actually at a bar. Skylar was the bartender. The four of them were regulars. On July 6th, Sean had sent a photo. Skylar was nestled against Charles, her eyes hazy from drink, her arm wrapped around his as she laughed. I saw them instantly—her long, slender fingers, tipped with perfect French almond nails. 【Pic of the year!】 a message from Sean read. 【Charles, man, if Nora wasn’t in the picture, I’d totally set you two up.】 Charles’s reply: 【If Nora wasn’t in the picture, I wouldn’t need your help.】 July 15th, a message from Charles: 【Hey, don’t send that video of me and Skylar from last night to anyone. It was just an accident.】 Sean: 【Got you, bro. No worries.】 Skylar: 【It was just a drunken kiss. Don’t sweat it.】 【Your girlfriend isn’t that petty, is she?】 Followed by a string of laughing emojis. July 25th, a message from Mike: 【What the hell happened? Skylar, you’re a legend. You left a hickey on Charles’s neck!】 Ben: 【Charles, you’re a dead man. If Nora sees that, she’ll kill you!】 Charles: 【Haven’t been home for a couple of days. Been crashing at Skylar’s.】 I finally understood. The “sudden business trip” he’d taken was just an excuse to hide the mark on his neck from me. I kept scrolling. August 1st. The day Charles proposed to me. That night, he’d left me to “hang out with the guys” and didn’t come home. The next day, he showed up with a cut on his face. He said one of the guys got drunk and they’d gotten into a stupid fight. That wasn’t it at all. Sean: 【Charles, my man! Saving the damsel in distress!】 Charles: 【That bastard dared to hit on Skylar. I’m letting him off easy by not breaking his hands.】 Skylar: 【Thanks for last night. When you get married, who’s going to protect me like this?】 Charles: 【You’re my girl. Married or not, I’ll protect you forever.】 It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my heart, cutting off my air. As I finished reading, so many things from the past few months finally clicked into place. Charles’s suspiciously frequent overtime, the stray cat hairs on his clothes, the unfamiliar playlists that kept appearing on his Spotify. All of it. It was all connected to Skylar. It took me a full minute to absorb the reality. In the year we were supposed to get married, my fiancé’s heart had wandered. 2 I clicked on his payment history. A week ago, Charles had spent over a hundred dollars at a high-end nail salon downtown. The manicure… it finally all made sense. I heard a noise at the door and quickly placed his phone back on the couch. He returned with a pile of packages, all for me. “Here, this is that mille-crepe cake you’ve been wanting.” “And that phone case you liked. I bought it in all three colors.” “And this—your new Labubu blind box. I managed to snag it for you.” He laid everything out, then smiled at me. When he smiled, his eyes would curve into crescents. It was beautiful. “You’re so good to me.” “You’re my wife. Who else would I be good to?” I watched him, my heart feeling like it was being sliced apart. The next morning, I went to that nail salon. “Could you please pull up the security footage from this day?” In the video, he and Skylar walked in, arm in arm. Charles was even carrying her blue canvas tote bag. He sat on the sofa for the entire four-hour appointment, just waiting for her. Every now and then, Skylar would turn and say something to him. Even through the grainy footage, the adoration on his face was unmistakable. When her nails were done, she bounced over to him, holding out her hands for him to see. Charles smiled, leaned down, and gently squeezed her fingertips. I watched in silence until the salon employee handed me a tissue. Only then did I realize I was crying. I remember that day vividly. I was swamped with work and my stomach was killing me. After pulling an all-nighter, I had to force myself to go out and buy flowers and party favors for our engagement party. He had told me a major problem came up with his project and he couldn’t help. He even gave me a detailed, dramatic account of his boss throwing a fit. It had all been a lie. He’d spent those four hours in a nail salon with Skylar. “Have they been here before?” I asked the employee. She hesitated. “Miss Skylar is one of our regulars. She comes in about twice a month. For the past month, this gentleman has always come with her.” I nodded slowly. “I’d like the same thing she got. A French almond manicure. Sheer pink base, with a blooming effect.” When I got home that evening, Charles saw my new nails. The color drained from his face. “Do you like them?” I asked, waving my hand at him. He took an involuntary step back. “I got them done just like you suggested. Don’t you like them?” “They’re… beautiful.” I looked him straight in the eye. “Is there anything you want to say to me?” A storm of emotions churned in his eyes. Desperate panic he was trying to hide, hesitation, guilt. In the end, he just shook his head. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders in that familiar, intimate way. “Nora, let’s get some rest. Tomorrow is our big day.” “I suddenly remembered, Jenna needed me for something. I have to go over to her place for a bit,” I said, pulling away. He frowned slightly. “Your best friend has the worst timing. Why didn’t she say something earlier? It’s almost ten. Let me drive you.” I shook my head, slipped my hand from his grasp, and walked out of the apartment. Maybe I just wanted to rip the band-aid off, to make my heart break completely and get it over with. I went to Skylar’s bar—a place called “Serendipity.” 3 The lighting was dim and intimate, a lazy jazz tune drifting through the air. I spotted her immediately—the girl behind the bar, mixing a drink. She wore flawless makeup and had a head of rebellious pink hair. She was carefully tucking a slice of lemon against the inside of a glass. I never thought Charles would fall for someone so flashy, so vibrant. He always said he loved how quiet and gentle I was, how I was so understanding, like a flower that bloomed just for him. I walked up to the bar. “A Long Island Iced Tea, please.” Skylar glanced at me and offered a small, sad smile. “Coming right up. Just a moment.” “You don’t look very happy,” I observed. “…Is it that obvious?” She rubbed the corner of her eye. “The man I love is getting engaged tomorrow.” “Did you try to stop him?” She shook her head, her expression stubborn. “What right do I have? Our whole relationship was a mistake from the start.” I took the drink she offered, my voice trembling. “Make me another one. This one’s for you.” Maybe she was just desperate to unload the weight on her chest. All it took was one drink, and she started treating me like her personal diary, telling me every last detail about her and Charles. “I knew he had a girlfriend, but I fell for him anyway.” “I tried my clumsy little ways of flirting, of showing him I was interested. He knew what I was doing, but he never once pushed me away.” “One night, I got drunk and kissed him. I think we were both just waiting for it to happen. He pinned me against the bathroom stall… that was our first time.” “After we sobered up, he said he couldn’t betray his fiancée. But when I told him I was scared to be alone, he still came over.” “I know he doesn’t love his girlfriend anymore. That thirty-year-old hag, she’s so frumpy and old-fashioned, doesn’t even know how to put on makeup. I have no idea how he stood her for so many years.” “He told me he was getting engaged. I cried for hours, and he just held me and comforted me until I fell asleep. Then he left.” “I think I went crazy. I actually went to their apartment, his and his fiancée’s. He told me I was crazy, too. We ended up in their bedroom, on her bed. We didn’t even use a condom.” “I didn’t take a pill that time. I just kept thinking, if I got pregnant, maybe he would choose me.” “When he holds me, I can really feel that he loves me. If I had just met him first, there’s no way he would have chosen that old woman, right?” Her eyes were red and swollen. She gave me an embarrassed smile. “You don’t think I’m pathetic, do you?” In that moment, my heart felt like it had been hollowed out. The pain of betrayal and the sting of humiliation twisted together until it all went numb. A phone rang. She pulled it out, and a smile broke through her tears. “See? I told you he can’t let me go.” She put it on speaker. Charles’s voice drifted through the bar. “Babe, you at the bar? Can I come see you?” “You’re getting engaged tomorrow—” “I’m already outside. Just one last time. I want to hold you again.” By the time Charles walked in, I was already gone. Standing on the street corner, I watched as Skylar flew into his arms. The kiss was fierce and desperate. I clutched my chest, turned, and walked away without doing a thing.

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The Game descended. To save their own skins, my adoptive parents threw me into the trial in their place. 【Who the hell tossed a three-year-old in here? I’ll bet she doesn’t last the night.】 【I’ll give her half an hour, tops.】 On the first night, the security guard who’d been boiled alive in the heat opened his bloody maw to devour me. I blew a tiny puff of air toward him. “A little breeze to cool you down, Grandpa~” On the second night, the dripping phantom of a girl wrapped her icy hands around my throat. I used my sleeve to wipe the water from her face. “Be careful, big sister, or you’ll catch a cold!” … On the final day, the last remaining players kidnapped me, trying to steal the protective relics I carried. That’s when every single Boss in the realm went berserk. “HAS ANYONE SEEN MY BABY?!” 1 【Welcome to the Evergreen Estates Realm.】 【Survive for one week to clear this trial.】 【Initial Players: 7—】 The system’s eerie voice hitched for a second. 【Initial Players: 6.5. The kid counts as half. Have a nice, quick death.】 “You’ve got to be kidding me, a kid?” “She won’t make it through the night.” A cold glint flashed in a middle-aged man’s eyes. “Well, if you’re going to die anyway, you can scout ahead for us!” With that, he shoved me, hard, into the sprawling, desolate suburban complex. I tumbled head over heels, the rough gravel tearing open the half-healed cuts on my knees. A sharp gasp of pain escaped my lips. I pushed myself up, patting the dust from my worn-out clothes. “It doesn’t hurt, Cici. It doesn’t hurt.” I sniffled, forcing back the tears that burned my eyes. Crying was not an option. The last time I cried, my adoptive mother slapped me until my head rang. “Useless brat, crying all our good luck away!” she’d shrieked. “A psychic told us adopting a girl would bring our son good fortune. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have wasted a dime on you!” I shoved the memory down, scrubbing at my damp eyes with the back of my hand. Limping, I made my way to the security booth at the entrance. 【That’s the room of the S-Class Boss, Arthur! No one who enters ever comes out alive!】 【God, that poor kid. I can’t even watch.】 【You can’t blame the other players. It’s survival of the fittest in here. Everyone’s just trying to live.】 I knocked on the door of the security booth. The moment I did, the sky plunged into a sudden, deep twilight. The door creaked open. An old man emerged, his skin a terrifying, purplish-red. Sweat poured from him, drenching his uniform, and his eyes bulged from their sockets as if they were about to pop out. Nine cats swirled around his ankles. “Hot… so hot…” he rasped, his voice like a skipping record. The comments in the live feed flew by. 【Arthur will throw you into a high-temperature steamer and cook you alive… That kid is done for.】 【And those cats aren’t normal. They’ll strip you to the bone.】 【I’m out. Switching to another stream.】 But in the next second, one of the cats began to rub against my leg. I froze, stunned by the soft, unfamiliar feeling. I stared down, wide-eyed. “Grandpa,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly, “the kitty… it keeps bumping its head on me!” 【LOL, I’m dead. The cat’s trying to be all spooky and seductive, and she’s just like, ‘Help, it’s ramming me!’】 【Aww, sweetie, you’re too cute for this world.】 【That cat ghost is thinking, ‘I’m throwing my best moves at a brick wall here.’】 【Wait, isn’t it supposed to eat her? Why is it cuddling?】 The cat heard me and paused, its furry body stiffening. It opened its mouth in an annoyed hiss, fangs glinting, ready to bite. But I knelt, stroking its head gently, then scratching under its chin. A deep, rumbling “purrrrr” vibrated from its chest. I’d never been allowed to touch a cat before. My adoptive parents made me sleep in the cold corner of the basement with the family dog, and that dog would lunge at any cat it saw. I’d tried to stop it a few times and gotten bitten for my trouble. This was the first time a cat had ever nudged me. The other eight cats crowded around, pushing their heads against my hands, all demanding to be petted. I went from one to the next, scratching and stroking until my forehead was beaded with sweat. 【Is this for real? She’s turned a horror game into a cat café!】 【So… we’re supposed to pet the ghost cats? Last time I tried that, one bit my hand off. I’m typing this with my foot.】 【Ew, dude.】 The lead cat meowed at Arthur a few times. He was silent for a long moment, then said in a strange, gravelly tone, “You can come in.” Cradling one of the smaller cats in my arms, I followed Arthur inside. The tiny security booth was suffocatingly hot and airless. It felt like an oven. But the cats had their own dedicated fan, and every single one looked sleek and well-cared-for. The moment Arthur stepped inside, sweat began to pour down his face like rain. Carefully, I turned the fan so it pointed toward him. Instantly, Arthur’s eyes blazed crimson, and blood began to trickle from the corners. “WHO TOLD YOU-YOU COULD TOUCH MY FAN?!” he roared. 【Okay, now she’s really dead… Arthur hates anyone touching his fan.】 【RIP, little one.】 He snatched me up, his mouth stretching impossibly wide, lined with teeth as sharp as needles. It was big enough to swallow me whole. “Whoosh,” I whispered, blowing a gentle puff of air at his face. I reached out my small hand and wiped the sweat from his temple. “I’ll blow on it to make it better, Grandpa. Then you won’t be so hot~” 2 Arthur was sweating so much; he must have been miserable. I focused on my task, blowing little puffs of air as earnestly as I could. I was so concentrated that I didn’t see the flicker of astonishment in his eyes. His jaw snapped shut with a click, just before a line of drool could escape. He carefully set me back on the floor. That was a close one. His gaze fell to the scrapes on my legs and lingered there for a long moment. Finally, he tossed a small box at my feet. Inside were antiseptic wipes and clean bandages. I’d never used things like this before. At home, even if I was beaten until I could barely breathe, my adoptive parents wouldn’t have even given me a single band-aid. But if my brother, Kevin, got so much as a paper cut, they’d rush him to the doctor in a panic. This was the first time anyone had ever shown me this kind of small, warm concern. I sniffled, wrapping my arms around his leg and looking up at him with all the sincerity in my small heart. “Thank you for taking care of Cici, Grandpa. Cici is so happy!” The fierce, terrifying expression on Arthur’s face softened. The old ghost let out a strange, weary sigh. He lifted me onto a chair, knelt, and began to clean and bandage my wounds with a gentle touch, like a real grandfather caring for his granddaughter. The live feed chat was just a stream of question marks. 【?】 【My brain has short-circuited. Is this happening?】 【Did I accidentally switch to a family channel? Where’s the horror? Bro, you’re supposed to be eating people! It’s work time!】 【The only person who could say no to Cici is this [thumbs up]. I am this [thumbs down].】 Night fell. The players who had been waiting outside the community gates grew restless. Mark, the man who’d thrown me in, scowled. “Why haven’t we heard the system announce that little brat’s death yet?” Arthur had to feed once every night. If he was satisfied, the rest of them would be safe to enter the complex. Just as he finished speaking, the system’s voice echoed through the darkness. 【Night has fallen. All players must now choose a residence.】 【Anyone not inside the Estates in ten minutes will be eliminated.】 【Current Survivors: 6.5.】 “Damn it, that kid is still alive!” “I’m gonna find out what kind of relic she’s hiding!” By the time Mark reached the security booth, I was already fast asleep. Arthur had made a small cot for me and was humming a quiet lullaby. I was used to sleeping on a pile of rags in the basement. This was the first time I’d ever had a soft bed of my own. A bed where I didn’t have to worry about the rain leaking in or being startled awake in the middle of the night. “Thank you, Grandpa,” I’d murmured before drifting off. “You’re so nice.” Inside the booth, everything was peaceful. Outside, Mark was completely bewildered. He couldn’t stop a small, confused “Huh?” from escaping his lips. The sound made me stir and frown in my sleep. Arthur glanced at me, then immediately stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him. He loomed over Mark, his voice a low, vicious snarl. “Who gave you permission to make a sound?!” Mark’s eyes widened in terror. He opened his mouth to scream, but in the next second… CRACK. Mark was quietly eliminated. 【Serves him right! Trying to use Cici as a scapegoat.】 【Arthur is so protective! I’ve never seen a ghost look so… paternal. I think I might be going crazy.】 The system announced that there were now 4.5 players left. I woke up and rubbed my eyes as my stomach let out a loud, gurgling growl. I clapped my hands over it, embarrassed, and glanced around. I hope no one heard that… At home, I was always hungry. I’d never had a full meal in my life, so I was used to the feeling. I pushed the hunger down and smiled up at Arthur. “Good morning, Grandpa!” He glanced at my flat tummy, then at the food sitting on his counter—a bowl of what looked like stew with strange, misshapen chunks of meat in it. He paused for a moment, then took the bowl away. “Wait here,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. And with that, he vanished. Arthur reappeared in front of the remaining players, holding the bowl of stew in one hand while his other hand closed around their throats. “Give. Me. Food.” The players, pale with terror, stammered, “W-what food?” 【Player’s internal monologue: What food? Aren’t WE the food?!】 3 【Why is Arthur out during the day?】 【Dude, I think he’s getting food for Cici… Humans can’t eat ghost food.】 In the next moment, Arthur held the bowl of stew out to one of the players. “You took something of mine. Now give me your food in return!” In the realm, everyone survived on dry rations that barely kept the hunger at bay. The sight of the steaming, fragrant stew with its huge chunks of meat made the players swallow hard. Two of them exchanged a look and quickly pulled out their own meager supplies. Arthur didn’t torment them further. He took their offerings and disappeared. Whether they dared to eat his stew was their choice. When Arthur returned to the security booth, the system announced that two more players were gone. “Grandpa, where did you go?” I asked, blinking up at him as I quickly hid something behind my back. Arthur saw my movement but didn’t call me out on it. “I was making breakfast,” he said. “You can play by yourself for a little while.” I let out a sigh of relief. I took out the piece of cardstock I’d been hiding and carefully drew on it before folding it into a fan. Grandpa was always so hot. I wanted to make him a gift before I had to leave. 【Aww, Cici and her grandpa are so sweet, always thinking of each other.】 【Cici is such a good kid. Never cries, never complains even when she’s starving. God, I wonder what her life was like before this.】 Soon, the delicious smell of cooking filled the small room. Arthur placed a plate of fluffy pancakes in front of me. And five sausage links. And a big bowl of oatmeal. “You’re hungry, aren’t you? Eat up.” 【This is giving me ‘My grandpa thinks I’m starving’ energy.】 I had never seen so much food for breakfast. Each plate was piled high. At home, I only ever ate Kevin’s leftovers—a few grains of rice, gnawed-on bones, and wilted, slimy vegetables. No one ever cared if I was hungry or not. My heart felt like it was soaking in warm water, aching with a sweet, unfamiliar feeling. I couldn’t stop my eyes from welling up. I hugged Arthur’s leg tightly. “Thank you, Grandpa. I hope you live for a hundred years…” Arthur froze for a second, then said with a helpless sigh, “Silly girl, I’m already—” I cut him off by pulling the paper fan I’d secretly made from my pocket. “Grandpa, when I’m gone, there won’t be anyone to blow cool air for you. You can use this instead.” He stared at it, stunned. His cloudy, old eyes grew misty. His weathered hand trembled as he took the simple gift. “Child, I’m the one who should be thanking you.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Before you came, I’d almost forgotten who I used to be. But now… now I remember everything.” As he fed me, Arthur told me the story of his life. He had been a security guard at a high school. When a brutal heatwave hit, the school refused to install air conditioning and withheld his pay. He couldn’t even afford a fan for himself. He had also taken in nine stray cats. He spent his last few dollars on a fan for them, while he himself boiled to death in his tiny dorm room. The moment he finished his story, the system’s AI voice trembled. 【Congratulations. You have completed the hidden task: The Cause of Arthur’s Death. Reward: 2000 points, redeemable for items.】 The live feed exploded. 【Whoa, I’ve never heard that story before.】 【Not even the top S-rank players from the major guilds ever figured out how he died.】 【Damn, that’s so tragic… I actually feel bad for the ghost now.】 【Cici is the GOAT!! The leaders of all the big guilds are here. Are they trying to recruit her?】 I knew nothing about any of that. All I did was hug Arthur and plant a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek. I grinned up at him. “Cici will grow up big and strong and become an awesome adult who can protect you, Grandpa!” 【My heart is melting… my baby.】 【Cici’s dimples are so cute I could die! I just wanna poke them!!】 Arthur turned away to quickly wipe his eyes. He handed me his own electric fan. “Tonight, you have to go to another room. This will protect you.” 【Haunted Relic Acquired: Arthur’s Fan. Ghosts below S-Class will flee at the sight of you.】 As Arthur walked me out of the security booth, I kept looking back over my shoulder. “I’ll come back to visit, Grandpa!” I clutched the hard-boiled eggs and biscuits he’d packed for me to eat on my journey. He smiled, a fond, grandfatherly expression on his face, and waved. “Be a good girl now, and don’t you trip!” 【This is literally me and my grandpa.】 【I miss my grandpa…】 【What is this, a wholesome family documentary? Meanwhile, another top player just got wasted next door.】 【Don’t call her Cici anymore. That’s my Queen.】 I walked on until I reached the door of Room 101 and knocked. A blast of frigid, damp air washed over me. The room was covered in water stains, overwhelmingly humid and cold. A stunningly beautiful woman in a slinky red dress stood there. Her hair was soaking wet, dripping constantly onto the floor. The moment she saw me, her face twisted into a grotesque mask of rage. Her crimson eyes began to ooze blood, which streamed down her cheeks. 【That’s Elara… she drowns people in a cistern.】 【The high-ranked player from earlier died in here!】 【There’s no problem my Queen Cici can’t handle.】 【You guys are hilarious. What’s a kid gonna do?】 I had never seen a dress so vibrant and beautiful. I didn’t even notice the horrifying change in Elara’s face. I couldn’t help but exclaim, “Big sister, you’re so pretty!” “That dress looks amazing on you!” At the word “dress,” her hand shot out and clamped around my neck. Her lovely features contorted with fury. “You’re here to tell me my clothes are indecent, too? Is that it?” she hissed, her voice a venomous whisper. “Indecent… slut… tramp.” “I’ll kill you all. I’ll kill every last one of you.” 【Oh no, this is her trigger. Elara was slut-shamed and humiliated before being drowned in a pool. She’s extremely sensitive about her clothes.】 【I think this is it for Cici…】

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I was scrolling through a popular social media channel when I came across a street interview. “What would you say to yourself from five years ago?” In the video, Christian Frost had his arm around his new girlfriend. His voice was calm, laced with affection. “I’d tell the Christian from five years ago to find Lily Lin sooner.” The girl in his arms blushed, covering her mouth as she agreed. “Me too.” Online comments exploded with adoration, followers showering them with blessings. No one knew that five years ago was the day Christian and I got married. Even he had forgotten. Until a week later. The same channel posted another street interview. In this one, I looked directly into the camera and said, seriously, “If I could, I’d tell her: Claire Kingsley, don’t marry Christian Frost. You’ll regret it.” This time, Christian saw it. 1 The day I agreed to the divorce was a perfectly ordinary afternoon. I called Christian’s number, but it was Lily who answered. “Hello?” “I’m looking for Christian.” “He’s in the shower. Is there something I can help you with?” Her voice was as bright and fearless as ever, tinged with a possessive, almost triumphant, undertone. The old me would have screamed, would have hysterically demanded she get lost, that I needed to speak to Christian. But now, I knew all too well that Lily was the only one who could get him on the phone. I couldn’t let her hang up on me like she always did, leaving me to rage like a madwoman. “He mentioned a divorce before. I agree to it,” I said calmly, getting straight to the point. There was a second of silence on the other end, then she repeated, disbelieving, “You’re agreeing to a divorce?” “Yes.” The word had barely left my lips when I heard a rustling sound. Christian must have taken the phone. Soon, his deep, indifferent voice was in my ear. “It’s me.” I know. Hearing his voice, I felt a strange sense of detachment. It had been six months since he’d moved out of our villa to be with Lily. We hadn’t spoken since. The last thing he’d said to me was: “Claire, let’s get a divorce. If you don’t agree, I’ll file for legal separation and then sue.” Now, half a year later, I had finally caved. “Lily said you want to divorce me?” he asked when I didn’t speak. He must have been frowning as he said it, his tone laced with a hint of confusion. I couldn’t understand where his confusion was coming from. He was the one who had brought it up. But I no longer had the energy to argue with him about who initiated it. I just hummed in agreement. “If you have time, let’s meet and sign the papers.” Then, I hung up. 2 It was the first time I had ever hung up on him since discovering his affair. Before, I was the one bombarding his phone with calls and texts. I’d used the most vicious words to curse him and the most heartbroken sobs to beg him. But every time, Christian would say, annoyed, “Can you stop acting like a lunatic? Talk to me when you’ve calmed down.” Then he would mercilessly end the call, ignoring my frantic attempts to reach him again. I wanted to be calm, but whenever I thought about our years together ending like this, I couldn’t control myself. I wanted to demand answers, to know why he had betrayed me. I wanted to beg him to come back, promising I would forgive him. But all my pleading and waiting had led to nothing. Christian remained unchanged. And I, slowly, became the insecure, unhinged person he accused me of being. A real lunatic. I floated through a long period in a haze, drowning in the agony of our relationship. Until three days ago. I stumbled upon a street interview video by a content creator called “Time Capsule.” The question was: “What would you say to yourself from five years ago?” Some said they’d study harder. Others wished they’d spent more time with their families. One person proudly declared that their future self was amazing, having lived up to all their expectations. And then, amidst the stream of answers, I saw him. Christian, with his new girlfriend, Lily. That’s how I knew it wasn’t scripted. Given Christian’s current status, even the most famous creators had to book appointments to see him. This interviewer had truly just caught him on the street, like any other random passerby. At first, Christian seemed annoyed by the interruption. But Lily, beside him, was beaming with excitement. “Oh, this looks fun, Christian! Let’s do it, please?” she begged, shaking his arm playfully. Christian’s expression softened into one of resigned indulgence. The interviewer explained the concept and then posed the question. Lily paused to think, and Christian, seeing her struggle, answered for her. “If I could, I’d tell the Christian from five years ago to find Lily Lin sooner.” He said it with his arm wrapped around her. His voice was cool, but the protective affection he had for her was unmistakable. Lily looked up at him in surprise, then shyly covered her mouth and whispered, “Me too.” 3 By the time I saw the video, it already had tens of thousands of likes. The comments were a flood of adoration. 【OMG! They’re so gorgeous! I ship it!】 【My heart! A true love story! There’s hope for us all!】 【So sweet! You two have to be happy forever! Wishing you all the best!】 I stared at the video, stunned. Did Christian really love her that much? Had he forgotten? Five years ago, we had just gotten married. We were at the peak of our love. We were poor, but we were deliriously happy. And now, here he was, on camera, saying he wished he had met her five years earlier. I expected to feel the usual surge of rage, the uncontrollable fury. I expected to grab my phone and unleash a torrent of angry calls and texts. If he didn’t answer, I would have smashed everything in the villa to pieces, screaming my frustration into the void. But strangely, this time, I just sat there, perfectly still. The comments that should have stung, that should have provoked me, just scrolled past my eyes like lines of code. Then, something inside my head seemed to loosen and drift away. And I was shocked to find… I felt nothing. Obsession can be born in an instant, and clarity, it turns out, can arrive just as quickly. And that’s what led to my phone call. 4 Christian sent me a message. Amidst a sea of red exclamation marks from my blocked messages, his new text stood out in its simple black and white box. Looks like he’d unblocked me, I thought with a self-deprecating smirk. He told me to come to his office on Monday. His lawyer would have the agreement ready. If we both agreed on the terms, we could sign and then just wait for the mandatory cooling-off period to pass. 【Okay.】 On Monday, I went to Christian’s company as planned. Since I didn’t have an appointment, the receptionist had to call upstairs for clearance. “Yes, a Ms. Kingsley is here.” After hanging up, she told me to go up to the executive floor, where a secretary would meet me. I thanked her and headed up. The young woman who greeted me was a stranger. I didn’t recognize her. But then again, it had been six months since I’d last set foot in this place. She was probably a new hire. “Ms. Kingsley, please wait here. Mr. Frost is in a meeting.” She didn’t know me either. She called me Ms. Kingsley and led me to a waiting area. I used to go straight to Christian’s office. His meetings always lasted at least an hour, and I hated waiting. He knew this, so he’d filled his office with books and movies to keep me from getting bored. “You can read or watch a movie. If you get tired, you can wait for me in the break room,” he’d told me back then. The last time I was here, all my things had been removed from his office. The person with free access to his private lounge was someone else. Now, to see him, I had to wait in a generic reception area. But I didn’t have the energy to fight over such a small thing anymore. So I waited quietly. I had plenty of time. I didn’t expect to wait for two hours. Still, no one came to get me. “Excuse me, is Mr. Frost’s meeting over yet?” I finally asked the young woman who had shown me in. She fidgeted. “Mr. Frost is… still in the meeting…” I frowned, about to say something, when I heard laughter down the hall. “Let’s go to that new restaurant for lunch, then.” “Okay!” 5 The voices were painfully familiar. I had just heard them on the phone the night before. There was Lily, clutching a folder, skipping alongside Christian. The young, beautiful girl was a vibrant splash of color, bright and confident. Christian was leaning in, listening to her, a small smile playing on his lips. I don’t know what she said, but the smile on his face deepened. “Miss…” The young secretary tried to stop me as I walked directly towards them, but it was too late. “Christian.” Hearing my voice, they both turned. I clearly saw the flicker of surprise and astonishment on Christian’s face. I asked him if his meeting was over. If it was, it was time to discuss our business. “I got here at ten. I’ve been waiting for two hours.” “Who told you I was in a meeting?” he asked, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion. I was taken aback. I looked at him, and the puzzlement in his eyes seemed real. We both realized what had happened at the same time. I didn’t say anything. Christian’s gaze swept across the office, cold and serious. The employees all bowed their heads, not daring to speak. The young woman who had led me to the waiting room shrank back, her head bowed. But just before she did, her eyes darted towards Lily. Of course. In this entire office, the only person who could pull a stunt like this was Lily. “I forgot to tell everyone the meeting was canceled. I didn’t do it on purpose. I’m sorry, Mr. Frost,” Lily said, biting her lip and looking up at Christian with wide, innocent eyes. He had always been lenient with her. This time was no different. He didn’t say a word of reprimand. “Come in,” he said, looking at me, dismissing the incident. As I walked past Lily, I saw the pride and defiance in her eyes. 6 “Have a seat.” Inside his office, Christian treated me like a guest. I glanced at the sofa. It was piled with cute, fluffy stuffed animals. The bookshelf that once held my favorite novels was now a snack rack. The door to the private lounge was ajar. Through the crack, I could see a woman’s clothes casually thrown on the end of the bed. Christian looked at me, his expression unreadable. I felt a pang of awkwardness and quickly looked away. “Where’s the agreement?” He handed me the divorce papers from his desk. As I reviewed them, his eyes never left my face. “We’ve been together for so many years. I won’t be stingy. You can have your pick of the cars and houses. If you have any other demands, you can make them now.” Was this supposed to be compensation? The thought flickered through my mind, but it didn’t slow me down. The assets Christian was giving me in the agreement were more than I could spend in several lifetimes. He had always been generous. “This is fine. I’ll just take the villa we’re living in now,” I said. I signed my name cleanly and handed the papers back to him. Christian seemed to have more to say. I saw his lips part, then close again as I acted. He stared at the papers in my hand, as if he couldn’t believe the entire process had taken less than five minutes. I stood up. “The cooling-off period is a month. I’ll contact you then.” I turned to leave. “Claire.” “Is there something else?” “Don’t you have anything to say to me?” Christian’s brow was furrowed, his eyes filled with disbelief, his tone a questioning probe. I looked at him, confused. Seeing that he was serious, I thought for a moment and then asked, genuinely, “At this point, you don’t actually expect me to wish you and Lily a lifetime of happiness and a house full of kids, do you?” I may have moved on, but I wasn’t that generous. “…” He was speechless. Christian’s gaze was like a deep, dark pool, his emotions impossible to read. As I reached for the doorknob, I heard his voice again. “Claire, in the end, I’m the one who wronged you. I’ll continue to cover your mother’s medical expenses.”

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1 Sebastian and I were a merger waiting to happen—a dynastic agreement inked before we could walk. But he wanted out. And to force my hand, he’d orchestrated a cliché: his best friend was waiting in the wings to play the hero. After my family’s assets were frozen, Sebastian forced me into a high-stakes poker game with the flavor of the month, a starlet named Tessa. Tessa sat nestled in the crook of Sebastian’s arm, her smile sharp enough to cut glass. “If you lose, darling, you owe me three favors. Anything I ask.” I hesitated, my eyes flickering to the tablet on the table where the charity livestream chat was scrolling at hyperspeed. @DramaLlama: Sienna! Don’t do it! It’s a trap set by the ML. He wants the rival to humiliate you so his buddy can swoop in and ‘save’ you! @TruthTea: Yeah, and once you break the engagement, the buddy is gonna ghost you hard. @RomanceReader99: Then Sebastian goes after his ‘One That Got Away’ guilt-free. @DarkTimeline: And you lose the marriage protection. Your dad will lose it, and your mom gets sold down the river to pay the debts! Reading that, the corner of my lip quirked upward. I looked Tessa dead in the eye. “Deal.” Sebastian didn’t know two things. One: I was the “One That Got Away” he’d been pining for online for years. Two: when I eventually collapsed, sobbing, into his best friend Chase’s arms, Sebastian’s composure was going to shatter into a million jagged pieces. 2 When the bankruptcy hit, my father made it clear: if the Sebastian merger failed, my mother was the collateral. Sebastian once mentioned he liked “good girls.” So, for ten years, I played the part. I wore the pearls, I lowered my voice, I folded my hands in my lap. It didn’t matter. I could have set myself on fire and he wouldn’t have looked up from his phone. The only reason we were still engaged was his refusal to be the bad guy who broke a family pact. Then came Tessa. She hung off his arm like a designer accessory, laying out the terms of the bet. Three favors. I agreed without blinking. They didn’t know that my online alter ego, Vesper, was a legend in the underground gambling circuit. I never lost when it came to probability and cards. But as my hand hovered over the final discard, the livestream chat exploded with spoilers about Chase’s scripted rescue and the trap to induce a breakup. I froze. I looked at Sebastian, whose cool eyes held a flicker of tension, and at Chase, who looked like he was rehearsing lines in his head. I swapped the King of Hearts for a Three of Diamonds. “I fold,” I said, my voice steady. “I lose.” Tessa’s grin widened as the chat went nuclear. @CardShark: How did she lose? Is the actress actually good? @PlotTwist: No way. Tessa’s playing the ‘Vesper’ role to trick Sebastian. It’s tragic he doesn’t know Sienna is the real deal. @GalaxyBrain: Wait… did Sienna lose on purpose? Ignoring the digital noise, I fixed my gaze on Sebastian. For years, I’d been taking high-level freelance contracts under the alias Vesper to buy my mother’s freedom. I’d just closed the final deal. We were almost out. And all this time, I hadn’t realized that King of Spades—my online rival, the cold, calculating strategist I’d battled across servers—was Sebastian. The chat said he was in love with Vesper, and Tessa had convinced him she was her. I watched them. Sebastian’s hand rested lightly, possessively, on Tessa’s waist. “I won,” Tessa purred, leaning into him. “Three favors, right? You won’t let her back out, will you, Seb?” A rare, indulgent smile touched Sebastian’s lips. “Don’t worry. I won’t let Sienna welch on a bet.” “Great. First favor,” Tessa said, arching a perfectly sculpted brow at me. “I want Miss Sienna to join us for the polo match this weekend.” Before I could answer, Chase slid into the space beside me, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t worry, Si. If Seb is too busy with Tessa, I’ll look out for you.” I almost laughed. They were really committing to the bit. Fine, I thought. I’ll watch your little play. I forced my eyes to rim with red, turning slightly toward Chase. “Okay.” 3 The polo grounds in the Hamptons smelled of cut grass and old money. I played the role of the novice, gripping my mallet so hard my knuckles turned white. Tessa trotted past on a gleaming chestnut mare, a cloud of expensive oud and leather trailing behind her—Sebastian’s signature scent. “Oops, sorry,” she called out, pulling up. “I assumed a debutante like you knew how to ride. First time?” She smirked. “Need a lesson?” A ripple of laughter went through the spectator stands. “Tessa and Seb are the power couple we deserve,” someone whispered loud enough to hear. “Fire and Ice.” “Why is Sienna still clinging to him? It’s pathetic.” They all assumed that after my family’s fall, I’d been cut off from this world. They didn’t know I’d worked late shifts exercising ponies at these very stables and cleaning locker rooms to pay off interest rates. I could hit a ball through a needle’s eye at full gallop. Sebastian’s eyes were glued to Tessa. Chase stepped in front of me, blocking my view. “It’s okay,” he said, voice low and sturdy. “Just remember what I told you. I’ve got you.” I nodded, widening my eyes to look up at him. “I only have you, Chase.” The whistle blew. As I squeezed my horse’s flanks, I felt the stirrup give way. @InsiderInfo: Seb is ruthless. He let his crew sabotage the stirrup. There’s talc in her glove too. @SafetyFirst: Are they trying to kill her?! I felt the leather strap loosen. I looked upfield. Sebastian and Tessa were a synchronized unit, turning the match into a duet. I ignored the stirrup and kicked into a gallop. I thundered up beside Tessa. I shifted my weight. She glanced at me, a sneer forming. Just as I mimed losing my balance, looking like I was about to tumble, I locked my core, corrected my seat, and swung my mallet. Crack. The ball screamed through the air, grazing her horse’s shin guard. The mare spooked and reared. Tessa went down in a heap of white denim and indignity. If you want to play dirty, make sure you can stay in the saddle. Sebastian was there in a heartbeat, abandoning the play. I dismounted quickly, feigning panic. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I—” Sebastian didn’t even look at me. He shoved me aside with enough force that I stumbled back onto the turf. He scooped Tessa up, his face etched with a panic I’d never seen directed at me. “Get the medic!” he roared, carrying her off the field. My chest gave a painful, involuntary throb. Ten years. Even if he didn’t love me, we grew up together. And he pushed me into the dirt without a second thought. Chase was there instantly, helping me up. I faked a limp. Without asking, he swept me into a bridal carry. I had to hand it to him. Even if it was a setup, Chase was a hell of an actor. 4 In the infirmary, I cried with practiced elegance, making sure my best angle was facing Chase. He knelt, massaging my “injured” ankle. I watched him through wet lashes. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I’ve always known Sebastian and I were… different. I only stayed because of the families.” Chase looked suitably pained. “Seb’s just… cold. You know everyone else loves you. My mom talks about you constantly.” I gave him a brave, watery smile. He blushed. Later, at the dinner, I sat quietly while Chase fussed over my water glass. Sebastian was busy acting as a human shield for Tessa’s wine intake. Tessa, recovering miraculously fast, leaned forward. “I won’t hold the accident against you, Sienna. But since we’re here…” She slid a glass of deep crimson wine toward me. “Try this. Grand Cru Pinot Noir. It’s exquisite.” I flinched, twisting the fabric of my dress. Sebastian, from the head of the table, shot me a look of impatience. “I… I don’t really drink,” I stammered. Everyone knew Sienna, the Good Girl, was a teetotaler. Tessa pouted at Sebastian. He turned to me, his eyes devoid of warmth. “Consider it an apology. And your second favor to her.” I bit my lip, took the glass, and downed it in one go. It burned, but I kept my face blank. One glass. Two. Three. Sebastian didn’t intervene. Chase hovered, looking nervous. But the more I drank, the sharper my eyes became. Tessa’s smile began to falter. I hid a smirk behind the crystal rim. They didn’t know I’d spent years bartending in dive bars to make rent. I could drink a sailor under the table. When I reached for another, Tessa panicked. “That’s enough.” She stared at me, waiting for the sedative she’d spiked the decanter with to hit. I just smiled. Suddenly, a small designer dog—one of the guests’ purse pets—scuttled out from under the table and began enthusiastically humping Sebastian’s Italian leather shoe. Sebastian’s face went stiff. Tessa looked horrified. “Since Tessa said stop, I assume the second favor is done,” I said, standing up smoothly. “Only one left.” I turned to leave. @Sherlock: Did she switch the glasses? Is the dog drugged?! @CinemaSins: LMAO. Sienna is a magician. Sebastian looks like he wants to die. Sebastian stared at my retreating back, a frown creasing his forehead as if he sensed a glitch in the matrix. I swayed, letting myself fall naturally against Chase. I put a hand to my forehead. “I think… the wine is hitting me.” 5 Chase looked like a deer in headlights, trying to shepherd me toward the guest rooms, but Tessa’s voice stopped him cold. “Sienna,” she slurred, her cheeks flushed with victory and wine. She draped herself over Sebastian. “I’m calling in the third favor right now.” The table went silent. “The third favor,” she announced, “is that you let me have Sebastian.” You could hear a pin drop. Guests at nearby tables stopped chewing. Sebastian said nothing. He didn’t push her away. I stayed silent for a long beat, looking down at my phone. A text from my mother had just come through: Debt cleared. Divorce finalized. I’m free. The shackles were off. I took a breath, letting my shoulders drop. “Okay.” It’s over. Sebastian’s head snapped up. The relief he expected to feel was visibly absent, replaced by confusion. He needed to reassert control. “I’m sorry, Sienna,” he said, his voice loud enough for the room. “But tonight is full of eligible bachelors. Why don’t we play a game? I’ve assigned everyone a card. You draw. Whoever you pick, you date. I’ll make sure they treat you right.” @FeministRage: This is disgusting. He’s auctioning her off? @RomanceLogic: He thinks she’s boring. He wants a firecracker like ‘Vesper.’ He has no idea. I ignored him and checked my messages. A notification from my handler: New contract. Vesper, someone wants the dirt on the Sterling family empire. Interested? I looked at a gloating Tessa. I looked at an oblivious Sebastian. Yes, I typed back. Sebastian fanned the deck of cards. Twelve times I drew. Twelve times, without looking, I pulled the Jack of Clubs. Chase’s card. Chase’s jaw was on the floor. Sebastian stared at the cards, his brow furrowing as he calculated the statistical impossibility. Before he could do the math, I threw myself into Chase’s arms, letting a sob escape. “Chase… you’re my destiny. You won’t leave me, right?” Chase hugged me back, tight. And for the first time in ten years, Sebastian’s face went completely, utterly pale. 6 The day after the engagement was transferred to Chase, I sent my mother to Europe. Chase followed me. My father blew up my phone. The Chase family is garbage compared to the Sterlings! Get back here! I blocked him. He still thought he had leverage. I reactivated the Vesper account and forwarded the contract about the Sterling family corruption directly to Sebastian’s King of Spades handle. We had a history. He was the only person who could keep up with me. I used to think he was cool, until I realized he enjoyed the cruelty of giving targets false hope before crushing them. He replied instantly. [Thought you retired?] I tapped the screen. [Changed my mind. Too many big fish swimming in international waters. Also, do you want this Sterling job or not? You always steal my contracts, I’m gifting you this one.] He typed for a long time. @Observer: He’s panicking. He knows something’s up. Ten minutes later: [Why are you abroad?] I smirked. [Honeymooning with my new fiancé.] Chase had been keeping his distance from Sebastian, terrified his friend would realize he’d actually fallen for the girl he was supposed to trick. Sebastian switched to his personal number. Sienna, I heard about your family. We grew up together. Where are you? My mother wants to send a gift. He hadn’t texted me this much in a decade. Europe, I replied. With Chase. We’re very happy. He called. I let it ring. He texted again: Did you get married? I didn’t reply. I walked into the bedroom where Chase was passed out, snapped a photo of his sleeping face, filtered it to look soft and intimate, and posted it to my stories. Then I went out. The club in Ibiza was a sensory overload of bass and strobe lights. I moved to the rhythm, a circle of appreciative strangers forming around me. I felt a gaze. I turned. A phone camera was pointed at me. It was a mutual friend of Sebastian’s. I didn’t hide. I threw my head back, ran my hands through my hair, and dropped into a body roll—a signature move Vesper had once performed on a dare in a Macau casino. @DramaAlert: She’s off the leash! Sebastian is going to lose his mind when he sees that video. @FlightTracker: Pretty sure his private jet just filed a flight plan. I smiled. Finally. The iceberg was melting.

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The moment I succeeded in winning over the brooding male lead, I chose to exit the world. I didn’t hesitate for a second, not even when he begged me, broken and humbled, to stay. Later, back in the real world, my life fell apart. The System found me again. It offered me five million dollars to go back into the book and win him over one more time. Just as I was about to agree, a stream of comments flashed across my vision: “Holy crap, the ex who ditched Aidan is back.” “LOL, does she seriously think he’s still in love with her?” “The second ‘Tasker’ not only got his Darkness Value down to negative one hundred, but she also chose to stay, giving him the family he always wanted.” “The happy couple is about to get married. Can the ex-wife please have some self-respect and not bother them?” 1 It took me a long moment to process it. The “ex-wife” they were talking about… was me. Beside me, the System was still buzzing in my ear, trying to sell me on the deal. “All you have to do is make Aidan Sterling fall for you again, and you’ll get five million dollars. Even if you fail, you’ll get fifty thousand for your trouble. How about it? It’s a bargain, right?” It was a bargain. And right now, I desperately needed the money. But the comments echoed in my head. I stayed silent for a moment, then said I needed to think about it. So, the System decided to send me back into the book first. To be precise, it sent me back to the home Aidan and I once shared. The tiny apartment, old but filled with a familiar warmth, was exactly as I’d left it three years ago. Aidan hadn’t moved a single thing. Even the dress I’d accidentally stained just before I left was now hanging in the closet, clean and pristine, as if waiting for me. I remembered that dress. It was from a famous designer, all the rage at the time. When Aidan had secretly bought it for me, I’d chewed him out for spending so much money. He didn’t argue, just lowered his gaze, his long lashes shadowing his cheeks, and waited for my anger to fade. Then, he’d coaxed me, in that soft, gentle voice of his, to try it on. I looked down, the silky fabric cool against my fingers. I took a deep breath. If Aidan had truly forgotten me… then why was this apartment still here? I looked up again, my eyes scanning the small room. My gaze was suddenly caught by a white piece of paper taped to the window. A few large, scrawled words were visible through the glass. FOR SALE. PRICE NEGOTIABLE. URGENT. The sharp, decisive strokes were unmistakably Aidan’s. 2 A fresh wave of tiny text flooded my vision: “Hahaha, look at her face. The ex-wife is stunned. He wasn’t holding onto their past; he just hadn’t gotten around to selling the place.” “She really thought he still loved her like before. Plot twist: now that he has our sweet Sophie, he won’t even give his ex a second glance.” “The only reason the System brought her back is to create some drama for Aidan and Sophie. Get ready for some prime humiliation, folks.” I pressed my lips together. So that was it. The System was willing to offer five million because it was certain I would fail. Its real goal was to cast me as the villain, the obstacle in the main couple’s love story. He was getting my labor for a mere fifty thousand dollars. Fifty thousand. I laughed, a bitter, self-mocking sound. To play the fool for fifty grand… it wasn’t a small amount. It was enough to cover a week of treatment in the ICU. I summoned the System and coolly accepted the deal. The System was thrilled. It deposited a large sum of money into my account for expenses, though it could only be used within the book’s world. Since Aidan was so eager to sell this place, I might as well be the one to buy it. I clutched my phone, my fingers dialing a number I knew by heart. It rang for half a minute before someone picked up. A bright, clear female voice came through the line. “Hello? Who is this…?” I froze for a second, then glanced down to confirm the number. It was definitely Aidan’s. “Hi, I was passing by and saw the ‘For Sale’ sign in the window…” “You want to buy the apartment?” the person on the other end exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. “That’s wonderful! Finally, someone wants it.” I asked cautiously, “Are you the owner?” “I’m the owner’s girlfriend. You can just call me Sophie.” So, this was the second Tasker. As my mind went blank, a brief murmur of voices came from the other end of the line, like two people whispering. It felt like an eternity passed before someone picked up the phone again. Aidan’s cold, detached voice came through, sharp and clear. “Hello. Is it convenient to meet and discuss this in person?” 3 I waited in the coffee shop, a bundle of nerves. Finally, a sleek, understated luxury car pulled up to the curb. A picture-perfect couple stepped out. I hadn’t seen Aidan in three years, but he was just as striking as ever. The last traces of youthful uncertainty in his features had been replaced by the quiet confidence that comes with power and wealth. He leaned casually against the car door. Sophie said something that made him smile, and he reached out to gently ruffle her hair. From across the distance, his gaze drifted in my direction. It rested on me for a fraction of a second before moving on, as placid and undisturbed as a still lake. I was still lost in a daze when Sophie sat down in front of me. She offered me an apologetic smile. “My boyfriend had to run, he could only drop me off. I’ll be handling the details in his place.” I nodded, my voice genuine. “I can tell you two are very happy together.” Sophie’s smile deepened. “He runs a tech company. The net profit is in the nine-figure range every year. It’s not about the money from the apartment, you know? We just… don’t want to keep it around anymore.” Her tone was laced with a faint, unmissable sense of superiority. I nodded again and, following procedure, asked to see the apartment. Sophie paused, a flicker of awkwardness in her eyes. “I don’t have the keys. If you want to see it, my boyfriend will have to take you himself.” I blinked, confused. “He didn’t give you the keys before you came?” Logically, any property sale involved a viewing. Aidan couldn’t possibly be unaware of that. Sophie sighed, a hint of frustration in her smile. “I asked, but he wouldn’t give them to me. He’s never even taken me there.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “To be honest with you, this is the place he lived in with his ex-wife when he was just starting out. It just… gives me the creeps. That’s why I want it gone, and fast.” “Oh,” I said. “In that case, I don’t need to see it. We can just sign the contract.” Sophie’s face lit up. Afraid I’d change my mind, she immediately pulled out the sales agreement. But she didn’t have the deed, so we couldn’t transfer the title just yet. We’d still have to wait for Aidan. With time to kill, I looked at this woman, a fellow Tasker, just like me. My curiosity got the better of me. “How did you and he get together?” What I really wanted to know was how she had managed to win him over. The System had told me that after I left, Aidan had briefly relapsed into a second darkness. He’d attempted suicide, slit his wrists… his Darkness Value had skyrocketed to a level that threatened the stability of the entire world. Sophie had appeared at his side during that critical time. She not only lowered his Darkness Value but completely replaced me in his heart. Aidan was not an easy man to win over. She must have gone through hell. But Sophie just smiled brightly. “He had just been abandoned by his ex-wife and was completely heartbroken. I was just there for him, comforting him. It didn’t take long for us to make it official.” Was it really that simple? I could hardly believe it. Once again, the screen of my vision was flooded with mockery: “Hahaha, the ex-wife is having a meltdown. Aidan has zero resistance when it comes to our girl Sophie.” “Don’t forget, it took the ex ten whole years to win him over. She threw herself at him countless times before he finally, reluctantly, agreed to be with her.” “Sophie just had a few conversations with him, and all of the ex’s years of work went down the drain. That’s the power of true love, baby.” … I silently watched the jeering words scroll by. They were right. My journey with Aidan had been incredibly difficult. So difficult that I never wanted to live through it again. 4 Aidan’s parents never loved him. At a young age, they abandoned him in a psychiatric hospital, leaving him to the mercy of abusive orderlies. The place was filled with violent, unhinged patients, a veritable prison guarded like a fortress. Even with the System’s help, I nearly died getting him out of there. I took Aidan to a new city where no one knew us. I made sure he went to school, got an education, stayed on the right path. I even arranged for expensive therapy sessions every week. I did all of it hoping he would finally, completely, trust me. But Aidan was too smart. He effortlessly saw through the façade of this world, including my identity and my mission. After graduation, Aidan was the state’s top scholar. I threw a party to celebrate, overjoyed for him. But he quietly pulled me aside, his expression cold, a flicker of self-deprecation in his eyes. “You’re doing all this to win me over for your mission, aren’t you?” After the initial shock, I sighed, my voice catching. “I’m in love with you. That’s my mission.” Aidan scoffed, clearly unconvinced. My heart hammered in my chest. I pressed my head against his chest, my voice a small murmur. “Aidan, please, don’t get hung up on all that. These last few years… they’ve been so hard. You have to hurry up and make my life easier.” My voice broke. “I really, really love you. Please don’t question me like this again. It hurts too much.” … After college, Aidan started his own company. We moved into that tiny, rundown apartment. It had no heating in the winter. I was always cold, and my feet would get so numb they ached. Every night, Aidan would massage them for me, his eyes red with unshed tears, silent but full of pain for me. By then, we were married. His life goal had shifted from building a tech empire to destroy the world to the mundane task of making enough money to buy his wife a house. We hustled during the day and held each other in that small bed at night. I remember being harassed by an investor I was trying to win over; I didn’t dare tell Aidan, so I just walked the streets alone, crying. Another time, when a rival company came after us, I stood in front of Aidan without a second thought, taking the blow that sent me to the operating room. I don’t know how many times I went through things like that before Aidan slowly, painstakingly, fell in love with me. And compared to my decade-long effort, Sophie had done it in just three short weeks. She’d brought his Darkness Value down to negative one hundred and pushed his Affection Meter all the way to one hundred percent. 5 Sophie was still chattering on about the sweet little moments she shared with Aidan. She said it was love at first sight for him. I swallowed the lump in my throat and took a sip of my milkshake. “Has he… ever mentioned his ex-wife to you?” Sophie thought for a moment, then a triumphant smile spread across her face. “Never. I think he’s completely over her.” I nodded. It was better this way. I didn’t actually want to ruin their relationship. When Aidan showed up, I’d just act like I was full of regret, pathetically throwing myself at him. Given his personality, he’d probably be disgusted and push me away. Once he rejected me, I’d take my fifty thousand dollars and happily exit this world. As I was plotting, Sophie’s phone rang. Her face lit up. “My boyfriend’s meeting is over! He’s coming to pick me up. We have a date tonight, so let’s deal with the apartment tomorrow, okay?” I froze for a second, then forced a smile and a nod. “Okay, I’ll just be going then…” “Where do you live?” Sophie asked, grabbing my arm affectionately. “I’ll have my boyfriend give you a ride.” The smile on my face froze solid. Sophie was just too insistent. Before I knew it, the car door had clicked shut, and I was inside. The cool, clean scent of pine wood hung in the air. I could hear Sophie’s sweet, playful voice as she showed Aidan her new manicure. Aidan was sitting right in front of me. From my angle, I could see his hands on the steering wheel, his knuckles sharp and defined. He kept his eyes on the road, but he responded to her every word. I glanced at the rearview mirror, at the handsome lines of his face, and felt a wave of disorientation. Aidan had never been this patient with me. When we were together, he was always so insecure, so full of dread. He knew about my mission and was terrified I would leave at any moment. He’d wake up in the middle of the night, startled, his hand frantically searching for me on the other side of the bed. I would have to soothe him, again and again, exhausted. “I won’t leave you alone. I love you, and it has nothing to do with the mission.” I kept telling him that lie, right up until the moment I left. He had cried then, clutching my hand, begging me not to go. Begging me to stay just a little longer, just a few more years. I had sighed and refused every plea. His face had gone pale, his eyes swirling with a storm of pain and madness. “Why? Don’t you love me? How can you just leave me like this? You said you’d never leave me alone!” I gave him a bitter smile. “I have someone I love in the real world.” … Aidan’s eyes flickered up, catching my gaze in the mirror. He frowned. The car lurched forward with a sudden, violent screech of brakes. Caught off guard, my forehead slammed against the window with a dull thud, leaving a blooming bruise. “Sorry,” Aidan’s voice was raspy. He turned his head slightly. “We’re here.” It took me a moment to register. “Oh,” I said, managing a “thank you.” When I’d gotten in the car, Sophie had asked for my address, and I’d just blurted out the name of a random apartment complex. I arranged to meet Sophie next time and got out of the car. Aidan kept his eyes down, never once looking back at me. He didn’t linger for a moment; the car’s taillights vanished around the corner almost instantly. At the busy entrance to the complex, I wrapped my arms around myself and slowly sank to the ground. I don’t know how much time passed. Then, the familiar luxury car pulled up again, silent and imposing, right in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing the sharp, defined profile of his face. Aidan stared at me, his expression unreadable. “Get in.” 6 I’d expected Aidan to find a way to see me alone. I just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Too soon for me to prepare myself to face him. As we were locked in a stalemate, Aidan lifted a hand and lit a cigarette. I frowned instinctively. I hated it when he smoked. In the past, I would have snatched it from him without a word and stamped it out. And the Aidan back then was always so obedient. When I told him to quit, he never touched another one. He would never have been like this. He would never have sat there, shrouded in a pale haze of smoke, studying me so brazenly. I bit back my words, about to speak. The comments flooded my vision again: “What’s she hesitating for? Does she actually think he wants something from her?” “He’s known she was back for a while. He just didn’t say anything in the car because he didn’t want Sophie to get the wrong idea.” “The only reason he’s seeing her alone is to warn her not to run her mouth in front of Sophie. He couldn’t care less about her.” I stood rooted to the spot, the silence heavy around me. It was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. The impulsive flicker of emotion I’d felt a moment ago was extinguished completely. I had no right to tell him what to do anymore. The hand resting on the car window, pale and elegant, dropped lazily. Aidan expressionlessly averted his gaze. As if remembering something, he crushed the cigarette with a flicker of derision. “You want to buy the apartment, don’t you? Get in. I’ll take you to see it.” 7 The ride was silent. Aidan showed no intention of speaking. But my mind was a chaotic mess of scrolling text. “Well, at least she knows her place. She took the back seat, knowing the passenger seat is for the girlfriend.” “He’s supposed to be warning her, so why is he taking her to their old place?” “Don’t worry, guys. He doesn’t know her real plan yet. Once she shows her true colors, he’ll be even more disgusted with her.” … When we arrived at the door, I couldn’t help but speak. “Don’t you have anything… to ask me?” Aidan’s hand, holding the key, paused. He glanced down at me, a brow raised, silently waiting for me to continue. I mustered my courage. “Like why I came back. How long I’m staying. Or… why I want to buy this apartment.” “Not interested.” Aidan looked away, his tone flat. “I don’t care who buys it. I’m erasing everything that has to do with you. As for why you’re back…” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and let out what sounded like a humorless chuckle. “You’re not planning to try and win me over again, are you?” I was silent for a beat. “What if I am?”

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Twenty-four hours after returning to the city, an old friend dragged me to our college reunion. And there she was – Chloe Hamilton, my first love, appearing before me after five long years. Without warning, she produced a dazzling diamond ring and proposed before our entire class. The room erupted. Everyone watched expectantly, certain I’d say yes immediately. After all, hadn’t I been the one desperately chasing her, practically begging on my knees until she finally agreed to be mine? But they’d all forgotten. Forgotten how at graduation, Chloe had publicly accused me of plagiarizing my thesis – all for another man’s affection. Forgotten how she fabricated evidence, claiming I’d cheated on exams and bullied classmates. The university revoked my degree. They ejected me from the ceremony as hundreds of eyes burned into my back. That same day, I fled overseas. Now, back in the city I’d sworn never to return to, her best friend Sophie revealed the truth: “After you left, Chloe pulled every string. Used all her family’s influence to reinstate your diploma.” “She never stopped waiting, Caleb. You’ve always been the love of her life.” … “Caleb, are you even listening to me? I’m trying to tell you something!” Sophie, Chloe’s closest confidante, had practically glued herself to my side the moment I walked in, unleashing a torrent of words. Her expression was a mix of exasperation and something close to desperate pleading. Around the room, the gazes of our other classmates converged on me—a cocktail of curiosity, pity, and outright mockery. Honestly, hearing the name “Chloe Hamilton” again after five years felt eerily distant, almost unfamiliar. The fierce, all-consuming love I once held for her had long since been swallowed by the relentless current of time, drowning in the depths of a past I preferred to forget. Five years ago, I’d vanished without a trace, leaving the country. So, few in this city knew I’d built a new life, a new family, overseas. I honestly couldn’t tell if Sophie’s breathless monologue was born of her own conviction or if she was merely delivering a carefully rehearsed message. Frankly, it didn’t matter. I pressed my lips together, gathering my thoughts, before speaking in a low, measured tone. “Chloe and I are a closed chapter, Sophie. What you’re saying holds absolutely no meaning for me anymore.” Not just Sophie, but everyone in the room stared, eyes wide, as if I’d just announced I’d grown a second head. After all, I had pursued Chloe relentlessly, almost obsessively, for three whole years. My relentless campaign was so public it nearly put me on the dean’s radar. Rain or shine, I’d delivered her a warm breakfast and a fresh coffee every single morning. When her chronic stomach issues flared up, I once scoured every pharmacy in a snowstorm just to find a specific brand of antacid. Every time some clueless guy tried to confess his feelings for Chloe, I’d appear, practically materialize out of thin air, to stake my claim. When she dreamed of starting her own business but lacked the capital, I not only drained my entire college fund and savings but even sold the vintage watch my parents gave me for my eighteenth birthday. In places no one saw, I, who had never known hardship, lived on instant ramen and stale bread for an entire semester to make sure she had enough. Finally, after my relentless efforts, Chloe agreed to be my girlfriend. She played the role of the perfect girlfriend, attentive and sweet. She’d stand up for me, a fierce glint in her eyes, whenever someone dared to call me a ‘doormat’ or whisper about me being a ‘kept man.’ She’d even let me dream with her, sketching out our future together the day she signed her first big contract. I truly believed she was my soulmate, the woman I’d spend my entire life with. Until our senior year, when Dylan Hayes suddenly emerged. He was Chloe’s childhood friend, a ghost from her past who suddenly materialized, transferring into our very own class. At first, I didn’t think much of it. I even made an effort to be welcoming, to connect with him. But slowly, subtly, Chloe stopped seeking me out. Our calls grew shorter, our meetups less frequent. When I tried to make plans, she’d suddenly have a million excuses. On my birthday, she stood me up again. She told me she had an urgent business trip to a neighboring city. A knot of unease tightened in my stomach, so I discreetly went to her company. And there he was: Dylan. Surrounded by a circle of laughing employees, practically on a pedestal. Even more infuriating, some of them were openly calling him “the boss’s Prince Charming.” This, despite every single one of them knowing I was Chloe’s boyfriend. The woman who’d told me she was out of town – Chloe herself – stood among them, smiling serenely, not bothering to correct a single word. My heart felt like it was being systematically shredded. When Chloe finally spotted me, there wasn’t a trace of shame or guilt on her face. Only a cool, almost casual question. “What are you doing here?” She was my first love, the woman I’d envisioned spending my entire life with. I didn’t want conflict, not with her. So I spoke directly, pointing at Dylan. “Is your ‘business trip’ really just throwing a party with him in the office?” There was no anger in my voice, no accusation, just a quiet, almost desperate question. Chloe’s brow furrowed instantly, a flicker of impatience crossing her features. “Dylan’s just starting his internship here, I was just hosting a welcome party for him. Can you stop being so ridiculously jealous? Honestly, Caleb, it’s suffocating!” I froze, utterly stunned. I never imagined the woman who, just days ago, had been clinging to me, whispering ‘honey,’ would so ruthlessly criticize me in front of her entire staff. Perhaps my expression was too nakedly shocked, because a flicker of realization crossed Chloe’s face. A faint flush of panic spread across her cheeks as she quickly stammered an apology. “Caleb, I’m so sorry, I misspoke. That’s not what I meant.” My hands clenched into tight fists. I looked her dead in the eye and asked, each word a hammer blow. “Then what did you mean? And why did you lie about going on a business trip?” Chloe took my hand, her fingers intertwining with mine. “I wasn’t lying, honey. My plans did change suddenly, the client rescheduled, and I just hadn’t had a chance to tell you yet!” Her voice was so affectionate, so natural, that it chipped away at the wall of resentment I’d built. But the phantom echo of ‘Prince Charming’ still grated on my nerves. “Then why were your employees calling Dylan ‘the boss’s Prince Charming’?” “Oh, come on, Caleb, it’s just a silly office joke! Who here doesn’t know you, my big jealous bear, are my man?” As she spoke, she squeezed my palm, her thumb tracing patterns on my skin. “Honey, please don’t be mad, okay? It’s your birthday, after all. Tonight, I’ll take you somewhere special for dinner.” I was just about to warn Chloe against such ‘jokes’ in the future when Dylan suddenly rushed over, looking utterly distraught. Gone was his earlier meekness, replaced by an unmistakable swagger in his voice. “Mr. Caldwell, I am so, so sorry if I caused any trouble. If it really bothers you, I… I can just leave Chloe’s company and find an internship elsewhere. Anything, just please don’t let me cause arguments between you two.” His head hung low, his gaze fixed on the floor. Everyone else looked on, convinced I was some kind of arrogant bully. They dared not speak, but their eyes silently pleaded with Chloe. Seeing Dylan’s act, Chloe immediately let go of my hand and walked over to him. She spoke to him in soothing tones, her movements gentle and comforting. She didn’t stand me up that night; she really did take me out for dinner. But the food tasted like ash. Because even though she was sitting across from me, her words, every single one of them, were about Dylan. “Dylan and I grew up together, he’s practically my brother.” “His parents asked me to help him get an internship, so I brought him into my company.” “I was worried you’d overthink things, so I just… didn’t tell you.” “If there was truly something between us, we would have been together years ago, wouldn’t we?” “Caleb, I know how good you are to me. My heart and my eyes are only for you.” Chloe sounded so earnest, I found it hard to argue. I just nodded, a dull ache settling in my chest. She pulled out a pair of simple silver couple’s rings. She slipped the female one onto her own finger, then gently slid the male one onto my ring finger. “Caleb, with my current finances, this is all I can afford. I know it’s not much, it feels like I’m… underserving you.” She smiled, a hint of false sincerity in her eyes. “But I promise, when I make it big, I’ll put the most expensive ring in the world on your finger.” Looking at the girl nestled in my arms, and the ring glinting on my finger, the last of my unease finally began to dissipate. But she eventually broke that promise. After that night, Chloe stopped pretending. She and Dylan began openly moving around campus together. Whispers started circulating around campus, that Chloe had dumped me for Dylan. Before I could even trace the source of the rumors, Dylan himself showed up at my dorm. He’d shed his meek facade completely, now radiating an obnoxious arrogance. “Caleb, do you know what kind of man is truly pathetic? It’s a doormat like you!” he sneered. “Chloe wants me, not you. Do yourself a favor and back off gracefully!” My fists clenched at my sides, but I bit back a retort, refusing to engage with his provocations. But his eyes gleamed with a predatory certainty. “Since you’re so determined to delude yourself, I’ll be happy to help you see the truth.” After Dylan left, I immediately called Chloe, recounting everything. But to my utter disbelief, she didn’t believe me. Her voice, on the phone, was laced with an almost palpable impatience. “Caleb, I’ve already explained everything. There’s absolutely nothing going on between Dylan and me. Why are you constantly so suspicious? We grew up together, I know exactly what kind of person he is. Why would you try to slander him like this?” “I’m slandering him?” My voice rose sharply. The line went silent for a moment, thick with unspoken accusation. “Chloe, is that truly how you see me? As someone so vile?” The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Finally, she spoke again. “If you really dislike it that much, I’ll make sure Dylan leaves as soon as his internship is over.” Her voice dropped, growing weary. “But Caleb, I’m already so stressed with the company. Even if you can’t help me, please don’t add to my problems right now. You’re making things so much harder.” She paused, a tired sigh escaping her. “And you’re busy with your final thesis, right? Let’s just… not see each other for a while. Let’s both cool off. We can talk properly after graduation.” With that, she hung up, leaving only a chilling dial tone in my ear. She’d rather believe I was slandering Dylan than accept he was capable of such words. That was the first time I truly felt Chloe wasn’t worth my devotion. And the first time we truly had a cold war. Chloe was true to her word. For the next month, I didn’t reach out to her, and she didn’t contact me either. Even when we passed each other on campus, she’d look right through me, as if I were a ghost. Until graduation day. I was just about to accept my cap and gown from my advisor when the department head suddenly appeared. Right there, in front of all the students and faculty, he asked, “Mr. Caldwell, your thesis and Mr. Hayes’s thesis are identical. Who copied whom?” I stared at the department head, my mind reeling. “Dean, that’s impossible. I wrote my thesis myself!” Dylan, conveniently, appeared beside the dean at that moment, quickly proclaiming his innocence. “Dean, I didn’t copy anyone. Every single word of my thesis is my own! If you don’t believe me, ask Chloe. She can vouch for me!” Suddenly, every eye in the room swiveled to Chloe. My own gaze was fixed on her. But Chloe just… avoided my gaze. At that moment, if I hadn’t understood what was happening, I’d be truly, irredeemably dense. I’d habitually saved all my thesis drafts and important research to a shared cloud drive that Chloe and I used. So, the question of who gave my thesis to Dylan was instantly, sickeningly clear. The dean’s scrutinizing gaze landed on Chloe. Chloe took a shaky breath, then spoke to the dean. “Dean, Dylan is interning at my company right now. I’ve personally seen him burning the midnight oil, working on his thesis.” With Chloe’s testimony, the identity of the plagiarist became undeniably clear: it was me. Under the searing, contemptuous gazes of everyone present, I walked up to Chloe, looking her straight in the eye, and asked, each word deliberate and measured. “Chloe, are you saying my thesis is plagiarized from Dylan’s?” I saw the flicker of hesitation, the internal struggle in her eyes. But I waited, and waited, and all I got was a single, devastating sentence. “I only know that Dylan wrote his own thesis.” Hearing that, I actually laughed out loud. This was the woman I had poured my heart and soul into loving for four long years. If I could, I’d have walked right then and there to the nearest ophthalmologist and paid them whatever it took to cure my inexplicable blindness. Seeing my expression, a fleeting flicker of something – perhaps regret – crossed Chloe’s face. She was about to say something when Dylan, quick as a viper, cut her off. “Mr. Caldwell, I know you’re Chloe’s boyfriend, but you can’t force her to commit perjury for you! I know you don’t like me. You always picked on me, bullied me. You even tried to force me to give you exam answers! And when I refused, you sent thugs after me to beat me up!” As he spoke, he dramatically rolled up his sleeves, revealing a network of angry-looking bruises and purpling marks. “If Chloe hadn’t shown up that day, I probably would have been seriously hurt by those thugs.” Hearing Dylan’s outlandish accusations, I honestly wondered if my ears had malfunctioned. Every word he uttered was in English, yet strung together, they made absolutely no sense. Bullying him? Cheating off his exams? Sending thugs after him? “Dylan, if you’re suffering from paranoid delusions, I suggest you see a doctor. But don’t you dare try to drag me into your twisted fantasy!” Before Dylan could retort, Chloe suddenly snapped, “Enough!” She looked at me, and in her eyes, there was no trace of guilt, only a burning anger and undisguised disgust. “Those thugs already confessed, Caleb. They admitted you paid them to go after Dylan! Caleb, I never thought you could be so cruel, so utterly malicious! He’s barely stepped out of this academic bubble, and you’ve already made him endure something like this!” I stood there, frozen, and after a long moment, my voice came out barely a whisper. “Chloe, so you’d rather believe Dylan and a couple of hired thugs than believe me?” Chloe was silent for a long moment, then she said, her voice strained, “I only believe what I see with my own eyes.” I stood there, utterly numb, my heart rattling in my chest. All I could hear was the chorus of contempt and mockery aimed squarely at me. The department head, seething with rage, practically roared. “I never imagined such a despicable student would emerge from my department! You have clearly not met the standards for graduation! You will not participate in this graduation ceremony. As for your disciplinary action, I will report it to the university and you will be notified. Now, leave!” I ignored the dean, my gaze locked on Chloe’s. But she averted her eyes, a frown creasing her brow, and spoke in a low, exasperated tone. “Caleb, just go back. Don’t make a scene here, don’t disturb the other students’ graduation! As for us, we’ll talk about it privately later!” I stood there, humiliated, my voice trembling as I asked, “Chloe, are you sure you won’t regret doing this to me?” But Chloe didn’t respond. She simply turned and walked away with Dylan, leaving me standing there alone. From that moment on, I became the university’s laughingstock. My former friends, once close, now avoided me like the plague. My heart felt utterly hollow. I bought a one-way ticket to join my parents, who had been living abroad for years. Before boarding the flight, I slipped the ring off my finger, the one she’d given me, and mailed it back to her. My memories faded, and I focused back on Sophie and the curious faces around the table. “If this is all you brought me here to talk about, then I’ll be taking my leave now.” But Sophie immediately moved to block my exit, her voice frantic. “Caleb, wait! Chloe’s on her way, just let her speak to you herself!” My brow furrowed. “I don’t think there’s anything left to say between us. Besides, I’m married.”

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1 On my eighteenth birthday, my stepbrother coaxed me into crossing a line we could never uncross. He whispered promises against my skin, swore that he would take responsibility, that he would love me for a lifetime. In a haze of pain and adoration, I gave him everything. I foolishly thought I had finally caught happiness in my hands. Then came the morning after. My nude photos were plastered across every group chat in our prep school. They called me the “Fifty-Dollar Fix.” A slut. A charity case with loose legs. I went manic. I hunted Hayes down, screaming, needing to know why. He just watched me unravel. He stood there with the detached curiosity of a scientist observing an insect, his expression curdled with disgust. “Because of you, Lily is dead,” he said, his voice flat. “This is your penance.” Lily was his biological sister. And I was the reason she was in the ground. 2 The photos spread like a virus. By second period, everyone had seen them. I found Hayes in the student lounge. I was hyperventilating, my mind a fractured kaleidoscope of panic and confusion. “Hayes, please,” I choked out. “Tell me this is a mistake. Tell me…” “Don’t say my name,” he cut in. The warmth from last night—the heat of his body, the tenderness—was gone, replaced by a glacial hatred. “You don’t deserve to speak it.” He stepped closer, looming over me. “If it wasn’t for you—if your mother hadn’t clawed her way into my father’s house—Lily would still be here. Every time I look at you, I see the life she didn’t get to live. Why do you get to breathe when she’s rotting in a box?” He grabbed my chin, his fingers digging into my jaw with bruising force, forcing me to look at him. “You’re the one who should be dead, Raine.” I stared into his eyes—eyes that, just hours ago, had looked at me with what I thought was love. I remembered his heavy breathing, the way he’d buried his face in my neck and whispered, Raine, I love you. I’ve got you. Was it all a lie? A performance? Tears spilled over, hot and humiliating, landing on his cold hand. He flinched, his grip loosening just a fraction. “Hayes…” I whispered, grabbing the hem of his cashmere sweater like a lifeline. “Did you ever love me? Even a little?” The silence that followed was suffocating. He studied me, dissecting my misery. “No,” he finally said. “Every second I touched you, I felt sick.” The air left my lungs. It was a long con. A meticulously crafted execution. I was the only one who had fallen. “I see,” I managed to say, my voice breaking. “I’m sorry.” He released me abruptly. I collapsed onto the floor, my legs giving out. “Stop acting like a victim, Raine,” he sneered, turning his back on me. “Your real punishment hasn’t even started yet.” He walked away fast, almost as if he were running. I wiped my face, sitting alone in the middle of the hallway. Do you hate me that much, Hayes? I owed Lily a life. If I gave him mine, would that finally balance the ledger? 3 I was seven when I first walked into the Ashcroft estate. I trailed behind my mother, terrified to scuff the marble floors. It looked like a museum, not a home. “Hah.” I looked up to the mezzanine. A boy stood there, looking like a dark prince in a black turtleneck. He was beautiful and terrifying. “So this is the mistress and her baggage,” he said, his voice dripping with aristocratic disdain. “Dad really scraped the bottom of the barrel.” My mother went pale. I just stared at my shoes, wishing my hair was long enough to hide my face. “Hayes! Don’t be mean!” A girl in a velvet dress burst out from behind him, beaming like a little sun. “I’m Lily,” she chirped, running down the stairs. “That’s my brother, Hayes. He’s grumpy. What’s your name?” I tugged at my fraying sweater. “Raine,” I whispered. She grabbed my hand and dragged me up to the boy. “Hayes, say hi to Raine. Be nice.” Hayes looked at his sister with a softness that transformed his entire face. He sighed, defeated by her joy, and extended a hand to me. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have said that.” “It’s okay,” I said. His palm was warm. It made my heart race. With Lily as the bridge, the ice between us melted. Hayes wasn’t just cold; he was protective, intense, and secretly kind. He took us to the coast in the summers. He planted camellias in the garden because I said I liked them. On my birthdays, he arranged fireworks over the bay. I fell in love with him in slow motion, over a decade of stolen glances. Lily knew. She was my biggest cheerleader. “He loves you too, Raine,” she’d whispered, winking. “I’m going to set the stage. You just get dressed up. We’re going to surprise him.” She skipped out the door to buy roses for my confession. She never came back. The police call came two hours later. They found her in an alley three blocks away. She had been assaulted, brutalized, and discarded. Red rose petals were scattered over her body like blood. At the funeral, Hayes didn’t cry. He just vibrated with rage. When he finally looked at me, something in him had died. “Why was she alone?” he asked. “Why was she buying roses?” “Because I wanted them,” I sobbed, falling apart. “It’s my fault. I’m so sorry, Hayes.” He stared at me for a long time. Then he asked the question that would haunt us both forever. “Why wasn’t it you?” 4 The school bulletin boards were covered in screenshots. My naked body, printed on glossy paper. People whispered as I walked by. Teachers looked at me with that pitying disappointment that hurts worse than anger. The scholarship kid showed her true colors, their eyes said. I walked to my locker like a zombie. If this humiliation was the tax I had to pay for Lily’s death, I would pay it. My locker was vandalized in red marker: Slut. Trash. Try-hard. When I opened it, the smell hit me first. Garbage. Used condoms. Before I could react, a dead, bloody rat fell out, landing in my hair. I screamed, stumbling back and falling hard. Laughter erupted around me. “Look at her,” someone jeered. “God, she’s pathetic.” “I heard fifty bucks gets you the full tour,” Trent, the captain of the lacrosse team, sneered. He walked up to me, crouched down, and shoved a hundred-dollar bill down my shirt. “Here’s a hundo. Double time tonight?” Rage, hot and blinding, surged through me. I slapped him. Hard. The hallway went silent. Trent’s face twisted. He shoved me backward, and my head cracked against the corner of a trophy case. Warm blood trickled down my neck. “You ungrateful bitch,” he spat. He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me toward the boys’ bathroom. He ripped my shirt. I closed my eyes, waiting for the end. “Hayes?” Trent’s voice wavered. “What are you doing here?” I opened my eyes. Hayes was standing there, watching. He looked bored. “Disgusting,” he said. The word pierced me deeper than any knife. “Carry on,” Hayes said, waving a hand dismissively. He turned to leave. “Hayes!” I screamed, crawling toward him, grabbing his ankle. “Please. Help me. Take me with you.” He looked down at me, his eyes devoid of humanity. “I bet Lily wanted someone to take her away, too,” he said softly. “This is what you owe her, Raine. Feel what she felt.” He kicked his leg free and walked away. I collapsed on the dirty tile floor, sobbing until my chest felt like it would cave in. Even Trent stopped, looking unnerved by the sheer depth of my brokenness. I hallucinated Lily holding my hand, Hayes smiling at us. But it was just smoke.

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1 The moment Caleb Stone instinctively mixed the noodles for me, I asked for a divorce. His hand, mid-stir, paused abruptly. “Why?” he demanded, his voice thick with disbelief. “I told you before, Stella and I have nothing going on!” I looked at the perfectly mixed bowl of noodles, a faint, bitter smile touching my lips. “Caleb, we’ve been together for eight years. You’ve never once mixed my noodles for me.” Caleb’s hand, still clutching the chopsticks, froze. After a long silence, he spoke, his voice strained, trying to explain. “Ava, I just…” “You just got used to doing these little things for her. You got used to me always accommodating her.” I curved my lips, my voice eerily calm. “But Caleb, I’m not used to it. I deserve a genuine, complete love.” I was dragging my suitcase, just about to step past the villa’s grand entrance, when Caleb grabbed my arm. “Ava…” I turned to him. His lips trembled, words caught in his throat. “Stella isn’t feeling well. She wants your special soup.” Caleb suffered from stomach issues, and this soup was a recipe I’d gotten from a renowned holistic healer. To learn that recipe, I’d turned down an invitation to join a prestigious research expedition, spending a full month working as an assistant at the clinic. Eight years we’d been together, and Caleb had never even wiped a spilled drop of water from the table. Yet now, he was begging for this soup for Stella. Meeting my reddened eyes, Caleb shifted his gaze, looking away. “Make it one more time. I’ll let you go back to the research team.” He looked at me with an air of condescension, as if he’d forgotten why I’d left the team in the first place—Stella had wanted to join a polar expedition tourist group but couldn’t get a spot, so Caleb canceled my opportunity for a polar research trip. While they stood close, watching the aurora borealis in the snow, I received my dismissal notice from the research team. “Fine.” I took a deep breath, turning and walking into the kitchen. The soup was ready. I was just about to hand it to him when a gasp echoed from the master bedroom. It was supposed to be Caleb’s and my marital bedroom, but now he and Stella shared it. Caleb’s outstretched hand snapped back, and he rushed into the master bedroom. He accidentally knocked over the steaming bowl of soup, scalding liquid splashing all over me. My exposed skin instantly flushed crimson. I bit back a cry, dousing myself with cold water, but painful blisters still rose in angry patches. I was just picking up my suitcase, wincing in pain, when Caleb emerged from the master bedroom, cradling Stella in his arms, his face contorted in anger. He carefully settled Stella onto the sofa, then thoughtfully draped a blanket over her. Then, his face grim, he strode towards me. I instinctively reached for the door, wanting to escape, but he clamped down on my wrist. He squeezed hard on the scalded blisters, the searing pain almost making me black out. “You know Stella is allergic to pollen! Why didn’t you clean the room after she opened the window?!” “I didn’t…” Before I could finish, Caleb dragged me into the master bedroom. The movement burst the blisters on my wrist, yellowish pus mixing with blood seeping out, staining my white dress. Caleb shoved me to the floor. My knees hit the rough wooden floorboards, the coarse material scraping against my burns. I trembled uncontrollably from the pain. He saw the angry blisters on my hand, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, but then he glanced at the red spots on Stella’s wrist and spoke. “You’ll kneel here and clean this bedroom thoroughly. Don’t leave until there isn’t a single trace of pollen.” Ever since Stella arrived, cleaning the master bedroom had become my duty. Even though we had a full-time housekeeper, Caleb assigned this task to me simply because Stella claimed, “no one else cleans properly.” The bedroom had hardwood floors, and I was expected to kneel and meticulously wipe every inch with a rag. The dirty water in the bucket stung my skin, bringing waves of agonizing pain. Once the entire room was spotless, I finally stood, looking at Caleb with a vacant expression. “Is that enough?” Gazing at the increasingly grotesque burns on my hand, Caleb shifted his eyes. “Ava Hayes, it was clearly your negligence that caused Stella’s allergic reaction. Why are you putting on this show?” “We’re already divorced. You’re the one who asked for it!” I nodded, pulling my suitcase, intending to leave, when I bumped into our hurried family doctor. She saw me and gasped. “Mrs. Stone, your burns are so severe, you need immediate medical attention! Let me treat you first!” Before she could even set down her medical bag, Caleb pulled her towards Stella. “She’s the patient.” The doctor looked incredulously at Stella, who only had a mild allergic reaction, then at my severely burned self. She could only lower her head and examine Stella. As everyone gathered around Stella, I quickly opened the door and slipped away. 2 I endured the searing pain, walking for what felt like an eternity before finally exiting the villa community. The ambulance I had called was already waiting at the entrance. Seeing the paramedics, the intense pain finally overwhelmed me, and I passed out. When I woke again, the burns were neatly bandaged. Caleb was sitting on the sofa, engrossed in paperwork. A young nurse, changing my IV bag, whispered, “That must be your husband. He’s been here watching over you for two days straight.” After the nurse left, Caleb set down his papers and came to my bedside, offering me a bowl of hot soup. “Try this. I specifically ordered it for you.” It was takeout from that upscale restaurant he frequented. But I’d just seen Stella’s social media post, a photo of Caleb himself cooking soup for her. Seeing I didn’t take the bowl, he didn’t get angry. He placed the soup on the table and spoke. “Stella’s condition can’t be delayed any longer. Since you’re awake, we’ll begin the bone marrow transplant this afternoon.” With his words, a team of doctors streamed into the room. Before the operating room doors closed, I overheard the doctors’ conversation with Caleb: “Mr. Stone, Mrs. Hayes is not in optimal condition for a marrow donation, and she’s also injured. Extracting bone marrow now could cause organ damage. Ms. Reed’s condition is currently stable; we can certainly wait until Mrs. Hayes recovers before proceeding…” Before the doctor could finish, Caleb cut him off, his voice cold. “Stella suffers more with each day without the transplant. I can’t bear to see her in such pain. As for Ava, I’ll compensate her later.” Through the crack in the door, I saw the complete absence of love in his eyes. I closed mine, and a tidal wave of suppressed pain and humiliation washed over me. The cold anesthetic flowed into my veins. Caleb watched me, utterly oblivious to my immunity to anesthesia. The thick needle pierced my spine. The excruciating pain of the bone marrow aspiration made my entire body spasm. I tried to speak, to tell them the anesthetic wasn’t working, but a nurse beside me clamped her hand over my mouth. I bit down hard on the soft flesh inside my cheek, tasting blood as it trickled from the corner of my lips. Caleb approached, his voice laced with false reassurance. “I told the doctor to increase the anesthetic dosage. You won’t feel anything.” I gritted my teeth, closing my eyes, refusing to look at him anymore. Three years ago, when I underwent a D&C after a miscarriage, I told him I was immune to anesthesia. Back then, he held me, his eyes red-rimmed, promising he’d never let me be hurt again. But now, all my injuries were his doing. Stella, lying on the other bed, let out a soft murmur. Caleb quickly strode over, barking, “Where’s the anesthesiologist? Didn’t Stella get an anesthetic? Why is she still reacting?” The doctor, beads of sweat on his brow, explained to Caleb that it was a normal reaction after anesthesia, but Caleb remained unconvinced. “Stop the surgery for now. Go find the best anesthesiologist in the city.” “Mr. Stone, the bone marrow has already been extracted. If we don’t proceed quickly, we’ll have to perform a second extraction.” Seeing my pale face, Caleb hesitated for two seconds. But his concern for Stella quickly overcame that brief flicker of doubt. “Stella is afraid of pain. Ava is fine since she had the anesthetic.” I closed my eyes, my emotions draining away, leaving only a hollow ache. The doctor tried to say something more, but Caleb cut him off. “I hired you to ensure Stella’s safety. You don’t need to concern yourselves with anything else.” An hour later, the assistant arrived in the operating room with a new anesthesiologist. The thick needle plunged into my body once more. This time, under the immense pain, I completely lost consciousness. 3 When I woke again, the vast hospital room was empty save for me. I forced myself to reach for my phone. An invitation to join the research team had arrived. I quickly scanned it, then signed my name. This was a top-secret national research team. A long time ago, I had turned down their offer for Caleb’s sake. But I never imagined that, in the end, they would be the ones to embrace me. Seeing the flight details for three days later on my phone, I finally allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief. Caleb walked in with a meal tray just as I put my phone down. Seeing my movements, he casually asked, “What are you doing?” I smoothed the smile from my face, tucking my phone further away, my voice flat. “Nothing.” Caleb looked at the woman who had been expressionless since he walked in, a flicker of unease stirring within him. He placed the food on the table, about to speak, when Stella’s special ringtone chimed. “Caleb, didn’t you say you’d come help me pick out rings? Where are you?” After hanging up, Caleb left without a backward glance. “I have things to take care of today. I’ll pick you up when you’re fully recovered.” But he never showed up, not even on the day I was discharged. Ever since Stella came into his life, “busy” became his constant excuse. Busy taking care of a sick Stella, busy taking Stella out. All his time was devoted to Stella, leaving me with only his retreating back, time and again. But this time, I wouldn’t wait for him anymore. During my hospital stay, only a single nurse’s aide cared for me. At lunchtime, when she brought me my meal, she spoke enviously of Stella, who was on the same floor. “I heard her husband paid a high price to have her room redecorated by a designer during her surgery because she couldn’t stand the regular rooms. And he personally cooks every meal for her after consulting with a nutritionist.” “They say her husband is a CEO, always so busy, yet he still insists on visiting her three times a day and staying with her every night.” I ate the hospital meal, tasteless and bland, suddenly recalling that I had never been cared for by him with such devotion. Three years ago, my research team was caught in an accident, buried under an avalanche. Before hypothermia set in, I used my last ounce of consciousness to call Caleb. But his first words were a complaint, accusing me of interrupting his time watching fireworks with Stella. After being rescued by border patrol, I saw a video Stella had sent me: Caleb kneeling, gently rubbing her ankle after she’d supposedly twisted it. I ignored Stella’s gloating, blocking her number directly. When I returned home, Caleb stood before me, Stella wrapped in his arms, her eyes red-rimmed. Disregarding my frostbitten skin, he dragged me from my bed to the floor, forcing me to kneel and apologize to Stella. He only released me when a passing nurse discovered my reopened wounds. As he left with Stella, his face was grim. “Stella isn’t well. Can’t you be more understanding? If you upset her again, you and your sick mother can get out of my house.” Shaking off the memories, I finished the food in the box. This unpalatable meal was the last I would ever eat. 4 On my discharge day, I ran into Caleb and Stella while handling the paperwork. I was about to walk away when Stella smiled and approached. “Oh, Sister Ava is here too! Caleb, you’re so thoughtless, not telling me Sister was in the hospital. Otherwise, I would have visited every day.” Caleb’s face was cold. “Don’t you have legs? Couldn’t you come find me yourself?” I lowered my eyes, instinctively murmuring, “I’m sorry.” A flicker of surprise crossed Caleb’s face. He seemed a little unconvinced by my easy apology, and his tone softened. “I’ll drive you home later.” I could barely believe what I heard. After all, since our marriage, I had almost never ridden in his car, because he had promised Stella that his car was exclusively hers. Stella’s expression changed, but she quickly recovered, linking her arm through Caleb’s. “I told you to visit Sister Ava, but you insisted on accompanying me to that research team lecture.” “I’m so sorry, Sister Ava. Caleb will drive you home later.” Caleb’s gaze flickered. He was about to agree, but then saw me pull my arm from Stella’s grasp and shake my head. “No, thank you. I can take a cab myself.” But Stella ignored my refusal, forcefully pulling me into the car. “Don’t be shy, Sister Ava. Come to the lecture with us. I remember you used to be a team leader for a research expedition.” I was pushed into the back seat, and Stella naturally took the passenger seat. Seeing her settled, Caleb instinctively leaned over to fasten her seatbelt. In the past, seeing him so intimate with Stella would have caused me to make a scene, but now I was so calm, it seemed to stir a strange displeasure in Caleb. I followed them into the auditorium. As we took our seats, I instinctively sat next to Caleb, but Stella bit her lip, hesitating to sit. “Sister Ava, I’m so sorry, I only managed to get two seats together. The other one is in the back row.” She started to leave, but Caleb grabbed her arm. Caleb turned to me and ordered, “You go sit in the back.” I didn’t question, didn’t argue. I quietly got up and moved to the back row. I sat there, watching them whisper intimately, his head close to hers. The auditorium’s air conditioning was blasting, and my heart chilled, inch by inch. Halfway through the lecture, I got up and went to the restroom. As I left the restroom, I saw a small good luck charm dangling from Stella’s finger. I had personally gone to the mountains to get that charm for my mother when she was sick, hoping it would keep her safe. But now, it hung precariously from Stella’s fingertip. She looked at me, a smirk playing on her lips. “Ava Hayes, Caleb specifically got this from your mom, he said it was to protect me. The day your mother died, he wasn’t there because he’d just gotten this charm and rushed to bring it to me. Good thing Caleb gave it to me before your mom died, otherwise, it would have been bad luck for a dead person to wear it, right?” I snapped. I lunged, snatching the charm, and clamped my hand around her throat. As we struggled, a piercing alarm suddenly blared overhead, followed by a violent explosion. The crowd in the hall erupted in chaos, everyone scrambling, pushing desperately towards the exit. My body, fresh out of the hospital, was still weak. I was quickly knocked down by the surging crowd, forcing me to curl up against the wall. Then, I saw Caleb moving against the tide of people, walking towards us. “Ava! Ava!” His voice was anxious, and a flicker of hope ignited within me. But he saw Stella first. He pulled Stella into his arms, shielding her completely. The crowd surged around us. He turned his head and glanced at me, instinctively reaching out his hand. Stella coughed softly, and he immediately withdrew his hand, striding away with her. I watched him walk away, holding Stella, and remembered something from many years ago. He sat opposite me, his eyes bright as he watched me eat. Seeing me eat slowly, he’d anxiously asked if the food wasn’t to my liking. I quietly told him it was because of poverty, my teeth had always been bad. He had suddenly gotten teary-eyed and apologized. “I’m sorry, you’ve worked so hard all these years.” The two figures, past and present, merged into one. My nose stung. I silently bid farewell to the boy he once was. Three hours later, the man who had finally managed to soothe a terrified Stella remembered me, the one he had abandoned. But he searched through all the rescued injured, and I was nowhere to be found. In a black SUV, clutching the good luck charm, I repeatedly hung up on Caleb’s calls. Before I turned in my phone, I received a text from Caleb. 【Stella isn’t feeling well. Come to the hospital to stay with her and get yourself checked out too.】 I didn’t reply. I simply handed my phone to the person beside me. “Please dispose of this for me. I don’t need it anymore.” Caleb, you and your meager love, I want neither.

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1 It was the first day of the SATs, and Amy, my girlfriend, was holding the entire class hostage, refusing to let anyone leave for the testing center. They were all waiting for Brandon, her childhood friend, who was still nowhere to be found. Less than an hour remained before the exam was set to begin. If we dallied any longer, everyone would undoubtedly miss the test. In my past life, as the class president, I’d tried to be helpful. I’d urged everyone to head out, to save their futures. Instead, I was met with a tidal wave of accusations: “You’re just jealous of Brandon and Amy’s closeness, that’s why you’re trying to ditch him and make him miss the exam!” It was pouring rain that day, and I’d pleaded with them for ten agonizing minutes before they reluctantly agreed to move. We’d ended up bursting into the exam hall in the very last second. After the SATs, Brandon had pushed me from a high point, leaving me battered and broken. And Amy? She and the entire class had stood before the police, swearing to a lie: “Elliot Carter felt so guilty about Brandon missing the SATs that he took his own life!” Brandon, riding a wave of manufactured sympathy, had transformed himself into a massive online personality. My mom, trying to fight for justice, was cyberbullied relentlessly by a clueless mob of netizens. Dazed and distraught, she’d driven off a treacherous mountain road, her life tragically ended. Only after my death did I realize it was all Brandon’s calculated plot. Now, I’m back. Reborn to that very day when Amy was leading the class in waiting for Brandon. This time, I swore, I wouldn’t interfere. Let these ungrateful fools dig their own graves! The chilling sting of rain on my face jolted me from a haze of memory. I found myself standing on the school’s sprawling track. My gaze fixed on Amy, who was currently locked in a heated argument with the school bus driver. A familiar ripple of unease stirred within me. Suddenly, Amy’s eyes blazed, snapping directly to mine. “Elliot Carter, you are utterly selfish! Brandon isn’t here yet. What’s two more minutes?” The rest of the class echoed her fury, their faces contorted with indignation. “Yeah, Brandon’s our friend! How can we just leave him behind?” “If B-man isn’t here, none of us are getting on that bus today!” Their hostile glares pierced me, twisting a raw pain in my chest. In my previous life, I’d worried that waiting would make them miss the exam, so I’d begged the driver to leave. I’d considered their future, and they’d treated me like the enemy. Amy pushed through the crowd, stopping in front of me. Her face contorted with disgust. “Elliot, even if you are my boyfriend, I have to say, this is too much! This is the SATs! Making him miss one section is basically ruining his life!” I clenched my fists, biting down hard on my lip until I tasted blood, watching the sheer loathing in her eyes. It was as if she wished me dead. Finally, I managed to smooth my expression. “Fine. If you all want to gamble your futures on Brandon, then keep waiting. It’s coming down hard out here. I’m getting on the bus.” I ignored their glares, the kind that promised to tear me limb from limb, and walked directly onto the school-provided exam shuttle. The driver looked at me, a worried frown etched on his face. “With my years of experience, a rain this heavy, if we wait any longer, something’s bound to go wrong!” Amy’s cold laugh cut him off. “Don’t be dramatic. I take that road to the testing center all the time. There’s no way it’ll be an issue!” The driver sighed, slumping back into his seat. My classmates, meanwhile, cheered and celebrated in the rain as if they’d just won a major victory. But what they didn’t know was that I’d already secured guaranteed admission to a top-tier university two months ago. Whether I made it to the SATs on time or not was irrelevant to my future. I’d only chosen to join them to experience the atmosphere. I wondered, though, if they’d still be smiling an hour from now, without the luxury of early admission. My eyes stung, and my hand trembled as I dialed my mom’s number. Memories of my past life flashed before me: being thrown from that height, my mom’s car plunging off a cliff, her life tragically ended. Tears streamed down my face. This time, I would make these ungrateful fools pay for their terrible choices! I’d make them realize just how incredibly foolish their actions were! Time ticked by, agonizingly slow. Fifteen minutes later, Brandon finally arrived, breathless, clutching his backpack. It was only a five-minute walk from the boys’ dorm to the track, but he’d managed to conjure up a performance of utter exhaustion. Though a flicker of surprise crossed his face at finding everyone still there, it quickly vanished, replaced by a wide grin. “I knew it! I knew you guys wouldn’t abandon me!” As my classmates watched him with eager eyes, he shot me a venomous glare. Amy looked at Brandon, her gaze softening. “Brandon, don’t worry! We’ll always wait for you, no matter what!” Then, my phone buzzed. A news alert popped up, and a faint smile touched my lips. Breaking News: Due to overnight heavy rain, the road from the school to the testing center is completely flooded! 2 In my last life, it was precisely because I discovered the road was severely flooded that I had so desperately pleaded with everyone to leave on time. Even then, we’d barely made it, rushing into the exam hall just in the nick of time. Now, without my warning, they were departing a full five minutes later. For them to make it to the SATs smoothly, it would take a miracle. Once we were on the bus, Brandon, feigning remorse, offered me a lollipop. “Class President, I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault! I just thought everyone might be nervous about the exam, so I took it upon myself to buy lollipops for everyone before we left.” Before I could even open my mouth, Amy snatched the lollipop away. She wrapped her arms around Brandon, consoling him, “Brandon, you didn’t do anything wrong, why are you apologizing? Selfish people like him don’t deserve anything you buy!” The rest of the class chimed in, echoing her sentiments: “Yeah, Brandon, don’t blame yourself. We all chose to wait for you.” “Just a few minutes delay, no big deal. You’re always thinking of us, and we’ll remember your kindness forever! We’re not cold-hearted like some people!” A cold smirk touched my lips as I listened to their thinly veiled taunts. Oh, this was just perfect! I wondered if they’d still be so nonchalant, so dismissive of a few minutes, in about half an hour. Brandon’s single lollipop had just bought away the most precious fifteen minutes of their lives. That instant of sugary sweetness was destined to brew a hundred, a thousand times the bitterness for them. They munched on their lollipops, singing along to the radio, treating the SATs like some grand spring picnic. But soon, some of them started to notice that something was off. The traffic outside was growing denser, and the bus was crawling at an increasingly sluggish pace. “Latest update,” the bus driver announced, his voice heavy with dread. “There’s severe flooding ahead. The road’s blocked. We’ll have to take a detour. We might be late.” The previously boisterous bus fell into an immediate, deafening silence. Amy’s face went ashen with disbelief. “No way… Absolutely impossible! How can this road be blocked?” Panic gripped everyone instantly. “What are we going to do? If I miss the SATs, my entire life is over!” “You’re the driver! Do something! I can’t be late!” The driver shook his head helplessly. “To get to the testing center fastest, we’d need to find another mode of transport and go directly through the flooded areas.” I watched everything unfold with cold detachment. In my previous life, when my mom heard they were stuck, she’d immediately mobilized over a dozen large construction vehicles from her company nearby and successfully transported everyone to the testing center. But these people, far from being grateful, had spread malicious rumors online, claiming she’d extorted a thousand dollars each for “fuel.” Facing such ungrateful ingrates, I certainly wouldn’t be naive enough to call my mom for help again. At that moment, Brandon suddenly spoke up, brimming with unwarranted confidence. “Everyone, don’t worry! I know a shortcut. It’ll definitely get us to the testing center on time.” Hearing him, everyone visibly relaxed, as if Brandon’s words held some magical power that made them instantly believe him! I knew it. In their eyes, I was just a jealous, bad guy. And Brandon? He was their beloved “good student.” Because I’d pushed them to study late into the night, to memorize texts, while Brandon never did. The expensive prep materials I’d had my mom buy from top tutors were worth less to them than a single lollipop Brandon offered. Even when I’d assigned Brandon duty, they’d claimed I was singling him out. “See? Brandon always has a solution, unlike some people who just clam up when there’s a problem, totally lacking any backbone.” Amy gushed, excitedly linking her arm through Brandon’s, making sure to land a jab at me. I lowered my head, a cold smile playing on my lips, tightening my grip on my phone. Were they truly so certain Brandon would kindly show them a shortcut? 3 As expected, Brandon’s supposed shortcut proved to be entirely useless. The noisy chatter in the bus had vanished, replaced by palpable anxiety on every face. Each tick of the digital clock seemed to drain more color from them. “Are we really not going to make it?” Noah, the class’s study monitor, asked the driver, his voice laced with despair. The driver merely offered a contemptuous sneer in return. If these students hadn’t so stubbornly delayed our departure by fifteen minutes, this entire situation would never have happened. By the time the bus arrived at the testing center, the entrance was already sealed. No students were allowed inside. Amy stepped off the bus, her face stark white. She stared at the high barricades, utterly bewildered. “How can this be?” Noah tried to push past the police tape but was immediately stopped by an officer. “The SATs have already begun. No one is permitted to enter the testing center.” Other students disembarked, their legs like jelly. As Amy had said, this was the SATs—an exam where a single point could change a life, let alone missing an entire section. I watched them, a cold satisfaction flickering in my eyes. You were all so willing to gamble your futures for Brandon, weren’t you? Why are you crying and wailing now? Just then, Amy spoke up, her voice surprisingly steady. “Everyone, don’t panic. We were late for a reason. We can explain the situation to the teachers and arrange for a makeup exam.” The students’ expressions instantly brightened, like drowning people grasping at a lifeline. They clamored, demanding to see a teacher. But before they could take any action, Principal Thompson arrived, his face livid, accompanied by a group of teachers. Seeing the principal’s expression, Amy’s heart inexplicably plummeted. She had a terrible feeling. “Deliberately delaying your departure by fifteen minutes – what were you students thinking? A makeup exam? Don’t even dream about it!” the principal roared. “Not being labeled as intentionally missing the exam and banned from taking the SATs for three years is already a mercy.” His furious words hung in the air. Parents who had been waiting outside the testing center in the rain began to point and whisper. “They were late for something as important as the SATs? How irresponsible can you be?” “If that were my kid, I’d drag them home right now and give them the beating of their life!” The parents’ condemnation plunged everyone further into despair. Noah grabbed Amy by the collar, roaring, “Amy, you told us Elliot was just jealous and lying, that we should wait for Brandon! Why can’t I even get into the testing center now?” The others stared at Amy, their faces filled with rage. Sophia stood with her head bowed, looking as if all the life had been drained from her, her face etched with deep regret. Brandon, meanwhile, choked back tears, his voice trembling with sorrow. “The road never gets blocked, why did it have to get blocked today, the one day I was running late, without any warning?” His words sounded like self-reproach, but they were clearly a subtle manipulation. Suddenly, Amy looked up at me, her eyes bloodshot. “Elliot Carter, you’re pulling the strings, aren’t you? You’re jealous of Brandon, you wanted him to miss the exam! When you couldn’t get what you wanted at school, you called your mom and had her send people to block the road!” She seethed. “You’re so heartless! To play with the futures of our entire class just for some petty jealousy!” 4 The sheer absurdity of it all washed over me. Amy, in her desperate attempt to absolve Brandon, was resorting to such a flimsy excuse. “It wasn’t me—” I began to explain, but Brandon suddenly grabbed a handful of my hair, yanking me toward the bus. Principal Thompson moved to intervene, but Amy’s voice cut through the air, sharp and accusatory. “I saw him! I saw him texting his mom! He’s ruined all of us! Principal, are you really going to protect a malicious student like this?” The other students subtly encircled me, watching the principal and teachers with cold, unyielding gazes, their actions clearly conveying their stance. Brandon feigned heartbroken disappointment, looking at me with feigned sorrow. “Class President, I know you have issues with me, but even if you wanted revenge, you shouldn’t have dragged the entire class into it.” Amy’s face hardened. She moved to help Brandon, pushing my head against the bus. Thud! My head slammed against the metal, drawing blood. But all I heard was Amy’s furious voice: “Elliot Carter, you’ve ruined everyone’s chance at the SATs! Even if you’re my boyfriend, I’m going to make you pay for this!” She yanked my head back and slammed it against the bus again and again. The intense pain made me wish for death, but I knew I couldn’t give in now. Amy was slandering me like this purely to absolve Brandon. After all, everyone was late because they’d waited for him. I screamed, fighting back. “You chose to delay our departure yourselves! Missing the exam has nothing to do with me!” Amy gritted her teeth. “Still lying?” As she spoke, Brandon suddenly aimed his phone’s camera at me. “Folks, this is the scumbag right here! Because he was jealous of me, he deliberately caused our entire class to miss the SATs!” I looked up, catching the fleeting glimpse of triumph in Brandon’s eyes. By this point, he clearly had no intention of keeping up the act. The SATs were already a trending topic, and Brandon’s plea for sympathy immediately drew in over a hundred thousand viewers. The live chat was filled with venomous curses. “The streamer is so pitiful! Following you now, I’ll support whatever you do!” “Sacrificing everyone’s future for his own selfish desires? This kid’s truly rotten!” “What school is this? Whose son is he? Tell me the address, I’ll go take care of him myself!” Noah rushed forward, his voice hoarse with rage. “This is the SATs! How could you be so cruel?” The other students, though not physically charging me, watched with eyes that promised to tear me apart. In just a few minutes, Brandon’s live stream had swelled to three hundred thousand viewers, most of them wishing me dead and even dragging my mom’s name through the mud. Brandon’s expression, hidden from the camera, grew increasingly triumphant. He seemed certain I had no chance of turning this around. “You venomous bastard, you deserve to die!” Just as Amy was about to slam my head against the bus again, a voice cut through the crowd. “Stop!” My mom, Mrs. Carter, pushed through the crowd with a group of bodyguards, rushing to my side. Seeing the blood on my forehead, she pulled me into a protective embrace, her eyes filled with anguish. “How dare you hit my son?” Noah’s voice was ragged. “Elliot Carter made us miss the SATs! He deserves to die!” “Impossible!” My mom raised her phone, her voice ringing out clearly. “The one who truly caused you to miss the SATs is Brandon! I have surveillance video as proof!”

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After my parents divorced, my twin brother and I went our separate ways, each with a different parent. I stayed with Mom, but after the divorce, she sank into a deep depression, gambling away all our money and constantly bringing different men home. She moved us into a cramped, damp rental, where unspeakable sounds often filtered from her room. Every day, besides school, I had to secretly work part-time to scrape together living expenses. Life was brutally hard. Then, one day, my brother, who I hadn’t heard from in ages, sent me a live stream link. It read: “Big Bro, open the link, there’s a surprise.” I clicked it open. To my shock, the most popular live stream had me in it! Two split screens: one showed me in my dingy rental, hunched over homework under a dim light. The other showed Mom and Dad affectionately cuddling my brother, Noah, on a luxurious sofa in a grand mansion. The live stream’s title: “See the Difference: Raising Twins, One in Poverty, One in Luxury, Until Age Eighteen.” Comments scrolled by: “Big Bro still doesn’t know, huh? Their parents never actually divorced, and they’re loaded! They’re perfectly happy, and little bro is living the good life.” Another said: “Big Bro is so pathetic, always starving and shivering. Isn’t this child abuse?” And another: “Well, what do you expect? Big bro is just too sensible, so his parents chose him for the ‘poor’ experiment.” 1 My hands trembled, clutching the phone, unable to believe what I was seeing. This was a “prank” live stream website, mostly watched by rich kids or the upper crust. So, Mom and Dad’s divorce, my “poverty” upbringing, and Noah’s “luxury” upbringing—it was all just a game. A live stream game, six years long, for others’ amusement. I’d always thought Dad took Noah to another city, but they’d been with Mom all along. I sat outside the small, sun-drenched diner where I worked, yet I felt an icy coldness deep in my bones. Noah then sent two more messages: “Big Bro, you’re the one Mom and Dad don’t love.” “Seeing you live like this, my little brother, I feel a bit bad. Living in this mansion, my conscience feels a little uneasy.” My hand, holding the phone, felt heavy as if weighted with lead balls. I felt too sick to even reply. Just then, the boss yelled, “Evan! Clean up these two tables, fast!” This was my daily part-time job after school. After the divorce, Mom had fallen into gambling. She never gave me living expenses, only occasionally tossing me a few scraps when she won at cards. This diner job, I’d practically begged for. At nine PM, I finished work, my spirit crushed, and returned home. It was summer, and the cheap rental on the top floor had no air conditioning. Walking in felt like entering a steam oven. Mom, Dad, and Noah would never experience this. They were probably enjoying the AC in their mansion. The lightbulb flickered, threatening to die again. Ever since Mom moved us into this rental, she rarely came home. And when she did, she always brought different men back, unspeakable sounds echoing from her room. She used the money she earned from sleeping with men to gamble, completely neglecting me, her son. But I never imagined that on the days Mom wasn’t home, she was actually with Noah. Had they ever thought about me, their biological child, struggling to survive in this rental? I’d endured this life for almost six years. I scanned the rental. So many hidden cameras must be in here. A rustling came from the kitchen corner. I knew it: rats scurrying around. At first, I was often scared, but now I was numb to it, used to it. Funny, the rats had been my longest companions in this rental. I clicked the live stream link again. My rental’s live feed was still at the top, incredibly popular. The dark, dingy rental contrasted sharply with the bright, opulent mansion. The pain on my face, mirrored by a similar face on the other screen, was replaced with pure happiness. In that moment, I felt like a rat myself, a rat spying on someone else’s joy. 2 It was my birthday. After school, I finished my part-time job, and by the time I got home, it was almost ten PM. I walked into the rental, carrying a plastic bag. Inside was an old-fashioned cake, very cheap, bought for five dollars. I reached for the light switch, but the light didn’t come on. The room was pitch black. The bulb must have burnt out again. But it was okay; the moonlight streaming in was bright enough. I sat by the window, greedily bathing in the moon’s glow, and placed the cake on the table. There were no candles, so I pretended to put one on the cake, then pretended to light it, closed my eyes to make a wish, and blew. My wish was simple: to do well on my exams. But just as I opened my eyes, I heard someone pounding violently on the door, shouting, “Open up! Pay us back!” “If you don’t open up, we’ll smash your door down!” Although this wasn’t the first time this had happened, I was still terrified. The people outside were debt collectors looking for Mom. She had lost a lot of money gambling. I hid in the room, biting my lip, not daring to cry out. Even though no one answered, they started kicking the door. The rental’s wooden door wasn’t sturdy, and it soon began to splinter. Finally, with a loud BANG, the door was kicked open by the debt collectors. Three strong, rough men stormed in. One of them immediately grabbed me, small and thin, from the corner where I was huddled. “Your mom won’t pay, so we’ll take you instead.” I fell to my knees, tears streaming down my face. “I really don’t have any money. My mom hasn’t been home for days.” One of the collectors punched me in the face. “No money? Then we’ll take your stuff!” They started ransacking the place, tossing things everywhere. They even ripped open my backpack and found twenty dollars inside. I clutched my bleeding mouth, the metallic taste of blood spreading in my mouth. This twenty dollars was my wages from my part-time job today. “Only twenty bucks? Not even enough for a pack of smokes!” They sneered their disdain, but still stuffed the hard-earned money into their pockets. The table was kicked over, and my cake, which I hadn’t even had a chance to eat, was thrown to the floor and stomped into a disgusting mess. They looted the place, leaving me with a room full of chaos, then left, dissatisfied. My birthday passed in this absurd nightmare. 3 I squatted on the floor, weeping with fear. I pulled out my phone, opened the live stream, and rewatched Noah’s birthday celebration from earlier that day. In the brightly lit mansion, Mom and Dad threw Noah a lavish birthday party. Noah wore a custom-tailored suit, looking refined and elegant. “My darling son, you’re so handsome!” Dad exclaimed, his eyes full of admiration. “Just like me when I was young.” Noah’s eyes brimmed with happiness. The birthday cake on the dining table was five layers high, adorned with fresh flowers. In the corner of the living room, birthday presents were piled high. What a beautiful, happy scene. What a stark contrast. We both had birthdays, but Noah had Mom and Dad by his side. And me? I was always alone. The chat feed was buzzing with activity. “Big Bro still doesn’t know, huh? The debt collectors are all arranged by his mom.” “They show up three times a month, like fixed NPC’s refreshing the plot.” “Actually, all the men Mom brings home are just acting for big bro’s benefit, to see if he has self-control.” “Big Bro is suffering so much, don’t his parents feel any heartache at all?” This comment was posted by the streamer himself: “This is also part of our test. It’s all to train him, to build his resilience. I pay people to act. He should be grateful.” “Once big bro finishes his big exam, we’ll bring him home. Then we’ll make up for everything he missed in these six years.” My hands, holding the phone, trembled. A bitter smile touched my lips, my heart filled with a gnawing mix of bitterness and bewilderment. Make up for it? How could they make up for the pain caused by six years of deception? 4 The next day at school, my homeroom teacher found me. “Evan Chen, there’s a scholarship opportunity for studying abroad, full tuition and fees waived, for a math major. Would you be interested?” She looked at me kindly. “The school knows your family situation isn’t ideal. If you secure this opportunity, it could truly change your destiny.” The requirements for this scholarship were very high: three major math competition awards, and an English score above 45. I excelled in academics, the only person in my grade who met both criteria. Without a moment’s hesitation, I nodded and immediately agreed. “Yes, Ms. Lee, I’m absolutely interested.” This must be what Mom and Dad wanted to see, right? The “poor” child growing up fast, working harder, becoming more outstanding. My homeroom teacher patted my shoulder. “Good. You won’t need to take the June exams. Just rest well during this time, and report to the school early when the time comes.” I would soon escape from here, escape this ridiculous live stream game. Escape my so-called birth parents. They didn’t deserve to be my parents at all. I could be perfectly fine on my own. It’s just deception, after all. Anyone can play that game. 5 Today, the city was hosting an event: an exchange and learning conference held by several schools before the exams. As a student representative with excellent grades, I also attended. Before the conference began, an outstanding student representative from an international school was scheduled to speak. A familiar figure walked onto the stage. It was my brother, Noah Chen. He was the student representative for the international school. “Look, that boy looks a bit like Evan Chen from our class,” a classmate pointed out, and others started whispering amongst themselves. “He really does look a bit similar, but that boy is clearly more handsome, you can tell he’s from a rich family.” “He’s rich. How can a poor student compare to him? It’s a world of difference, okay?” Noah and I were twins. We used to have almost identical faces, but due to my prolonged malnutrition, there were now subtle differences. My skin was tanned, my palms rough and calloused; his skin was fair and delicate. Noah had grown up in love and money, while I had grown up alone, amidst hardship and tears. “I heard that guy’s grades are terrible. He’s only speaking because his family is rich and connected,” I heard someone grumble in a low voice. At that moment, Noah was confidently delivering his speech on learning experiences from the stage. I saw Mom and Dad sitting in the second row, holding up their phones, their faces beaming with delight as they recorded Noah’s every word. The people who love you will find a way to record everything about you. Thinking of how Mom had never even attended my parent-teacher conferences all these years, my heart felt a bitter pang. 6 The conference went on for a long time. Midway through, I went to the restroom. When I tried to leave, I found I couldn’t open the door. No matter how hard I tried, it wouldn’t budge, as if someone had locked it from the outside. “Is anyone there? Can someone help me?” I banged on the door, trying to get someone’s attention, but no one responded. I took a step back, about to kick the door open, when it suddenly opened. Noah stood outside the door, with several other boys behind him, blocking me from leaving. My brother simply raised a hand, and one of the boys stepped forward and kicked me to the ground. I clutched my stomach, wincing in pain. Noah grabbed a bucket nearby and poured its contents directly over my head. The dirty, foul-smelling water drenched me, leaving me soaking wet and humiliated. They burst into sneering laughter. I wiped the water from my face, my eyes wet as I stared at Noah. “Why are you doing this?” Noah stepped forward and kicked me into a corner, his eyes burning with suppressed hatred. “Aren’t you the good student? Your grades are so good, why can’t you speak on stage?” His voice was laced with sarcasm. “Evan Chen, do you really think Mom and Dad will bring you back after the exam? Impossible.” He sneered. “I’m telling you, I will never let Mom and Dad bring you back! The live stream will never end.” His eyes gleamed with malice. “You deserve to stay in that dark, miserable rental your whole life, rotting away! To be watched and laughed at by everyone.” He grabbed my hair and kicked me again. I flinched in pain, staring at his distorted, furious face. He looked terrifying. In just six short years, how had the once gentle, kind little brother become like this? He seemed unsatisfied, and with another gesture, the boys behind him rushed forward, punching and kicking me. They even stripped off my clothes. Noah then pulled out his phone and started recording me. “Not making a sound even when being hit? Looks like it’s not hard enough. Kick harder.” “Strip him naked and beat him.” “Mom and Dad have done so much to you, so I, as your little brother, definitely can’t fall behind.” He laughed wildly, a deranged cackle. I whimpered, biting back my sobs, knowing that the more I cried, the more excited he would get. After a long time, Noah finally seemed satisfied. He and his group left. I lay there, soaking wet, shivering with cold. He could laugh now, but not for long. 7 That night, Mom, to my surprise, actually came home, carrying a bag full of food. “Evan, Mom won at cards, so I bought you some goodies.” She pulled out all the snacks from the bag; many of them were imported. Those things must have come from the mansion, I thought. Whatever Noah didn’t want, he’d send to me as charity. Mom stood before me, as if she had something to say. Just as I was about to ask, she suddenly burst into tears. “Evan, Mom is so sorry. Mom has cancer and won’t live much longer.” Cancer? Really? Was it true? Before I could speak, Mom grabbed my hand and continued, as if speaking to herself. “Evan, Mom doesn’t want to die. You have to save Mom.” She paused, then added, “I have a little money here. How much do you have on you? And your grandmother’s bracelet, if we sell it, that money can pay for my treatment.” The mention of Grandma’s bracelet finally made me stop listening. I tensed. “I can give you money, but not the bracelet.” The bracelet was a keepsake from Grandma before she passed away. Grandma had lived with me in this rental for three of those six years. Yes, even Grandma had been deceived. Grandma had believed her daughter was spiraling downwards after the divorce. Mom was truly ruthless, ruthless enough to even deceive her own mother. The thought of Grandma, so old, suffering with me, pained me deeply. I frowned, confronting her. “Mom, are you really sick? Or are you trying to trick me out of my money and Grandma’s bracelet to go gamble again?” Mom’s eyes quickly darted away. She pulled a stack of diagnostic reports from her bag and showed them to me. “Mom really is sick. Look at these results. How could I lie about something like this?” I had given her a chance to confess, but Mom still wouldn’t tell the truth, still stubbornly trying to trick me. I knew those diagnostic reports were fake with a single glance. She hadn’t even bothered to make them look convincing. I was so utterly disappointed. Mom, seeing my stubborn refusal to give her the bracelet, finally gave up, feigning hurt. “Well, Mom will just have to figure something else out then.” She then added, “Mom warmed you a glass of milk. Drink it while it’s warm. You’ve worked hard studying.” I drank the milk and went to bed, even putting the bracelet I’d hidden on my wrist, afraid Mom would steal it. That night, I slept very soundly. The next morning, I woke to find my wrist bare. The bracelet was gone. I quickly opened the live stream to rewatch last night’s video. I saw Mom, when I wasn’t looking, put sleeping pills in my milk. While I was deeply asleep, she secretly took the bracelet from my wrist, then returned to the mansion. No wonder I hadn’t noticed anything last night. She had drugged me. Comments were scrolling by. “This is too cruel. That bracelet was Grandma’s keepsake for big bro, and she just took it.” Mom even snapped back: “He’s not worthy of wearing my mother’s bracelet. It belongs to me, her daughter.” “Besides, I’m doing this to temper big bro, to increase his resilience.” Watching Mom belittle me on the live stream, even justifying her actions as righteous, I felt completely shattered. My heart crumbled. 8 Ever since I found out my every move in the rental was being live-streamed, I rarely stayed home. During the day, I was at school; after school, I worked part-time. I’d rather sit downstairs in the complex, reading under the dim streetlights, than go back to that monitored house filled with hidden cameras. I pulled out my phone and clicked on the live stream link, seeing a new announcement from the streamer. “On the day of the exam, we’ll live stream bringing the ‘poor’ big brother back to the mansion from outside the test center. Everyone, get your gifts ready to fill the screen!” Many people left comments. “So curious to see big bro’s face when he finds out his family is super rich.” “He’ll definitely be thrilled and happy; he’s going to be rich now.” “Not necessarily. He’ll probably be sad and hurt for a long time, wondering why he was raised poor for six years.” I couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh. I wouldn’t let their plan succeed. On the day of the exam, I would already be on a plane to Germany. This game, in the end, would become my game, where I played them. 9 During this period, instead of reviewing for exams, I focused on preparing my documents for going abroad. I called Mom, hoping she would come home and stay with me for a few days before the exams. This particular day, I deliberately asked her, “Mom, after the exams, can I see Noah?” Mom readily agreed, patting my shoulder. “Of course, darling. After it’s all over, Mom will take you to see Dad and Noah.” A faint smile touched my lips, pretending I was overjoyed and excited. Then I brought her a bowl of soup I had prepared from the kitchen. “Mom, you’re sick, so you need to nourish yourself. I specially made this soup for you.” Mom looked at it, utterly touched. As she drank the soup, I placed a stack of documents in front of her. “Mom, you’re sick now. The debt collectors constantly coming after you isn’t good. What if it affects your rest?” I said, feigning concern. “As your son, I don’t want you to suffer, so I plan to transfer all your debts to my name. I’ll earn money to help you pay them off.” I paused, then added, “But first, we need to terminate our mother-son relationship. Once you sign this, all the debt transfers to me.” Mom didn’t look closely. Hearing what I said, she immediately signed her name. “My son, you’re truly too good to your mother. When Mom earns money later, I’ll definitely compensate you.” I smiled and nodded, even comforting Mom to take care of her health. In reality, what Mom signed was not just a document terminating our mother-son relationship, but also the paperwork for the high-interest loan I’d taken out in her name. 10 On the morning of the exam, I left the house with my backpack, just like any other day. The live stream footage showed nothing unusual. But I wasn’t going to school for the exam; I was going to the airport. There was nothing in that house I wanted to take with me. I snapped my phone’s SIM card and threw it in the trash, then put in a new one. My new life was about to begin. The money I’d earned from part-time jobs during this time, the scholarship the school awarded me, plus the ten million dollars in high-interest loans taken out in Mom’s name—all combined, it was enough for me to live in Germany for a while. Once I landed in Germany, I would immediately find an apartment. Two days prior, Mom had asked me which test center I was taking the exam at. I randomly told her the name of a school. I knew Mom and Dad planned to wait for me outside that test center after my last exam. My parents, and the netizens glued to the live stream, were all eagerly anticipating this day. They expected to see surprise, shock, even tears on my face. Unfortunately, I would disappoint them. They would never see it.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “393752”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel