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.

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When my husband proposed bringing the dazzling socialite, Seraphina, into our lives, I didn’t utter a word of protest. He transferred my rightful heirloom jewels to her, and still, I held my tongue. Even when whispers turned to roars—that he intended to publicly sideline me, perhaps even divorce me—I remained silent. Because, deep down, I knew he loved me. Yet, I quietly packed my divorce agreement and slipped away, unseen. However, the bullet comments exploded: [IT’S OVER! THE MALE LEAD WENT TOO FAR, HE’S ABOUT TO LOSE HIS WIFE!]

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Raven Blackwood, the mob boss’s daughter, took me in for five years. If I wanted the stars, she’d give them; if I desired the moon, she’d pluck it from the sky. She was grooming me as her successor. But on the day of her engagement party, she caught me sniffing her lingerie and exploded in a fury, personally shipping me off to Devil’s Island. “So young, yet so twisted! You even dare to lust after me, your guardian!” “Go rot in that hellhole. When you’ve purged those filthy thoughts, then you can come back!” The next day, she broke my drawing hand and sent me to Devil’s Island. Devil’s Island was where members who committed serious crimes were exiled. Nine out of ten never came back. I wailed, begging for her forgiveness. Tears welled in her eyes, but she left without a backward glance. The day after, someone showed up with the boss’s signet ring, telling the warden not to worry about my status – just keep me alive. First day, I was thrown into a rat cage, battling starved rats all night. Second day, I was forced to clean the hallways with my tongue. My mouth was a mass of blisters; even breathing was agony. I developed a stutter. … 1 A year later, Raven Blackwood finally remembered me. She was draped in black, sunglasses hiding her eyes, still every bit the unapproachable mob princess. But behind her stood someone new—her fiancé, Marcus Thorne. “You must be Alex, right? I’m Marcus Thorne, Raven’s fiancé. You left in such a hurry last year, you missed our engagement.” He finished speaking and raised a hand to pat my head. I flinched instinctively. Then, trembling, I nudged my head closer, rubbing against his palm. Raven felt something was off but couldn’t pinpoint what. “Have you learned your lesson?” My throat tightened, my whole body shaking as memories flooded back. This past year of beatings, bloodlettings, and humiliation felt like a thousand needles, making each breath a searing pain. I shrank back, head bowed, my voice barely a whisper: “I’ve learned. I really have.” Raven’s breath hitched; a strange bitterness welled up inside her. Last year, she’d wished I were this docile. Now that I truly was, it felt like a slap in the face. “Good that you’ve learned. From now on, get rid of those improper thoughts.” She nodded curtly, bitterness in her expression, and boarded the helicopter first. I followed, legs pressed tightly together, afraid to take wide steps. The moment the chopper lifted off, I gripped the door, face pale, burying my head in my knees. Memories of being thrown off cliffs into the sea, the impact jarring my organs, surged through me. My blood ran cold, and I shook like a leaf. Raven noticed something was wrong and was about to speak when Marcus cut in: “Alex, I heard you used to love sky-high sports. Is it because you haven’t tried in a year that you’re so worked up?” Marcus feigned concern, draping an arm around my shoulders to calm me. But the hand on my shoulder pressed down hard, and a newly healed wound felt like it was tearing open again. I clutched my jacket tighter, terrified the smell of blood would leak out and I’d be thrown into the dog kennels for their amusement again. I nodded numbly. “Yes, just too excited.” 2 Raven’s tightly furrowed brow finally relaxed, a hint of satisfaction on her face. Back home, I habitually called out, “Mimi.” But the cat that used to leap into my arms was nowhere to be seen. Marcus looked apologetic. “Sorry, Alex. After Raven and I got engaged and moved in together, I developed a cat allergy, so we had Mimi rehomed.” “How about I get you another one?” Raven anxiously watched my expression. Given my old temper, if Marcus had gotten rid of the cat my late father gave me, I would have raised hell. But I just shook my head in fear, eyes wide with panic. “No need. You’re the head of the house. You decide about pets.” Raven let out a long sigh of relief and handed me a can of Coke. “Good boy. Wasn’t this your favorite drink? Drink up today.” I stood frozen, remembering being force-fed Coke until I choked, and hesitated to take it. “Hmm? Don’t like it?” I flinched, snatched the Coke, and gulped it down, ignoring the bursting blisters in my throat, the searing pain. Marcus wrapped an arm around Raven’s slim waist. “Raven, why be so harsh? Alex is still just a nineteen-year-old kid.” Raven glanced at me, a dark current in her eyes. “You always spoil him.” She chuckled, leaning into Marcus’s embrace, but her eyes kept flicking towards me. I kept my head down, not daring to look, just staring at the tips of my shoes. Raven hadn’t expected me to change so drastically. Seeing her intimate with someone else, I no longer threw tantrums or tried to drive them away like before. A faint sense of melancholy touched her heart, but she quickly hid it. “Your old room is still there. Go on up.” The thought that just last year, I was thrown into that hellhole merely for indulging in the scent of her clothes made me shiver. I stammered, “N-no… no need. I’m used to guest rooms now.” With that, I picked up my luggage and retreated to the guest room furthest from Raven’s. Only when the door closed did I dare to relax completely. Trembling, I took out a tin box from my suitcase. It was full of nickels, dimes, and quarters – all the money I’d earned on Devil’s Island. I counted it. Seven hundred dollars. Before Mom left, she told me if I was ever unhappy, I should go find her. I was going to use this money to buy a bus ticket and leave this place for good. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “Alex, are you asleep?” Hearing that familiar female voice, I sat up almost reflexively. In that moment, I forgot I was home; I thought I was still on Devil’s Island. There was a rule: whenever I heard Raven’s voice on a recording, I had to… be ready. Otherwise, I’d be beaten so badly I couldn’t get out of bed for three days. They said it was to cure me of my ‘obsession’ with Raven. But today, maybe it was the change of environment, or maybe I’d truly lost my love for her. As the door opened, I immediately threw myself at her feet, crying out, “Don’t hit me! Don’t hit me, I’ll be quick!” 3 I frantically started… touching myself. But then, the lights flicked on. I saw Raven standing before me, holding an expensive Italian tailored suit, her eyes filled with disbelief. “Alex, what are you doing?” Her voice grated on my nerves. My mind exploded, tears streaming down my face. I groveled on the floor, banging my head repeatedly. “Please, don’t hit me. You can do whatever you want.” When nothing happened for a long moment, I fearfully squirmed, trying to show I was compliant, not resisting. Suddenly, a sharp kick landed on my lower back. I curled up in pain. They’d taken a kidney from that spot just a month ago; it was too fragile for any rough treatment. “Alex Sterling! Do you even look like an heir anymore?” I jerked my head up, meeting her gaze, a moment of clarity piercing through the fog. “No, no, I… I was…” I tried to explain, fumbling, not knowing where to start. She threw the suit at my feet, cutting me off. “Still dare to make excuses! Are you going to say someone forced you? With your status, who would dare touch you! A grown man, learning such disgusting things!” Her expression shifted from anger to disgust. “Alex, let me tell you, cut out these cheap tricks. I will never like you.” “Let alone that you’re just a kid who hasn’t even fully matured, even if you were a real man, I wouldn’t be interested in the slightest!” With that, she slapped me hard across the face, several times. The first slap. “Why did you become such a… freak, neither man nor woman!” The second slap. “Why can’t you learn? Why must you harbor these filthy thoughts!” The third slap. “Why are you such a lost cause? How will you ever take over?” Seeing my face redden, she finally couldn’t bear it and turned away. She placed my father’s photograph in front of me, along with a phone playing a video she’d just recorded. “Your father died for this Family. And you?” “You kneel here and reflect. See if you can face your father!” Then, she turned and strode out. I knelt there, fingers gripping my father’s photo so tightly they turned white. The video played my begging voice over and over. Those sounds wrapped around me like a nightmare, inescapable. My eyes bloodshot, I sank into painful memories of the past. A year. I had learned to be obedient. Learned not to complain. Even learned not to love her anymore. But why wouldn’t she let me go? I truly didn’t dare anymore. Didn’t dare to love her, didn’t even dare to get close to her. Wasn’t her punishment enough? If not, I’d do it myself! As if possessed, I started slapping myself frantically, muttering as I did. “I don’t dare anymore, Alex doesn’t dare to love Raven Blackwood anymore…” Over and over, I repeated the phrase numbly, until I finally passed out. 4 When I woke up the next day, the room was empty. From downstairs, I could hear Raven and Marcus’s cheerful laughter. I mechanically sat at the dining table, eating breakfast. “Your face… does it hurt?” Raven stared anxiously at my injuries, noticing faint traces of blood seeping from beneath the swollen skin. I shook my head, my voice hoarse and weak. “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” “How could it not hurt?” She rushed over anxiously to examine my wounds. Then, as if realizing something, she shoved me to the ground. “You’re playing mind games again, aren’t you? Just three slaps, how could it be this bad?” I no longer felt the pain, just mechanically got to my feet. “I’m done eating. You two enjoy.” “Alex, wait a minute!” Marcus grabbed my arm, holding out a new suit. He playfully tapped Raven’s nose. “Alright now, he’s the kid you practically raised. Can you really stay mad at him?” “Tonight’s the party specifically for Alex. He can’t look like this. I got him a new suit. Go try it on.” Raven patted his hand, moved, then turned to me with a look of exasperation. “Stop your scheming. Behave yourself.” I nodded obediently and followed Marcus upstairs. He dismissed the servants and began to help me undress, looking at the crisscrossing scars on my body as if admiring a masterpiece. “Alex Sterling, it wasn’t a waste for me to have people ‘take special care’ of you. This body full of scars is disgusting to look at.” “How can you compete with me for Raven? Her husband will only be me. The position of heir can only go to our child. What are you?” Hearing this, I was somewhat surprised, but I no longer had the energy to be angry. “I won’t fight you. I’ll leave.” Marcus scoffed, not believing me at all. “I’ll only be at ease when I send you away myself.” With that, he chopped the back of my neck, knocking me out. “Trouble, trouble! Mr. Thorne and young Mr. Sterling are gone!” “Looking at the room, it seems they’ve been kidnapped!” A servant held a letter with large, stark words. “To ransom them, come to the abandoned warehouse.” Raven’s hand, holding her teacup, trembled. She was livid. “Rescue them!” When I woke up, Marcus and I were tied to pillars in an abandoned warehouse. The expensive white suit was pristine on me, but Marcus was covered in blood, barely breathing. Raven stood opposite, tensed for a confrontation. “Raven Blackwood, I didn’t think you’d actually dare to come!” “Take one step back!” With that, a knife plunged into Marcus’s arm. Blood spurted instantly. “No!” Raven’s eyes were bloodshot, her voice a raw scream. Her men stood behind her, but dared not make a rash move, only cautiously taking a step back. “Whatever you want, I’ll agree!” “Is it money you want? I brought it!” As bundles of cash scattered across the floor, the kidnapper finally relented. His playful gaze darted between me and Marcus, an interested look on his face. “This much money is only enough to save one. Let’s see who you choose.” 5 Raven saw I was unharmed and visibly sighed in relief. Then she saw Marcus, covered in wounds, her eyes filled with pain. Finally, she closed her eyes and, with a pained heart, pointed. “Let Marcus go.” I gave a self-deprecating smile. What was I even hoping for… Marcus was released. Raven held his weak form, tears of distress streaming down her face. “Raven, these men were hired by Alex. He wanted to test his place in your heart.” With that, Marcus fainted. Raven’s head snapped up, looking at my clothes, which weren’t even dusty. Suddenly, she remembered the handwriting on the ransom note was mine. She had her men carry Marcus to the car, her gaze towards me chillingly cold. “Alex Sterling, since you love playing these games so much, you can face the consequences yourself!” With that, she turned and left without hesitation, not even sparing me a glance. I watched the kidnappers closing in on me, my pupils contracting, blood rushing to my head. My mind involuntarily flashed back to the most unbearable memories from Devil’s Island. The dark water cell, the cold pliers, and those men who had been deprived for so long. My body trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. “Aunt Raven, please, save me! Don’t leave me here! Please!” I struggled frantically, letting the wire mesh dig into my skin. Blood quickly stained the once-pure white suit. Raven’s steps faltered. She turned her head, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. Ultimately, she strode out of the warehouse. As soon as she was out, Marcus woke up. He weakly clutched Raven’s hand. “Raven, maybe we should…” Raven sneered. “He hired those men himself. What could happen to him? When his little drama is over, he’ll come back.” Sure enough, no more sounds came from the warehouse, as if proving her words. But she didn’t know I wasn’t screaming because those thugs had cut out my tongue. My body was like a rag doll, toyed with at their whim. Not satisfied, they broke my arms and legs. My very soul trembled with pain, yet I endured this torment for two whole days and nights. After a long while, I mustered my last bit of strength and crawled to the warehouse rooftop. I looked towards the city where my mother lived, remembering what she said before she left. “If you’re not doing well, come find me. I’ll always be your mother.” I was so close, just a little bit more, and I could have escaped this hell. But the person I loved most had utterly destroyed me. I closed my eyes, tears flowing. Mom, I can’t leave… I really don’t have any strength left… My body and soul are completely shattered. And yet, I wanted to live so badly. I saw that familiar Rolls-Royce approaching in the distance. Without hesitation, I pushed myself up and toppled over the edge.

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As the princess of the Spirit Realm, I was born bonded to Heartseeker, the blade fabled for its ultimate devotion. In my last life, to hasten the birth of its Blade Spirit, I endured daily baptisms in scorching bronze water and anointed it with my own blood. On the day the Blade Spirit finally formed, celestial energy converged from across the world, shaking the very foundations of existence. The Celestial Emperor himself descended from the heavens to grant me divinity, bestowing upon me dominion over mortal fate. But as I prepared to offer my thanks, the Blade Spirit manifested its true form and ran me through with the very sword I had nurtured. He held my sister, Joanne, in his arms, looking down at me with cold disdain. “You only ascended because of my power,” he sneered. “If you are worthy of this godhood, then Joanne is as well!” Only then did I understand. The Blade Spirit I had sacrificed everything for had loved my sister all along. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the past, watching Joanne throw a tantrum, demanding to switch bonded blades with me. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I tossed Heartseeker straight to her. I wanted to see just how they would ascend to godhood without me. 1 The hollow emptiness of my soul’s dissipation felt as if it had happened only a second ago, yet when I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by the familiar sights of the day my Blade Spirit was to be awakened. As spirits, we exist above mortals but below the gods. Those of us with royal blood are born with a bonded blade, a companion sword whose power and nature reflect our own. My bonded blade was Heartseeker, one of the ten legendary celestial swords. It was foretold that once its spirit awakened, I would gain the power to command the fates of the mortal realm. I grew up bearing the weight of immense expectation, with the Royal Seer himself predicting I would be the next goddess to ascend from our realm. And so, under the watchful eyes of my entire kingdom, the day of the awakening ceremony arrived. In my previous life, a small incident occurred just before the ritual. My half-sister, Joanne, tried to steal Heartseeker and replace it with her own blade. If our father hadn’t discovered her in time, Heartseeker would have been lost to me. Now, I watched as Joanne knelt in the center of the great hall, her face a mask of bitter resentment as she screamed at our father on the throne. “Why? We are both your daughters, yet Sybil was born with Heartseeker by her side, while I was given this useless piece of bronze meant for farming!” Her voice cracked with fury. “I am the elder princess! But Sybil outshines me at every turn. You call it talent, but I call it favoritism!” Our father slammed his hand on the armrest, his face flushed with anger. “As her older sister, you try to steal her bonded blade, and you still have the audacity to argue? For the past century, I have clearly been too lenient with you!” But Joanne wouldn’t back down, her frustration dissolving into tears. “Lenient? Since you married your new queen, when have you ever cared for me? Father, if my mother knew you treated me this way, how could she ever rest in peace?” As she wept, I noticed Heartseeker, resting on its stand, begin to vibrate, a low hum resonating from its steel. In my past life, I was blind. The sword’s preference was so obvious, yet I had noticed nothing. Joanne staggered to her feet, her eyes burning with hatred as she looked at me. “Father, if you cannot decide, then let Heartseeker decide!” she declared. “Sybil, do you dare face the trial with me? Let us both offer our blood and see whom the blade chooses!” Seeing her so resolute, a thought sparked in my mind. She must have been reborn, too. Before my father could forbid it, I accepted without a moment’s hesitation. “Fine. If Heartseeker truly desires you, then I have no want for a blade so quick to betray its master.” Joanne’s eyes lit up. Before our father could intervene, we had both sliced open our palms. As the entire court watched, the moment Heartseeker sensed Joanne’s blood, it shot into the sky like a comet. After circling a few times, it came to a stop, hovering directly before her. A triumphant, almost manic laugh escaped Joanne’s lips. “It chose me! Heartseeker chose me!” Watching the sword make its choice without even waiting for me to complete the ritual, a wave of bitter irony washed over me. For a hundred years, I had submitted myself to daily torture, bathing in molten bronze and feeding it my lifeblood, all so I wouldn’t tarnish its legendary name. All that suffering, only to hand-craft a wedding dress for Joanne. While the court reeled in disbelief at Heartseeker’s decision, a drop of blood from my hand fell, landing unnoticed on the humble bronze sword Joanne had tossed aside. The next moment, the discarded blade flared with a soft, warm light. It rose from the floor and stood before me, silent and steady. It had chosen me. 2 “Hahaha! Well, well, little sister, it seems this piece of junk is your true destiny after all! I knew it! A blade like that could never be worthy of the great elder princess of the Spirit Realm!” Joanne, now holding Heartseeker, mocked me without restraint. “You two are a perfect match! Aren’t you always talking about bringing fortune to the mortals? Go on then! Go help those wretched peasants plant their crops!” Our father, surveying the chaos, rubbed his temples. “Joanne, that’s enough! Return Heartseeker to Sybil at once!” “No need,” I said, speaking before Joanne could. I reached out and took the hilt of the plain bronze sword. “Since the blades have chosen their masters, let it be. A bronze sword, a celestial sword—what does it matter? In the end, it is the hand that wields the blade that counts.” My defiance only enraged Joanne more. “Don’t you get high and mighty with me! We’ll see how proud you are when you can’t even conjure a spirit from that pathetic excuse for a sword!” I ignored her taunts. She was right about one thing: my priority now was to awaken the spirit within this bronze blade. A fully formed Blade Spirit was a being of near-divine power, after all. Back in my palace, I prepared to anoint the bronze sword with my lifeblood, just as I had done with Heartseeker for a century. But as I moved to do so, the sword seemed to sense my intent and pulsed with a gentle light, stopping me. It then tilted, showing me the engravings on its side. On the hilt was the art of the harvest; on the blade itself, the words “Mountains, Rivers, Grass, and Trees.” I ventured a guess. “Are you telling me the way to awaken your spirit is to ensure the mortal world’s crops and livestock flourish in their proper seasons?” The sword hummed and flew two quick, happy circles around me. I immediately summoned the Mirror of Souls, a divine artifact used to observe the mortal realm, intending to find a place in need of a blessing. But what I saw horrified me. Instead of an orderly cycle of seasons, a famine stretched for a thousand miles across the land. “How could this be?” I gasped. “How long has it been since Joanne fulfilled her duty to the mortal world?” As if on cue, Joanne’s scornful voice drifted in from outside my palace. “Sybil, you truly are determined to debase yourself. Are you really rushing to save those worthless mortals?” She entered, sneering. “We are spirits. Are they even worth our time? Only someone with your pathetic, narrow view of the world would willingly do such thankless work.” Her eyes narrowed with contempt. “You’re just like your mother. Pathetic and baseborn.” Joanne’s mother had died in childbirth. Though no one in the palace ever spoke of her, Joanne had always carried herself as the true, legitimate heir. She saw my mother as nothing more than an illegitimate usurper and never showed her an ounce of respect. Hearing her insult my mother so brazenly, the rage I had suppressed finally erupted. “Shut your mouth!” I lashed out with a wave of spiritual energy. Joanne didn’t even try to dodge. A calculating smile played on her lips. In the next instant, Heartseeker materialized from thin air, shattering my attack before hurtling straight towards me. The bronze sword at my side shot in front of me, trying to protect me, but it was no match for a celestial blade. It held for a mere second. If not for my quick reflexes, the blade would have claimed my life, not just grazed my cheek. I pressed a hand to the bronze sword, which was trembling with fury. Joanne, who had never seen me so disheveled, burst into laughter. “Do you see now, Sybil? Do you know what it feels like to be trampled underfoot? Oh, this is just delightful!” Her voice was giddy with power. “Do you realize that with a single command, I can have Heartseeker end your life? This feeling is absolutely intoxicating!” I stared at her coldly, then aimed for her weak spot. “Joanne, you have neglected your duties for a century, causing endless famine in the mortal realm. If word of this were to reach the Celestial Court, do you still think you could ascend to godhood?” Just as I expected, the triumphant smile on her face froze. To become a god, one must accumulate blessings and merit. By neglecting the mortals, she had earned their hatred, not their worship. Her own merits were shallow to begin with; if the gods discovered she had actively harmed the mortal realm, her path to divinity would be severed forever. Cornered by my threat, Joanne had no choice but to retreat, her face a mask of bitter reluctance. After she left, I followed the guidance of the bronze sword. Using the Mirror of Souls, I sowed seeds across the famished lands. Then, using my own lifeblood as a conduit, I called down the waters of the Celestial River, causing the crops to grow with miraculous speed. As ripened wheat and plump fruits appeared before their eyes, the mortals wept with joy, falling to their knees and bowing towards the heavens. “Praise be to the Harvest God! Thank you, thank you!” Absorbed in their joy, I didn’t notice that as my bronze sword absorbed the mortals’ grateful blessings, a faint golden light shimmered across its surface. 3 After several seasons of tending to the mortal realm, the day of my ascension from my previous life arrived. This time, however, the star of the show was Joanne. She had been boasting for weeks, proclaiming to the entire Spirit Realm that this was the day she would summon her Blade Spirit and become the new goddess. As guests and dignitaries arrived, she held her head high, already behaving as if she wore a divine crown. She seemed to be waiting for me. Only when I appeared did she speak, her voice dripping with arrogance. “Today is the day I become a god. Soon, I will be one of the divine, a world apart from the likes of you! Try not to be too jealous, Sybil.” Ignoring the sour looks from the crowd, she drew on her spiritual power and poured it into Heartseeker. The next moment, the eternally pleasant weather of the Spirit Realm roiled and turned violent. Dark clouds gathered, and lightning split the sky. With two deafening cracks of thunder, a man clad in green, radiating immense divine power, appeared before them. The Royal Seer was the first to cry out. “The Blade… the Blade Spirit! That’s the Spirit of Heartseeker! He’s a demigod!” The spirit, whose name was Ignis, glanced at the crowd with disdain, but his expression softened the moment his eyes fell on Joanne. He stepped forward, ignoring everyone else, and gently caressed her cheek, his eyes filled with an almost obsessive adoration. “Joanne,” he murmured. “We finally meet.” “You have awakened me. You are my fated love. For all of eternity, I will protect you.” Joanne was trembling with excitement, gazing at Ignis, her heart pounding in anticipation of what would come next. But then… nothing. The dark clouds dispersed, and tranquility returned. The great convergence of celestial energy from my past life never happened. The Celestial Emperor did not descend to grant her divinity. The smile on Joanne’s face slowly vanished. She grabbed Ignis’s sleeve, her voice shrill with panic. “Why did nothing happen? Where is the Emperor? Why haven’t I ascended? Say something!” Ignis looked just as confused. He tried to summon the world’s energy, but failed. Before he could answer, I felt an invisible force lift me into the air. My bronze sword, which I had put away, materialized before me, letting out a sharp, clear ring. Having been through this once, I knew exactly what this was: the prelude to a Blade Spirit’s birth. But this was just a simple bronze sword. Could it truly birth a spirit? As I hesitated, Joanne, still seething from her failed ascension, turned her anger on me. “That piece of junk? You actually think it can produce a Blade Spirit? Sybil, you’ve truly lost your mind!” Her mockery was the final push I needed. I cast aside my doubts, drew on my own spiritual power, and merged it with the bronze sword. The sky, which had just cleared, was once again swallowed by darkness. But this time, beneath the roiling clouds, the roar of dragons echoed, and golden dragons could be seen weaving through the gloom. The very earth shook, sending boulders tumbling down from the Unshakable Mountain. The divine pressure was so immense that everyone present was forced to their knees, prostrating themselves on the ground. Only I remained untouched, my robes fluttering gently as I stood in the center of the storm, face-to-face with the Blade Spirit who had just appeared before me. He wore a golden crown, his black robes embroidered with golden dragons. His gaze was direct and intense, and though he moved with the grace of a scholar, he radiated the power of a thunderstorm. “My lady,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “My name is Anthony. I am the Blade Spirit you have awakened.” Two Blade Spirits born in a single day. It was unheard of in the history of the Spirit Realm. I saw the muscles in Joanne’s jaw tighten. She was afraid. Afraid that I, just like in her previous life, would draw the attention of the Emperor and ascend to godhood. But this time was different. I did not immediately ascend. Joanne let out a shaky breath, her arrogant demeanor returning in a rush. “Hmph. So you managed to stumble your way into summoning a low-level spirit. A shame he’s nothing compared to my Ignis.” She shot me a condescending look. “Just you wait. The next goddess to ascend from this realm will be me!” With that, she grabbed Ignis’s hand and practically dragged him toward her palace. Others might not have known what she was planning, but I did. Once bonded, a Blade Spirit was the most compatible partner for cultivation. Joanne was going to use him to rapidly increase her power and force her ascension. I suppressed a scornful smile. I only hoped she wouldn’t regret her choice. 4 Back in my palace, I watched Anthony, who followed me with quiet devotion. I couldn’t help but ask. “Anthony, Ignis was nurtured by divine power and a century of my lifeblood to take form. But you… I’ve done nothing for you. How is this possible?” Hearing my words, Anthony frowned slightly. He stepped closer and gently pressed his forehead against mine. “A century of your lifeblood,” he murmured, his voice soft. “That must have hurt terribly.” A stream of pale golden energy flowed from where we touched. To my astonishment, I felt the chronic ache in my heart begin to fade. To nourish Heartseeker, I had strained my heart to the point of illness, a secret I had never told anyone. In my last life, even after we were bonded, Ignis knew of my condition but never showed a hint of concern. Sensing my sudden wave of sorrow, Anthony wrapped his arms around me, gently patting my back. “You have already done more than enough for me,” he explained. “You brought order to the seasons of the mortal world, making their harvests plentiful. The mortals, in their gratitude, offered you their prayers and worship. Those blessings became the power that allowed me to take form.” He held me tighter. “Sybil. From now on, I will protect you. I will ensure you live up to your name, free of all worry.” I leaned against him. Though Joanne was right that he might not be as powerful as Ignis, his simple embrace brought me a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in lifetimes. After that day, the entire Spirit Realm was watching Joanne and me, speculating on which of us would be the first to ascend. For the next two weeks, Joanne left me in peace. But I never expected that on the very day Anthony was away tending to the mortal realm’s spring planting, she and Ignis would come for me. I frowned, instinctively calling for the guards outside. But Ignis simply tossed their lifeless bodies at my feet. “Sybil,” he said coolly, “they can’t help you.” Seeing him kill with such casual cruelty, I trembled with rage. “You call yourself a demigod, yet you slaughter our people like a demon! Ignis, do you not fear retribution?” He was completely unbothered. “I am the spirit of Heartseeker. Even minor gods must bow to me. Do I look like I fear anything?” A ball of fire materialized in Joanne’s hand, a divine power she had gained from cultivating with Ignis. Her eyes were filled with malice. “I was going to spare you,” she hissed, “but you just had to push your luck, forcing a spirit from that pathetic sword to compete with me.” “If that’s how you want it, then don’t blame me for forgetting we are sisters! Today, you will die!” Heartseeker was a fire-aligned blade, its flames rivaling those of the mythical Vermilion Bird. Realizing her intent, I immediately launched myself at her, fighting for my life. But after cultivating with Ignis, Joanne’s power was now equal to my own. And Ignis, forgetting the century I had spent nurturing him, saw his chance. While I was engaged with Joanne, he struck, slamming his palm directly into my chest. “How dare you lay a hand on Joanne!” he roared. “You’re asking for death!” A wave of excruciating pain shot through me. I coughed up mouthfuls of blood, unable to even get back on my feet. Seeing me so broken and helpless, Joanne let out a wild, triumphant laugh. “Look at you, Sybil! Like a drowned dog! This is more satisfying than I ever imagined! After tonight, there will be only one princess in the Spirit Realm, and only one goddess to ascend!” “Now, sleep forever!” With her final word, she and Ignis combined their power to summon a raging inferno that consumed my palace. Then, after wiping every trace of their presence, they vanished. The air shimmered with heat. I struggled to my feet, trying to escape, but I was completely surrounded by a wall of fire. The flames began to devour my robes, the searing pain on my skin unbearable. Staring into the void, I choked out a desperate cry. “Anthony, save me!”

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Matt saved a girl with no memory, and in return, she latched onto him, refusing to let go. She drove the million-dollar car he bought her to and from a job he gave her, and at night, he was the one who soothed her to sleep. For years, I believed Matt’s heart was mine and mine alone. But when she appeared, it turned out he had more than enough love to go around. And the moment he chose to sacrifice my feelings for hers one last time, my love for him finally died. 1 The cake flew upwards, a sudden explosion of frosting and sponge that splattered across my face. Through the blur, I could see Matt shielding Mia in his arms. She was completely untouched. For a heartbeat, the world went silent. A warm thumb gently wiped the cream from my eyelashes. I forced my eyes open and saw the guilt and pain swimming in Matt’s. But the ache in his eyes was nothing compared to the one blooming in my chest. A thousand tiny needles pricked at my heart, so sharp that I was too slow to even push him away. The crowd began to disperse. The woman who’d caused the scene was now trembling behind her husband, the reality of her mistake dawning on her. Matt, his eyes never leaving my face, grabbed a napkin and began to meticulously clean the mess from my skin. Without even looking up, he uttered a single sentence that nearly brought the man to his knees. “Our partnership is terminated.” Behind us, the woman who had been so arrogant moments before began to beg, her pleas punctuated by her husband’s furious, defeated shouts. Mia trailed behind us, trying to make herself as small as possible. She stayed silent until Matt opened the passenger door for me and was about to walk around to his side. That’s when she finally spoke. “Matt,” she whispered, her voice fragile. “I’m scared to go home. I don’t remember anyone… I’m so afraid of being alone.” She knew he was angry with her. She stood by the car, her body swaying as if a slight breeze might knock her over. The wind tangled her hair, framing her face in a calculated portrait of vulnerability against the dark night. Matt’s foot, poised to step into the car, froze. He leaned against the door, saying nothing. The cloying stickiness of cream and sugar clung to my skin, matting in my hair, making my very existence feel uncomfortable. A slow-burning fire started in my gut. I pushed the door open and got out. “You take her,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ll get a cab.” Before Matt could even process it, I was in a taxi, pulling away from the curb. His desperate shouts followed me, the sound laced with a bitterness that was lost to the growing distance. Only when my taxi had completely vanished from sight did he finally let Mia get in his car. And then, he took her home. 2 Matt returned sooner than I expected. This time, he didn’t see Mia all the way to her room. I was in the shower, the hot water doing little to wash away the night’s chill, when he came and stood outside the bathroom door. He apologized through the wood. “I’m sorry, Tess. She threw herself at me before I could react.” “It’s fine,” I called back, my voice hollow. “Next time, I’ll find a man to throw myself at, too.” Silence. It stretched for so long I thought he’d left. Then I heard a soft rustle. He’d slid down to the floor, his expensive suit crumpling against the tiles, listening to the rush of the water as he sank into his own thoughts. Inside the steam-filled bathroom, silent tears I’d choked back in public finally broke free, scalding paths down my cheeks. The humiliation, the jealousy, the sheer injustice of it all—it was too much to hold in anymore. After all our years together, I never knew Matt could be so soft-hearted toward another woman. So soft that he would repeatedly wound me just to soothe Mia’s fragile feelings. Tonight, Matt slept in the guest room. It was a new habit of his, one he’d developed since Mia came into our lives. One girl. That’s all it took to shatter the peaceful world we had built. I remember that first day so clearly. A strange girl, curled in Matt’s arms in a sterile hospital room, crying that he was the only one she wanted. When he saw me standing in the doorway, he just frowned, a look of helpless apology on his face. He didn’t push her away. Later, I got the story. She had darted in front of his car. He’d saved her, but when she woke up, her memory was gone. She was like a lost lamb, her eyes filled with a profound, terrifying confusion. She recoiled from her own parents but clung to Matt’s sleeve as if it were a lifeline. She had made him her entire world. Matt didn’t come home that night. He stayed at the hospital with her. When he finally returned, he tried to explain. “She did it on purpose, Tess. She ran in front of my car. She was trying to kill herself.” His eyes were earnest, pleading for me to understand. “I have to save her.” I saw the resolve in his gaze, and though every instinct screamed at me to fight it, I said nothing. I knew then that no words of mine could stop the path he was determined to walk. 3 After Mia was discharged, the world was a frightening, alien landscape to her, and she clung to Matt even tighter. It started with video calls, one in the morning and one at night, as reliable as the sunrise. Then, it escalated. She’d call in the middle of the night, her panicked voice slicing through our sleep. I’d be jolted awake, only to watch Matt slip out of bed and take the call in the other room. I’d stare at the empty space he left behind, sleep now a distant memory. He’d be gone for an hour, sometimes two. He couldn’t hang up until he had soothed her back to sleep. “Matt, don’t you think this is getting out of hand?” I finally asked one night, the exhaustion making my voice sharp. “It’s been over a month. Why is she still calling you for everything?” “She had a nightmare,” he murmured, pulling me into his arms, trying to lull me back to sleep. “She’s starting to get flashes of memory, bad ones.” “So what?” I pulled away slightly. “Is she going to be latched onto you for the rest of her life?” He chuckled, his eyes still closed, and tightened his embrace. “Jealous girl. I’ll talk to her tomorrow, I promise.” But his version of “talking to her” ended with Mia showing up at my office, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Please,” she choked out, her voice a fragile whisper. “Don’t make Matt shut me out. He’s all I know right now… all I recognize. I promise, as soon as I get more comfortable, I’ll disappear. I won’t bother you guys again.” My patience, worn thin over weeks of sleepless nights, finally snapped. “Mia, you’re not a child. You have parents. You must have had friends. Matt has a wife. Don’t you think constantly clinging to a married man is… inappropriate?” She bit her lip, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. “But I have amnesia, I—” “You have amnesia, you’re not an idiot,” I cut her off. “Surely you understand the concept of wrecking a home, don’t you?” My words hit her like a physical blow. She staggered back, her eyes wide with unshed tears. Just then, the elevator dinged, and Matt stepped out. The moment she saw him, Mia turned and fled. And without a second thought, Matt chased after her. It was in that instant I realized it. In just a few short months, Mia’s hold on him had become terrifyingly deep. He couldn’t bear to see her suffer even a moment of distress. How had I been so blind? That evening, their melodrama played out for the world to see. Someone filmed them in the middle of the street and the video went viral. Mia had run directly into traffic, forcing cars to screech to a halt. Matt, shouting her name, finally caught up to her. Amid a cacophony of angry horns and cursing drivers, one of them cried while the other comforted. “I’m shameless, I know I am!” she sobbed. “I’m the one clinging to you! Just let me go, please, let me keep what little dignity I have left!” The pain on Matt’s face was raw. “No, Mia, no. It’s not your fault. How could I ever blame you? You’re just lost… It was never you clinging to me.” The sound of a car horn blared, and then he pulled her into a tight, protective embrace. Even though I knew he’d manage to calm her down, seeing it with my own eyes—that desperate, public embrace—sent a tremor through my heart. I couldn’t understand how his love for her had bloomed so suddenly, or how his love for me had withered so fast. Just then, my phone buzzed with a notification. I opened it. It was a video, sent from Matt’s phone. He was at Mia’s house. The camera panned across a lively scene: Mia, laughing and playfully teasing him; her parents, beaming at him, chatting warmly. The atmosphere was one of perfect domestic bliss. I looked around my own silent living room. I was still wearing the stupid paper birthday hat. In front of me sat an untouched cake, its candles long since burned down to waxy stumps. The video was deleted a moment after I saved it. I didn’t have to guess who had sent it to me by “mistake.” I cut myself a slice of cake. The frosting was sweet, so cloyingly sweet it tasted bitter. Birthday wishes flooded in from my parents and friends. I wiped the tear tracks from my face and forced a cheerful tone as I replied to each one. They all remarked on how chatty I was. “It’s my birthday!” I texted back with a smiling emoji. “Of course I’m happy!” Right at the stroke of midnight, a new message popped up. A grayed-out profile picture flickered to life for a brief second, then went dark again. But seeing it, I smiled for the first time all night. A real smile. And in that moment, I realized something. I had a family. I had friends. My world didn’t have to revolve around Matt. I finished the large slice of cake, washed my face, and went to bed. I made myself a promise. I’m not waiting for you anymore, Matt. At one in the morning, I was shaken awake. It was Matt, just returned, still in his clothes from the day. The moonlight cast his face in shadow, his expression unreadable in the dark. After a long moment, his voice cut through the silence, cold and flat. “Tess, I’m letting this go, just this once. But from now on, you are not to bully Mia again.” His words shattered the fragile surface of my composure, unleashing a tidal wave of fury. I sat up and stared directly at him. I wanted to scream why. Why was she the one who got his protection? But what would be the point? The answer wouldn’t change a thing. So instead, I just smiled, a cool, empty thing, and nodded. “Okay.” Matt flinched, clearly taken aback. He had come home braced for a fight, ready to stand his ground even if I threw a fit. My calm acceptance seemed to unnerve him more than any argument could have. It only confirmed his suspicion that I was playing some kind of game. “Tess, don’t be so unreasonable!” 4 With my “blessing,” Matt no longer held back. I heard through the grapevine that he’d bought Mia a condo. And a new car, a luxury one. She was seen driving it everywhere, a picture of carefree independence. Eventually, Matt came to me with an explanation. “Mia’s not been doing well,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. “She’s remembering things, just broken pieces. Her therapist suggested a change of environment might help.” I sat at my desk, my face a mask of indifference. “Right. Got it.” “I won’t be staying here for a while,” he added, lingering by the door, studying me. He was still trying to figure it out—was I genuinely okay with this, or was this the world’s longest silent treatment? I stopped typing and looked up at him, a flicker of amusement in my eyes. “Sure. You spent your own money on a house and car for another woman. It would be a waste not to stay there. At least you won’t be losing sleep at night, worrying about her.” A complex emotion I couldn’t decipher flickered in his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but his phone rang, shattering the moment. A shrill scream echoed from the speaker. I didn’t need to guess who it was. Matt, who had been home for less than thirty minutes, was gone again in a flash. I heard the roar of his car’s engine fading down the street. In that moment, I had never been more certain of my decision. If he had taken just one step closer, if he had just glanced at my computer screen, he would have seen it. The divorce papers, already drafted and waiting.

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My little brother is the internet’s most hated pop star. So when we signed up for a family reality show together, he tiptoed around like he was walking on eggshells, while I was out there raising hell. I’d pick a fight with a stray dog just for looking at me wrong. My brother, Liam, would whisper, “Aria, for the love of God, just tone it down. I’m begging you.” But his fans? They were eating it up. “This is awesome! Keep going, we live for this!” 1 I’d just gotten back to the States after studying abroad when my brother, Liam, landed a gig on a new family-centric reality show. He asked Mom to join him. She just sipped her tea and said, cool as a cucumber, “Absolutely not. I wouldn’t be caught dead on that kind of thing.” He asked Dad. Without even looking up from a mountain of paperwork, Dad grunted, “A million a day, and I’ll think about it.” Liam was speechless. Defeated, he turned his pleading, puppy-dog eyes on me. I threw my hands up with a grin. “It’s just a reality show, right? Don’t worry, big sis has got your back.” I saw Mom give me a look, one that screamed, Are you sure about this? Liam, on the other hand, was practically weeping with gratitude. He threw his arms around me. “Aria, you’re the best. Seriously, I’m so lucky to have you.” I patted his head, feeling a swell of pride. “Hey, look at you, little bro. You’re a huge star now. I’m so proud to have a brother like you.” He shifted awkwardly, a blush creeping up his neck. “Aria… maybe you should, uh… check the internet first?” I’d been in such a rush coming home that I hadn’t had time to catch up on the latest gossip. Puzzled but still smiling, I pulled out my phone and opened up Chirper. And then my smile froze. He was famous, all right. Just in a completely different way. From the moment he’d debuted two years ago, the internet had been a cesspool of vitriol directed at him. His singing and dancing were decent, but he’d landed a top spot on a competitive reality show, and the consensus was that he’d only gotten there by crying his way through it. They’d even compiled clips of his dancing into a viral montage titled “Senior Citizen Rehab Exercises.” In that moment, I deeply regretted saying, “I’m so proud of you.” And I knew, with absolute certainty, that he was about to deeply regret saying, “I’m so lucky to have you.” 2 The show, The Family Project, was filming for seven days at a sprawling mountain resort, all of it broadcasted live. From the second we set foot on the property, a drone was buzzing over our heads, capturing everything. When Liam and I arrived at the base of the mountain, another pair of contestants was already there. The guy looked to be in his mid-twenties, tan and tall, with a girl in athletic wear standing next to him. They were huddled together, whispering, and the girl looked seriously pissed off. The moment she saw us, her chin shot up and she let out a sharp, disdainful huff. Liam leaned in and murmured in my ear, “That’s Adam Vance. On that reality show two years ago, he was ranked 12th—the last one cut before the finale. The internet trolls all say I stole his spot.” I got it instantly. Classic reality TV drama-baiting. As we walked over, Adam put on a show of being the humble, wronged martyr, offering us a meek greeting. My brother, already terrified of the online hate, was practically trembling as he reached out to shake Adam’s hand, a nervous, almost apologetic smile on his face. Even so, the live-stream comments were a firestorm of abuse for Liam: “Poor Adam. Having to film with the guy who stole his dream.” “That manufactured pretty-boy face of Liam’s makes me sick. How can a guy be so soft?” “Adam is such a good guy, greeting him like that. Liam has zero class.” “If it wasn’t for his face, what does Liam even have? Adam is better in every way!” I stood there, my face a blank mask, just watching Adam. He finally turned his friendly, practiced smile on me. “You must be Liam’s sister, right? I’m Adam Vance, and this is my sister, Zoe. She won the national youth dance championship last year.” At the mention of her title, Zoe’s chin lifted even higher. She shot me a dismissive look. “Oh, so Liam actually has a sister.” Adam added, a hint of pity in his voice, “Liam doesn’t like to talk about his family in public. It’s understandable if you didn’t know.” Zoe’s smirk widened. “Makes sense. When you get by on looks alone, I guess your family isn’t much to brag about.” 3 The Vance siblings were clearly here to start a war, and I wondered if the producers had put them up to it. The live-stream audience was eating it up. “Yeah, I couldn’t find anything online about Liam’s family.” “I saw some deep-dive posts saying his family is pretty average. Explains why he had to play the victim card to get famous and make money.” My brow furrowed slightly. Liam saw it and subtly pressed his hand on my arm. “Aria, just let it go. You don’t want to piss off the fans.” While we waited for the other contestants, Adam and Zoe kept up their attack, a machine gun of rapid-fire boasts. “The youth dance championship, you know what that is? Oh, right, I forgot you probably don’t dance. You wouldn’t have a clue.” “Honestly, winning the national title is just okay. My real goal is to win an international competition within five years.” The comments poured in: “Of course Adam’s sister is amazing too. Talent runs in the family.” “A dance champion! The irony, compared to a certain someone who got a top spot and can’t do anything.” “His sister isn’t even saying anything. Guess that family really is all looks and no substance.” Zoe was getting more and more smug. I suddenly turned to my brother. “Go get me a bottle of water.” Liam, ever the obedient little brother, nodded and went to find a staff member. The second he was out of earshot, I turned my dead-eyed gaze back to them. “Adam, was it?” I started, my voice flat. “Your sister is a dance champion. What about you? What are your credentials? Any titles? Awards?” I pulled out my phone and tapped open a search bar. “The only thing I can find about you online is a 12th-place finish on a reality show. For someone who loves to brag so much, if you had anything else, I’m sure you would have plastered it all over the internet by now.” Adam’s face went stiff. I then turned to Zoe. “The national youth dance championship? Which one? What division? What was the scale of the event? Because as far as I know, there are at least twenty ‘youth dance competitions’ held in this country every year, and more than half of them are less prestigious than your brother’s 12th-place finish.” Zoe was speechless. 4 Their faces cycled through shades of red and green, a truly hideous sight. I coolly looked away. Alright, Aria, take it easy. Don’t break the children. I was ready to call a truce, but they weren’t. Zoe, her eyes wide with defiance, shot back, “That’s because my brother is humble! Everyone knows he was way more talented than Liam on Idol Factor!” “Oh,” I said. She faltered, then took a deep breath. “I won the championship for Dance Fever last year. That’s a hell of a lot better than you and your brother, a pair of empty-headed pretty faces.” Dance Fever. I actually recognized the name. My nine-year-old niece had won it three years in a row. She’d skipped it last year, though, complaining that the judging was rigged. Zoe’s arrogant tone was starting to get on my nerves. I stood up and walked over to the nearest staffer, pointing a thumb back at her. The drone buzzed closer. “She’s making personal attacks. Isn’t your show going to do anything about that?” The staffer made a placating gesture. “This is a live broadcast. The production team can’t interfere during filming.” A slow, dawning realization spread across my face. “So, you don’t step in, even if someone is verbally abusive?” “Per the rules, we cannot intervene.” “I understand perfectly.” This simple exchange, however, sent the live-stream comments into a frenzy. “What is she doing? Tattling? Is she five? How pathetic!” “Just like her brother, always playing the victim.” “Okay, Zoe is a bit much, but at least she has actual talent. All this woman can do is whine to the staff?” “The producers obviously want them to fight. Tattling is useless. She looks like a clown.” “Only knows how to pull these cheap tricks behind people’s backs. At least Zoe is direct.” 5 By the time I rejoined the group, two more pairs of contestants had arrived. Zoe was still holding court, regaling everyone with tales of her competition glory. I listened for a moment, then casually remarked, “Dance Fever, huh? I think I remember that one.” Every head in the group swiveled toward me. Zoe’s triumphant smile faltered, but she still managed a smug, “Pretty impressive, right?” I offered a small, knowing smile. “I was invited, but I couldn’t make it.” “Why not?” “I was in Europe for The Monaco Grand Prix of Dance.” She was completely hooked now, her eyes widening in disbelief. “What place did you get?” Anyone in the dance world knew The Monaco Grand Prix was one of the most prestigious competitions on the planet. The comments flew across the screen: “She’s gotta be lying. Does she know how elite the Monaco Grand Prix is?” “The competitors are the best of the best from every country. If she’s that good, how is her brother such a dud?” I lifted my gaze, and with everyone waiting with bated breath, I said, my face a perfect deadpan, “Oh, I was on the judging panel.” Zoe just stared. The silence stretched for a full ten seconds. Finally, Zoe’s voice shot up, cracking. “You’re lying! You’re only in your twenties, there’s no way!” I tilted my head. “The Monaco Grand Prix has twelve different regional circuits. I was just a judge for one of them, not the grand finals.” Then, as if a thought just occurred to me, I glanced at the dumbstruck Adam and let out a small, sharp laugh. “Twelve regions. How funny. Just like your rank.” Adam looked like he’d been slapped. Zoe was practically vibrating with rage. “Impossible! You’re making it all up!” I looked at her like she was the dumbest person I’d ever met. “The list of judges is public record. You can look it up online.” I paused, then added sweetly, “Oh, and by the way, the name’s Aria. Aria Serrano.” 6 At first, the audience reacted just like Zoe. The comments were a wall of disbelief, calling me a liar and a braggart. Then, someone posted a screenshot. It was from the official website of The Monaco Grand Prix of Dance, showing the panel of judges for the sixth regional circuit. And there it was, nestled among a list of long, European-sounding names, was one that stood out for its simple elegance: Aria Serrano. “HOLY SHIT, SHE’S ACTUALLY A JUDGE.” “MY GOD, just competing in that is insane, but she was a JUDGE? How good is she?!” “Okay, she’s a badass, but Liam still can’t do anything. The fact is, he stole Adam’s spot. His sister’s talent doesn’t change that.” “Exactly. Don’t get distracted. Aria might be legit, but Liam still needs to get out of the industry.” “Am I the only one who thinks Aria’s insults are kind of hilarious? LOL, look at Adam’s face, it’s literally green.” “…” The discussion was cut short when Liam came trotting back, a bottle of water in his hand. He beamed at me. I took it from him, twisting the cap off with practiced ease. “What took you so long?” “They were short-handed setting up some equipment, so I gave them a hand.” “Oh. Well, everyone’s here now. Let’s go.” Only then did Liam look up and offer a cheerful greeting to the others. A moment later, he shuffled back to my side, whispering in what he thought was a quiet voice, “Sis, is it just me, or is the atmosphere a little… weird? What did you guys talk about while I was gone?” The venomous glares from both Adam and Zoe shot straight to me. I remained perfectly composed, tilting my head with an air of pure innocence. “Weird? What are you talking about? We’re all getting along swimmingly.” 7 By the time our group of eight contestants finally reached the resort lodge near noon, we were all exhausted. The lodge was huge, with a hotel-style front and orchards and a small farm out back. The production team led us inside and promptly vanished, leaving us to fend for ourselves for food and everything else. Based on last season, this was the moment where the contestants were supposed to delegate chores. Adam, ever the self-appointed leader, stood up with a warm, placating smile. “Zoe and I can handle the cooking. Kiki, could you and your mom go pick some vegetables from the garden? And Rick, would you and your girlfriend mind washing the rice and prepping the veggies?” Everyone was slumped on the sofas, worn out from the hike up the mountain, and nobody looked eager to move. Kiki, a young singer terrified of being labeled “lazy” by the online mob, forced a pained smile. “Okay.” Rick, a veteran actor who knew the reality show game, didn’t object either. Finally, Adam’s gaze fell on my brother and me. I was curled up on the sofa, completely engrossed in my phone. As a camera panned over, everyone clearly heard the crisp, feminine voice from my game: “Mahjong! I win!” “…” My brother sat bolt upright beside me, like a first-grader on his first day of school. When he saw Adam looking at us, he nudged me. “Aria, time to work.” I was on a winning streak and ignored him. He sighed and stood up, asking Adam, “Is there anything we can help with?” Adam’s expression softened slightly. “Could you two handle the dishes after lunch?” “Yes! A perfect hand!” I cheered, slapping my knee. Hearing his question, I answered without looking up. “Nope.” Adam’s brow furrowed. “Lunch is more meaningful when everyone contributes.” “Are you for real?” I shifted on the sofa and started a new game. “You eat to fill your stomach. The only reason these people are going along with you is because there are cameras here. If you tried pulling this crap at home, your own mother would smack you.” “…” 8 Adam was clearly struggling to keep his anger in check. “So you won’t even do something as simple as washing the dishes?” I shrugged. “If it’s so simple, you and your sister can do it.” He finally snapped. “Everyone else is doing their part. You’re just sitting there playing games. Don’t you feel the least bit guilty?” “Weren’t you the one assigning tasks this whole time?” I finally looked up at him, my face a mask of wide-eyed innocence. “You’re just banking on the fact that everyone else is too polite to say no. Stop with the moral grandstanding. I’m not burdened by a conscience.” “…” Seeing her brother flustered, Zoe marched over to confront me. “Aria, even if you’re some international superstar, you can’t just throw your weight around like this. You’re not doing a single thing. Are you just going to wait for everyone to cook and serve you a meal?” Liam, who had been trying to get me to stop, bristled at her accusation. “My sister’s not like that,” he mumbled defensively. The live-stream audience was in an uproar: “Aria’s attitude is disgusting.” “Is she really just going to wait for others to feed her?” “The Serrano siblings are such drama queens. Ugh!” Adam took a deep, steadying breath, his patience worn thin. “I’m not obligated to cook for you, either. If you refuse to help, then you can figure out your own lunch.” “Figure it out ourselves?” Liam panicked, looking at me with wide, desperate eyes. “Aria, I’ve never seen you cook in my life!” I stared back at him. “And can you wash dishes?” Before he could answer, I rolled my eyes. “You can’t even wash your own socks.” Liam fell silent. Having delivered his ultimatum, Adam herded the other contestants off to the kitchen. I, meanwhile, stayed comfortably nested on the sofa, resuming my game. About twenty minutes later, Kiki returned with a basket, looking dejected. “There are fish and chickens out back, but my mom and I have no idea how to catch them.” Adam glanced at the sad-looking pile of vegetables in her basket and offered a weak reassurance. “It’s fine. Vegetables are healthy.” He could say that, but when the table was set with nothing but a few bland, meatless dishes, no one knew where to start. Even so, Zoe couldn’t resist gloating. “Time to eat! My brother’s cooking is amazing, everyone dig in.” She then shot a pointed look at me and Liam. “Looks like some people will be going hungry today. So much for cutting off your nose to spite your face. They don’t deserve any pity.” Just as the words left her mouth, a voice called from outside. “Excuse me, delivery for an Aria Serrano?” I nudged my brother with my foot. “Go get it.” He looked completely bewildered. “Who is it, sis?” I was still lost in my game, not even bothering to look up. “Oh. DoorDash.” “…” 9 The dining table was massive, which only made the few plates of limp vegetables look even more pathetic. Liam and I started unpacking the delivery, and in moments, the entire table was covered. Fried chicken, pizzas, spicy noodle bowls—you name it, we had it. The second we opened the containers, the irresistible aroma filled the entire room. Zoe stared, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You can’t just order takeout!” I was already halfway through a piece of chicken. “Is there a rule against it?” She was speechless for a second. “No one on a reality show has ever ordered takeout before.” I took a huge gulp of soda and glanced at my brother. “Is that true?” He was delicately eating his noodles. “Yeah, it is, sis.” “So what? The producers don’t care.” Just then, I heard Kiki swallow hard. There was no way we could finish all this food, so I gestured to the others. “Hey, come on, join us.” Kiki looked at me, shocked. “Can we?” “Of course you can.” By the end, even Rick and his girlfriend had abandoned the vegetable table and joined our feast. Adam and Zoe’s faces were a picture of pure disgust, as if they’d just swallowed a fly. They glared at us, radiating waves of resentment. Finally, they couldn’t take it anymore and slammed their chopsticks down. “Aria, you’ve gone too far!” I elegantly wiped my mouth. “Whatever do you mean?” Zoe pointed a trembling finger at the mountain of uneaten takeout. “You ordered all this food just to win everyone over and spite us, didn’t you?” I was so done with her. I gave her a thumbs-up. “Some people just talk out of their ass for fun, but you’ve made it a goddamn art form.” My brother almost choked, his chopsticks clattering against his bowl. He reached out to grab my arm. “Aria, just stop…” But he forgot one crucial thing about me: once I’m full, I get bored. And when I get bored, I like to stir up trouble.

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