1 Four years into our marriage, my husband, Leo Williams, who never posts anything, broke his social media silence with a new story. 【What a greedy little kitten.】 The picture was of a girl wearing a pink cat-ear headband, her cheeks flushed red and tongue stuck out from the spice of the hot pot she was eating. It was Holly, the new streamer at his company. Less than a minute later, a comment from a mutual friend popped up: 【Bro, you forgot to switch accounts!】 And just like that, Leo’s new post vanished like a phantom. But it reappeared moments later on Holly’s own social media page. Then, his call came through. The old me would have already screenshotted it, called him first, and launched into a tirade. It would have ended in a screaming match, no question. But this time, I was thoughtful enough to let the call ring until it went to voicemail. … By the time Leo got home, I was nearly asleep on the sofa. He slipped off his jacket and bent down to change his shoes. “Why didn’t you answer my call?” Leo rarely prodded like this unless he knew, deep down, that he was in the wrong. “Fell asleep,” I mumbled without lifting my head. “Didn’t hear it.” “Had to work late unexpectedly. You don’t always have to wait up for me. You don’t have to make yourself so pathetic.” The old me would have shot back, insisting loudly that I did it because I loved him. But there was no point in arguing anymore. Leo handed me a square velvet box, gesturing for me to open it. Today was the day his company went public. To celebrate, I had done what I always did: left work early, bought groceries, cooked his favorite meal, and waited for him to come home. But I had waited half the night for a man who had promised he’d be home early, and he never came. I pretended not to notice the thick, greasy smell of hot pot clinging to his clothes as I took the box and set it aside on the coffee table. I’d seen this box before. The last time was when he’d missed my birthday. The logo, the floral pattern—it was identical. Leo stared at the box for a moment, his brow furrowing. His voice dropped. “Sienna, can you stop being so childish?” Buying me jewelry was Leo’s standard way of offering an olive branch. As long as I accepted the gift, the unpleasantness between us would be swept under the rug, never to be mentioned again. But this time, I had no intention of taking his olive branch. And that, naturally, made him angry. “Let me put it on for you.” Not giving me a chance to refuse, he opened the box and took out the bracelet inside. He reached for my wrist, but his hands froze when he saw the identical bracelet already clasped there. “Just leave it,” I said, pulling my hand back and rising from the sofa, ready for bed. “It’s late. We both have work tomorrow.” “I’ll have my assistant take you to pick out something new another day.” “No need,” I replied, my voice as cold as ice. 2 Perhaps out of guilt for the duplicate gift, Leo suggested we drive to the office together the next morning. My body ached, and I didn’t feel like driving, so I didn’t refuse. Leo stood in front of his car, his brow knitted so tightly the lines almost touched. At some point, he had started to despise me riding in his car, especially in the passenger seat. He’d even pushed me to buy my own car to avoid it. It was probably because I used to fight with him like a maniac over my right to that seat. He’d grown tired of it. But now, for Holly’s convenience, his car was a shrine to her. It was filled with cat-themed plush toys and decorated with cute, hand-drawn stickers. He’d even had the passenger seat professionally redesigned, just to make sure the petite Holly was perfectly comfortable. Seeing me waiting, however, he finally pulled the door open and started moving the mountain of plush toys to the back seat. Watching him go back and forth, I frowned. “You know what? I’ll just drive myself.” He tossed the last stuffed cat into the back. “No, let’s go together. Holly’s just… whimsical. She loves these little trinkets. Don’t mind them.” I stared at the pink, custom-fitted seat, a piece of a different world dropped jarringly into the car’s sleek interior. I refused. It was, I decided, deeply unsettling. I reached for my own car door, but Leo shot forward to block me, sliding into my driver’s seat instead. “I’ll drive. I said we’d go together.” I watched him for a long moment, not missing the flicker of discomfort in his eyes. So, he did know how inappropriate it was to transform his passenger seat for another woman. Leo looked like he wanted to explain, but I cut him off. “We’re going to be late. Just drive.” He pressed his lips into a thin line and started the car. While we were stopped at a red light, his phone rang. It was a custom ringtone, one I didn’t recognize. A pitiful, whiny voice came through the speaker, punctuated by faint sobs. “Leo… my tummy hurts so bad… I think it was something I ate yesterday. Can you please come take me to the hospital? Please, Leo? You’re the best.” After he hung up, Leo didn’t even glance at me. He didn’t say a word. He just yanked the steering wheel, pulled over to the curb, and quickly unbuckled my seatbelt for me. His tone was final, leaving no room for argument. “An employee isn’t feeling well. I have to go check on her. We’re almost at the office. You can walk the rest of the way.” I hadn’t even had time to close the door before he hit the gas and the car peeled away, leaving me standing in a cloud of exhaust. 3 Honestly, at this hour, almost no one walked to work. When the light turned green, the driver of an e-scooter, probably not expecting a pedestrian in the crosswalk, rounded the corner and slammed right into me. My hands, knees, and forehead were scraped up to varying degrees. The nurse cleaned my wounds, placed a large bandage on my forehead, and gave me instructions. “Try to keep it dry for the next few days. No baths. And apply this ointment on schedule.” I took a cab from the hospital to the office. The driver had two phones mounted on his dashboard. One was for navigation. The other was streaming Holly’s live broadcast. The comment section was flooded with messages of concern. “Aww, thank you all for caring so much! Your kitty is fine, I promise. It’s a good thing Leo got here so quickly! I don’t even need to go to the hospital anymore.” “Nooo, I haven’t confessed my feelings to him yet! Stop saying that, you guys! He’s sitting right here watching. Yes, he’s super, super sweet.” I looked down at my own phone. Two messages from Leo sat there, seething with anger and impatience. “My assistant said you missed the project planning meeting today. Where were you? Get to the office now.” “I ask you to walk a few blocks and you throw another one of your fits? What is wrong with you?” The hypocrisy was staggering. That evening, I had just finished applying ointment to my cuts and was curled up on the sofa watching TV. The sound of the front door’s keypad broke the silence, followed by Leo’s mocking voice. “And here I thought you’d finally learned your lesson. You’ve been so quiet these past few days. Turns out you were just waiting for this.” The TV must have been too loud for him, because he strode over and ripped the plug from the wall. “Sienna, do you have a brain in your head? We’ve been preparing for that project meeting for two weeks! Do you have any idea how much money the company loses when a project is delayed?” I looked up at his face, contorted with disgust. Then I saw him freeze. His gaze locked onto the bandage on my forehead, then traveled down to the raw scrapes on my hands and legs. He frowned. “What happened to you?” I broke his gaze, my voice casual. “It’s nothing. Just got hit by a vehicle on my way to work.” Leo’s eyes flickered, and a hint of guilt crossed his face. He stepped closer, trying to inspect my injuries. “Why didn’t you call me?” I flinched away from his touch, a humorless smirk on my face. “It’s just a scratch. Nothing important. I’m sure your employee was a higher priority.” Was there any point in calling him? He’d answer the phone and, without asking a single question, launch into a tirade of baseless accusations and complaints. Did he ever actually care what I had to say? He never came when I called before. Why would today be any different? My words stung him. He straightened up, a cold sneer on his face. “Sienna, do you have to be so sarcastic? It was wrong of me to leave you on the side of the road, I admit it. But are you a child? You can’t even walk down the street without getting hit by a car?” I stared at him, speechless. You see? Even a simple statement of fact was twisted into sarcasm, immaturity, a childish taunt. I had no intention of engaging with him. I got up and started for the bedroom. Noticing how much pain I was in as I walked, Leo’s expression softened slightly. He sighed and came over to help me. “I’ll sleep with you tonight. That way I can take care of you.” It had been a long time since Leo had come to bed before midnight. Holly had claimed that the constant harassment from viewers on her stream was making her anxious, that she was afraid of becoming depressed. She insisted he stay with her during her broadcasts. So every night, Leo would go to his study, half-working, half-watching her stream. He would frequently join her on camera for a “sweet interaction.” I had fought with him about it, cried, screamed—nothing changed his mind. Leo was adamant that it was “just work.” He finally threatened me with divorce, and I had no choice but to back down. I didn’t refuse his offer. But as he reached out to pull me into his arms, I spoke softly. “Leo, let’s get a divorce.”

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The annual company gala was just around the corner, and a memo dropped: every department had to perform. The moment the news hit, our department’s group chat exploded. 【I signed up for a job, not a circus.】 【Why should we have to dance like monkeys for our corporate overlords?】 I pleaded with them. 【Come on, guys. I just got every single one of you a ten-thousand-dollar bonus and a week of paid vacation. Can you just help me out on this one?】 【That’s a separate issue. Don’t think just because you’re the manager and you throw us a few scraps, you can order us around!】 【Yeah, what she said! Let’s all just quit! Time for Gen Z to fix this toxic workplace!】 And so, I signed their resignation letters. “You want to quit? Fine. Approved.” 1 【To my dearest team: Per upper management’s request, the annual gala will feature a talent competition between departments, with prizes for the winning teams. Please feel free to share any and all ideas for our department’s performance.】 After sending the message, I waited, my stomach in knots. Ten minutes passed. The chat remained a digital graveyard. 【Look, I know getting on stage is a big ask for some of you,】 I typed, trying a softer approach. 【But it’s a directive from the top, so we don’t have much of a choice. How about we do something simple, like a group poetry reading?】 【I’m not aiming for any awards. We just need to get through this. There are a lot of us, so each person would only have to say a line or two. What do you think?】 After another agonizing silence, a single message broke the stillness. 【I’m here to work, not to be part of a talent show.】 That one sentence was a stone tossed into a still pond, and the ripples turned into a tidal wave. 【Exactly. We’re employees, not court jesters for a bunch of soulless suits.】 【Even zoos have banned animal performances. Are we supposed to be less than animals, parading around for their amusement?】 【I’m not a monkey. I’m not doing it.】 【Me neither!】 【Count me out!】 … I kept my cool, patiently trying to reason with them. 【This performance is a chance to showcase our department’s teamwork and unity, to show the higher-ups what we’re made of. I hope you won’t see it as a burden.】 【Ariel, if you want to go up there and sing a solo, be my guest. Just don’t drag us down with you.】 【I’m completely tone-deaf,】 I admitted, 【and the company requires full participation. But don’t worry, I’ll be right up there on stage with you all.】 【Slaving away nine-to-five is exhausting enough. Now we have to play the dancing monkey after hours to entertain the bosses?】 【What a garbage idea for a gala. No way I’m making a fool of myself like that.】 They spoke without a shred of restraint, completely ignoring the fact that I, their manager, was in the chat, reading every word. An icy chill crept from my heart out to my fingertips. I had expected some grumbling, but I never imagined such vehement opposition. Still, an order was an order. It had to be done. Left with no other choice, I humbled myself, practically begging. 【I’m just a worker bee like you guys. Please, don’t make this impossible for me.】 【I sympathize, Ariel, I really do. But sorry, I’m not getting on that stage.】 【Please, guys… think about the week-long, all-expenses-paid vacation I got for you, and the ten-thousand-dollar bonus for each of you. Just do this one thing for me. As a favor. Please?】 2 Though I was a department manager, I never pulled rank. I treated my team like friends, always going to bat for them, fighting for every possible perk and bonus. In the first half of the year, I’d secured that paid vacation for the entire department. In the second half, I’d wrangled a $10,000 bonus for every single person. These were benefits no other department received, extras that I had fought tooth and nail with the CEO for days to get. I knew their jobs were demanding, so I seized every opportunity to reward their hard work. Honestly, compared to other managers in the company, I was as good as it got. I believed that by fostering a friendship with my subordinates, they’d be more cooperative at work. I was wrong. 【That was then, this is now,】 one message read. 【Don’t think just because you’re the manager and you do us a few ‘favors,’ you can just boss us around!】 The person who sent that, Cassie, had once accidentally sent a client our internal cost sheet instead of the official price quote, a mistake that cost the company a fortune. The board wanted her fired. She came to my office, sobbing, begging me to intervene. At the management meeting, I took full responsibility. I offered up my entire year-end bonus to give her a second chance. I vividly remember how she cried with gratitude after the official penalty was announced, swearing she’d look up to me like an older sister forever. 【Yeah, you chose to fight the boss for that bonus. We didn’t force you. That’s your job. Stop acting like you’re doing us some grand charity.】 This came from Leo. He came from a poor family, and during his internship, his meager salary barely covered his rent, let alone the money he sent home for his father’s medical bills. To save money, he’d hide away at lunch to eat dry bread. When I found out, I started ordering him a proper meal every day, paying for it out of my own pocket. I covered his lunch for his entire final year of internship. He never once said thank you. And now, he had the gall to say something so cruel. 【That vacation and bonus were what we deserved for our hard work. It wasn’t a handout from you.】 And this from Audrey. She’d gone through a nasty divorce, and her ex-husband’s family had shown up at the office to cause a scene. She hid in my office, terrified, while I went out and faced them down. I even got a resounding slap across the face from her ex for my troubles. After the divorce, when she had nowhere to go, I let her stay with me for over six months. All my kindness, all my support… what did it get me? A bloody, brutal knife in the back. A sharp pain, like a needle piercing my chest, made my hand tremble as I held my phone. 【If you make me perform, I’ll quit!】 【That’s right! We’ll all quit! We’ll show these capitalists that the little guys have teeth!】 【I support this! Gen Z is here to fix the workplace!】 My fingers shaking, I typed out a single sentence. 【But you’re putting me in an impossible position.】 【Then you go talk to the execs, Ariel! Tell them we refuse to perform! Fight them just like you fought for our bonuses! Yell at the CEO! He’ll cave and cancel the whole thing!】 Each heartless word was like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head, chilling me to the bone. I took a deep, shuddering breath and closed my eyes, forcing myself to find some semblance of calm. If they had no regard for me, then I had no reason to indulge them any longer. I replied: 【I am not going to pick a fight with the CEO over something so trivial. The gala performance is happening. Every single person is required on stage. No exceptions, no excuses.】 3 After sending that message, I walked out of my office and found a quiet corner on the rooftop to sit. Of all the department managers in this company, I was the only one who ran my team this way. The others were all martinets, ruling with an iron fist, barking orders, and using performance metrics as a weapon. Their departments were pressure cookers of anxiety, where employees tiptoed around in fear of making the smallest mistake. But not mine. I had always been gentle, cultivating a relaxed and cheerful atmosphere. I never held metrics over their heads. When our team achieved something, I was the first to bang on the CEO’s door demanding rewards. When someone made a mistake, I would rather take the hit myself than see them punished. If someone needed time off, I always approved it. I never, ever asked them to work overtime if a task could be completed during work hours. They were my subordinates, yes, but I treated them like my friends. We worked together, we joked together, and I genuinely cared for them. Sometimes, even the CEO, Nolan, couldn’t stand it. “There’s an old saying, Ariel,” he’d warned me. “Give them an inch, and they’ll take a mile. The kinder you are, the more entitled they’ll feel. Be careful they don’t walk all over you one day.” Back then, I didn’t believe a word of it. I even argued back. “No way, Nolan. I believe people are fundamentally good. Kindness begets kindness.” Today, I finally learned the truth. Kindness does not always beget kindness. In their eyes, your kindness is weakness. Your compassion is an invitation to be exploited. In their minds, your position as manager automatically places you on the opposite side of the battlefield. How stupid I was. I let out a bitter laugh. So, so stupid. The sun was too bright, making my eyes water. I tried to wipe the tears away, but they just kept coming, soaking the palm of my hand. My phone buzzed incessantly in my pocket. The group chat was still lighting up. I pulled it out. They were now seriously discussing a mass resignation. The ringleader was a Gen Z girl, Iris Quinn. 【Hah, calls herself one of us? A ‘worker bee’? Look at her now, toeing the corporate line. Helping the boss push us around.】 【See? I told you her ‘niceness’ was all an act! She plays the good guy to win people over, but the second there’s a problem, she throws us under the bus! The mask is off!】 【Her Majesty is tired of this pathetic job. I quit.】 【This is just heartbreaking. I’m out too.】 【Let’s all walk out together. We’ll see how the company functions without us.】 I scanned the chat history. It was Iris who first brought up the idea of a mass resignation, and she was the one fanning the flames. It was also her who sent the first inflammatory message after my initial announcement: 【I’m here to work, not to be part of a talent show.】 I remembered her. A young girl, fresh out of college. She’d flubbed her first interview, she was so nervous. She had begged me for another chance, and my heart softened. I arranged a second interview for her, and that’s how she got the job. Because she was so young, I’d always looked out for her, even running interference and taking drinks for her at company functions. I never thought that the same girl who called me “sis” every day would be the first to plunge the knife into my back. And then encourage everyone else to give it a twist. You really can’t judge a book by its cover. And so, I typed one last message into the group chat. 【Fine. For those of you resigning, please submit your formal letters.】 The chat went dead silent. They probably expected me to do what I always did: coax them, plead with them, give them an easy way out. They thought I would march into the CEO’s office and fight their battle, forcing him to cancel the performance. That would have been their victory. But they never, ever imagined that this time, I had no intention of playing their game. 4 As I walked back from the rooftop, I could hear the commotion from my office before I even reached the door. “So we quit! What’s the big deal? It’s time for us worker bees to unite and fight back against these ridiculous rules!” It was Iris, riling everyone up again. I frowned. What was she trying to achieve by pushing everyone to quit? What was in it for her if the entire department walked out? Another, more timid voice piped up. “I don’t know… quitting over something like this seems a bit extreme. I actually like my job here.” Iris’s voice boomed. “What are you afraid of? Ariel is just bluffing. She’d never dare to actually sign off on our resignations. We’re just calling her bluff, threatening her.” “How can you be so sure she won’t sign them?” “Trust me. I know Ariel. She’ll come groveling, begging us to stay. Think about it: if we all leave, who’s going to do her work? The department will grind to a halt, the higher-ups will come down on her, and she’ll be the one getting fired.” “She’s right. Ariel can’t afford to lose us. The company can’t afford it either!” “Let’s all hand in our letters together! That’ll scare the hell out of them!” Amid the roar of righteous indignation, a softer female voice emerged. “Actually… I don’t think we should be doing this. Manager Shaw has always been really good to us.” I was taken aback. I never expected anyone to speak up for me at a time like this. “She’s one of them, a corporate stooge! All that ‘goodness’ is fake, just a way to manipulate us. Julie, don’t let her get in your head.” “No, that’s not true! Think about it. Our department gets better bonuses and more perks than anyone else in the company. Those are real benefits. If she was just faking it, why would she go out of her way to piss off the CEO and fight for us?” “That’s her job as a manager, isn’t it?” “Have you all forgotten? The team-building hike last year? She bought every single one of us a pair of expensive running shoes with her own money. And on Valentine’s Day, she gave us all the day off against the CEO’s direct orders and got chewed out for it.” A warmth spread through my chest, chasing away the chill. My eyes began to sting. “And this year,” Julie’s voice grew thick with emotion, “she got us that ten-thousand-dollar bonus. Last year it was six thousand. Nobody else in the company gets that. If she didn’t genuinely care about us, why would she do all that extra work?” “She benefits too, obviously! When we get bonuses, she probably gets a bigger one. She’s not doing it for us, she’s doing it for herself.” “That’s not true! She doesn’t get a cut of those bonuses. They’re only for us. I overheard her telling the CEO that she didn’t want a bonus for herself, she just wanted the company to give more to her staff. You can ask someone in finance if you don’t believe me.” I was deeply moved. Julie Reed. The quiet girl who always sat in the corner, a virtual unknown. It turned out she was the only one who had been paying attention, the only one who remembered everything I’d done. Iris turned on her. “What’s your point, Julie? We bust our asses all year, and now we’re being forced to perform like circus animals for the bosses. You think that’s fair?” Julie was flustered. “That’s not what I mean! Ariel said everyone who performs gets a prize, and she’d even give us extra cash from her own pocket. I just think… getting on stage for a few minutes isn’t that big of a deal.” “Looks like you’ve been brainwashed so long you can’t even stand up straight anymore.” “Ariel is just an employee, too! If we have a problem, we should take it up with the CEO. Why are we making her life miserable? It’s his order, she can’t defy it!” “She’s in that position, she gets that salary, so she has to deal with our pushback!” “Yeah! Pushback! Pushback!” As the chants of protest reached a fever pitch, I walked in as if nothing was wrong and calmly took my seat at the head of the conference table. My gaze swept across the room. My voice was cold steel. “For those of you who wish to resign, I’m accepting your letters now.” 5 They had never seen me like this, so stern and unyielding. Fear and confusion flickered in their eyes. “I’m quitting!” Iris Quinn stepped forward from the crowd, slapping a piece of paper onto the table in front of me. “This company has no respect for its employees. It’s inhumane. I wouldn’t want to work here anyway.” “Good for you. Points for having a spine.” I picked up her resignation letter and looked at the others. “Anyone else?” “Don’t be afraid, everyone! Even if we leave, the world is a big place!” The others exchanged uncertain glances, hesitating. Iris’s voice rose again. “Don’t worry! My uncle just started a new company. It’s brand new, and they’re desperate for people. The pay and benefits are way better than here! If we really get fired, I can get all of you jobs at my uncle’s company.” Her words were like a magic pill, calming their frayed nerves. A flicker of understanding sparked in my mind. I finally understood why Iris was so eager to incite a mass exodus. I said nothing, just watched her with a faint, knowing smile. My stare seemed to unnerve her. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple, but she stood her ground. “Don’t be scared, everyone! Show some backbone! They won’t dare fire all of us!” Her words ignited their passion once more. “I quit!” “Me too!” One by one, the resignation letters piled up on my desk. After everyone else had submitted theirs, one last person slowly shuffled forward. “Julie, you’re quitting too?” “Manager Shaw… I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to pressure you…” I waved a hand dismissively. “You don’t have to explain. I know.” Iris stood there, wearing a triumphant smirk. “Well, Ariel? All of us have resigned now. What are you going to tell the CEO?” “That’s not your concern.” Cassie couldn’t help but chime in. “Manager Shaw, we’re not trying to force your hand. All we want is for you to cancel the gala performance. That’s a simple request. Surely you can do that for us?” I chuckled. “Oh, I can. But I don’t want to.” A flicker of panic crossed Cassie’s face. “Why not?” “Because you’re not worth it.” A notification pinged on my phone. I glanced at it, then neatly stacked the pile of resignation letters, stood up, and walked out of the room. I tried to project an aura of calm control, but no one knew that the moment I stepped out of that office, my knees nearly gave out. The message was from the CEO. And everyone knows the CEO Law of Texting: the shorter the message, the deeper the trouble you’re in. His text had only two words: 【My office.】 Seeing those two words, my vision swam. A single thought screamed through my mind: “I’m screwed.” What was I going to tell him? How could I possibly explain this? I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself. And then, an idea began to form.

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1 At the university’s centennial gala, I ran into my first love, Seraphina Gilbert. After giving her speech as the alumni representative, she turned to me in front of everyone and held up a diamond ring. “You once said you would make me a wedding ring from a thorned rose. Now, it’s my turn to propose. “Evan, will you marry me?” The auditorium erupted. Everyone was waiting for me to nod tearfully, to say yes. After all, my pursuit of her back in the day had been the stuff of campus legend. But they seemed to have forgotten. They forgot that my senior thesis project had been exposed for plagiarizing Julian Croft. They forgot that Seraphina, who knew the truth, had publicly accused me of being the plagiarist. At the press conference, as the representative for the brand that was sponsoring my project, she had announced the termination of our contract and called for me to be blacklisted by the entire industry. The day my name was dragged through the mud, I fled the country. Now that I was back, her friends were all trying to persuade me. “Sera has been waiting for you all these years. Even after you humiliated her, you were still the only one in her heart. She even stormed the dean’s office, fighting to get you your diploma. Evan, she truly loves you.” “Can you put your phone down and give me an answer?” Seeing that I was completely unfazed by her words, Seraphina’s friend, Summer, was getting annoyed. I calmly set my phone down and met her gaze. “Sera may come from a wealthy family, but she hates it when people treat her differently because of it. Even though her father is on the Board of Trustees, she never used his position for her own gain. But for your diploma, she raised hell in the dean’s office! She almost got a formal demerit on her record! “Evan, do you even have a heart? Do you feel nothing at all?” Summer spoke with a righteous indignation, as if my lack of emotion was a cardinal sin. I frowned slightly, glancing around. The other alumni who had been watching the spectacle quickly looked away, pretending to be busy, but their ears were clearly still tuned in. The plagiarism scandal had been huge. So huge that even seven years later, I could still see the disdain and mockery on the faces of these onlookers. Today was no different. I had just been heading backstage to prepare for the gala when Summer intercepted me with this barrage of nonsense. I didn’t know if she was doing this out of loyalty to her friend, angry that I had disappeared without a word seven years ago, or if she had been sent on a mission. But to me, none of it mattered anymore. I sighed softly. “What am I supposed to feel? It’s all in the past.” My answer clearly wasn’t the one Summer was expecting. Her brow furrowed as she stared at me, completely baffled. I understood her confusion. During our freshman year, my three-month, all-out pursuit of Seraphina had been the talk of the entire university. When I found out she loved watching the stars from the observatory, I went to incredible lengths to find a meteorite fragment and personally craft it into a star-shaped necklace for her. To spend more time with her, I risked disciplinary action for breaking curfew, camping out at the law library for three straight months, just so I could “coincidentally” run into her and walk her home after her late-night study sessions. One stormy night, I heard she had a fever. I scaled the campus wall to buy her medicine and ended up fracturing my right hand. When she asked about it, I just laughed and said I was testing the limits of human endurance. Seraphina knew exactly why my hand was in a cast, but she quietly listened to my ridiculous lies. That was the day she agreed to be my girlfriend. After we got together, she gave me a matching moon bracelet, saying we were a perfect pair, destined for each other. To stop my “coincidental” late-night encounters, she gave up her habit of studying at the library after dark. And to make sure I, with my broken hand, could still eat my favorite sweet and sour ribs, this heiress who never set foot in the cafeteria, braved the greasy, crowded hall to wait in line for me. Each of these small gestures took root in my heart, growing into a towering tree. I thought this tree of love would blossom and bear fruit. But the appearance of Julian Croft caused it to wither and die. At first, Seraphina was clear: Julian was just a business arrangement, an arranged marriage prospect forced on her by her father. She told me I was the only one in her heart. As the sole heiress to her family’s fortune, she had the power to refuse anything she didn’t want, and she told me not to worry. I believed her. I never saw Julian as a threat. But then, she started being late for our dates. She started forgetting our anniversaries. After she began to take over her family’s business, she was frequently seen with Julian at high-profile events, completely unconcerned by the suggestive headlines in the news. After I protested, she pulled back a little. But then I saw a new report: a photo of her adjusting Julian’s shirt backstage at a jewelry exhibition. On Valentine’s Day, she promised to make it up to me, but then she stood me up for an “emergency meeting.” I waited at the revolving restaurant until closing time, only to see Julian post a photo on his Instagram story. It was a selfie of him and Seraphina, sitting side-by-side in business class, smiling for the camera. Looking at the flood of congratulatory comments beneath the picture, I lost all courage to even confront her. The next day, Seraphina came to the design department with my favorite mint milk. Seeing my red, swollen eyes, she showed no concern. Instead, she slammed the bottle down on the table, her patience gone. “Evan, I have promised you so many times that you’re the one in my heart. Julian and I are just compatible business partners. Is it really necessary for you to cry over this endlessly? Don’t you understand? When you’re like this, I can’t breathe!” Tears welled in my eyes. I looked down and asked, “I never even said why I was crying. Are you admitting you’ve been getting close to Julian?” Seraphina froze, her brow tightening. “You’re being impossible!” 2 That fight was ugly. All the students who had never supported us took the opportunity to kick me while I was down. Gold digger, social climber, manipulator—every nasty label they could think of was thrown at me. I was worthless. For the next week, I didn’t contact Seraphina. In the end, it was Summer who played peacemaker, telling each of us a different story to get us in the same room. The moment I saw Seraphina, my first instinct was to leave. But it seemed she had composed herself over the past week. She blocked my path with a wide smile, and before I could protest, she pulled me into a hug in front of all her friends. “Don’t be angry anymore. I know I was wrong.” I tried to pull away, but a cold chain settled around my neck. “A belated Valentine’s gift,” she whispered. “I made it myself. It’s a set with the star necklace you gave me.” Her gentle voice, the exquisite gift—it soothed my wounded heart. As my anger subsided, I was willing to talk. I pulled out my phone, showing her the news articles, Julian’s Instagram story. “You said you were just business partners. Do business partners need to be so physically intimate?” With one arm still around my waist, she took my phone. “Oh, that was a huge misunderstanding! He said he thought there was a stain on his shirt and asked me to check so he wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of the reporters. I didn’t even touch him! You know I have bad eyesight, honey. I just leaned in a little to see.” A smile was already forming on my face, but I pressed on. “And the Instagram post? You lied about a meeting and went to dinner with him. How do you explain that?” Seraphina turned me to face her, cupping my face in her hands and placing a soft, reverent kiss on my lips. “Honey, I swear, the client changed the meeting time at the last minute. It was Julian who insisted we go to dinner. He said his stomach hurt because he hadn’t eaten all day.” I playfully slapped her hands away, but I couldn’t hold back my smile any longer. I was about to let it go with a light warning when the door opened and Julian walked in. He came straight towards me, his eyes already red. “Summer told me you two were fighting because of me, so I rushed right over. Evan, I know Sera and I have a marriage arrangement, but we’re just friends. If it really bothers you that much, I can ask my father to speak with Mr. Gilbert. We can call off the engagement. I’ll even leave the country so I’m not in your way.” It must have been raining hard outside, because he was soaked. After his dramatic speech, he shed a few tears and turned to leave. I clearly saw a flash of pity in Seraphina’s eyes. She let go of me and hurried after him. Right there, in front of me, she used her bare hands to wipe the water from his face. Her friends, seeing me standing there with a dark expression, started whispering among themselves, their words dripping with criticism for me, accusing me of being a bully. Julian shot a timid glance in my direction. In that moment, I felt like I was the one who should be leaving. That night, I barely ate two bites before saying I felt unwell and leaving. I thought Seraphina would stay to comfort Julian, but she ran out into the rain after me, grabbing my arm. She pulled me into the nearest coffee shop, placed a hot drink in my hands, then ran back out into the storm to buy a towel to wrap around me. “Evan, don’t be mad at me. Julian’s family is extremely strict. If I really let him go home and ask his father to break off the engagement, he would face severe punishment. I only see him as a friend, that’s why I’m a little more protective of him. Don’t overthink it. My heart and my eyes are only for you.” Seeing me shiver, she sat closer, hugging me tightly and rubbing my hands to warm them. Even as my heart wrestled with doubt, her meticulous care convinced me to quell my fears and trust her again. But in the end, she betrayed that trust. After that day, Julian became a constant, blatant presence by her side. They discussed business strategies, jewelry exhibitions—they were so in sync they looked like a perfect couple. It wasn’t just the other students; even I started to believe they were dating. Julian certainly acted the part. He came to me with the swagger of a victor. “Evan, Sera sees me as a friend now. Soon, she’ll see me as a lover. Just you wait.” I couldn’t find the words to argue back. I just watched him walk away, a triumphant smirk on his face. 3 It was a weekend. Seraphina had told me she was going to play badminton with her friends to relax. I called her last minute and asked her to come see me. She was furious. “Didn’t I tell you I was playing badminton? Now I have to flake on my friends. It makes me look so bad!” I was full of anger myself. My voice was sharp as I told her everything Julian had said. Hearing this only made her attitude worse. “You dragged me all the way over here for this? How many times do I have to promise you that Julian and I are just friends? Evan, do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be in a relationship with you? At this point, should I just get your permission before I even breathe? Would that make you happy?” “You don’t believe me?” Her words cut deep. I bit my lip, my eyes filling with tears. Seraphina met my gaze, and after a long moment, she sighed. “Okay, look. I get it. Insecurity is a common problem for guys. If you don’t like Julian, I’ll find a chance to make things clear with him. But Evan, I’m begging you, can you please stop tormenting me over this? The pressure from my dad is already immense. I finally get a little time to relax. Can you please just give me a break?” It was almost graduation. Her father was forcing her to give up her passion for law and take over the family’s jewelry business. The two of them were in a cold war over it. Her father already disliked me, so I couldn’t offer much advice. All I could do was give her space. “I’m going to be very busy with graduation coming up,” she said. “Let’s not talk for a while.” Then, she turned and walked away. Watching her back retreat, a chill spread through me. For the first time, I had the thought: she wasn’t worth it. For a long time after that, she didn’t contact me. But I would often see her and Julian studying together late at night in the library. I even found out from Summer that she had decided to give up law and go abroad to study jewelry design. The next time I saw her was when my senior thesis project was selected by Elysian Jewels. They wanted to sign a contract with me for mass production. But as we were about to sign, a mob of reporters suddenly surrounded me, cameras shoved in my face. “Mr. Fang, we’ve received a tip that your graduation project is a plagiarism of Julian Croft’s work. Is this true?” I was stunned. I backed away, trying to explain. “No, I didn’t! You’re slandering me!” Just then, Julian appeared, his eyes red-rimmed as he accused me. “Evan, you’ve copied my designs for your homework before, and I let it slide. But this project… the ‘Thorned Rose’ collection… I designed it specifically for Sera’s birthday. She even helped me revise it. How can you still lie and say you didn’t copy it?” Instantly, all the cameras turned to Seraphina, waiting for her answer. I looked at her too. Seraphina avoided my gaze. She spoke to the cameras, her voice clear. “The ‘Thorned Rose’ was indeed Julian’s idea. I saw him drawing the designs with my own eyes when we were studying together at night.” I was frozen solid. I walked toward her through the blinding flashes, stared into her eyes, and asked, “Are you sure I’m the one who plagiarized?”

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1 My wife, Vivian, lost a herd of cattle while she was out grazing them, leaving us with a fifty-thousand-dollar debt. I loved her, so I spent three years pinching every penny, working every odd job I could find, until I finally scraped the money together. But when I arrived, holding the stack of wrinkled, hard-earned bills, ready to pay off Vivian’s boss, I saw her. She was locked in a passionate kiss with Leonard, her childhood friend. The boss, a man named Miller, was standing beside them, practically groveling as he offered Vivian a drink. “Ms. Hawthorne,” he said, his voice slick with deference, “your husband will be here any minute with the money. Should I take it?” Vivian, still wrapped in Leonard’s arms, laughed. “Of course, you should. Why wouldn’t you?” She stroked Leonard’s cheek. “I just bought Leonard that five-million-dollar ranch down in the valley. A little fifty-thousand-dollar top-up will be nice, don’t you think?” My world tilted. In a daze, I pulled out my phone and searched for the company that had just purchased the ranch. The legal owner listed was one Vivian Hawthorne. Her corporation was valued at over a billion dollars. I covered my face, hot tears seeping through the cracks of my calloused fingers. A year ago, she told me she’d lost a herd of prime cattle in a freak accident and owed fifty thousand dollars in damages. I’d emptied my savings, sold our family’s small plot of land, and worked myself to the bone for three years to pay it back. And now I find out that the company I was paying, the one holding me in debt, was her company all along. Miller was still fawning over her. “You’re brilliant, Ms. Hawthorne. Not only do you not have to give Ethan a dime, but you’ve trained him to be as loyal as a dog.” He chuckled. “I heard when you pretended to be lost in that blizzard on the mountain, he crawled for miles up the pass on his knees, praying for you. Hahaha.” I squeezed my eyes shut, the pain in my heart sharp and blinding. On her company’s website, there were photos of her and Leonard, laughing as they skied on that very same mountain. She’d told me she was trapped by a sudden blizzard while herding. I’d nearly lost my feet to frostbite searching for her, digging through snow until my hands were raw. When I couldn’t find her, I’d made a desperate pilgrimage, crawling up that mountain road on bleeding knees, praying to the old spirits of the plains to bring her back safely. And it was all a lie. A sick, twisted game. Vivian took the drink from Miller, her voice careless. “What else can peasants like him do for me, besides pray to their dirt gods?” How could she mock the faith of my ancestors, the only thing I had left? A fresh wave of pain washed over me, and I stumbled, knocking against the doorframe. Leonard spotted me first. “Well, look who’s here, Miller. The money has arrived.” By the time I stepped inside, Vivian had already composed her face into a mask of timid helplessness. “Honey, you’re here! I was just asking Mr. Miller for my paycheck.” I never knew she was such a good actress. Miller leered at her. “I’d rather not pay a broke-ass woman like you. And you,” he sneered at me, “did you bring the fifty grand?” I clutched the strap of my satchel, the weight of three years of sacrifice heavy inside it. Vivian saw me hesitate and put a comforting arm around me. “Honey, I know you’ve worked so hard. We’ll make more money. Once we move the herds to the summer pastures, I promise, we’ll build a good life together.” I stared at the ceiling, fighting back tears. She bought the ranch for Leonard, which meant I had to move my small herd, the one I was raising to pay her debt. We were forced to wander, the sun and wind beating down on us day after day. The animals grew thin, and I couldn’t get a good price for them. I’d had to beg, to grovel, to endure countless humiliations just to scrape together that fifty thousand. And now, she wanted to take it all. But the debt was real, and the IOU had my name on it. Swallowing my pride, I handed over the money. Miller counted it, a look of dissatisfaction on his face. “It’s been three years. There’s thousands in interest, you know. You didn’t bring the interest.” He grinned maliciously. “But tell you what. My friend Leonard here is feeling generous. Get on your knees and apologize to him, and I’ll forget about the interest.” I looked at the smug faces around the room, a pack of wolves enjoying their kill. A tear slid down my cheek. Humiliated, I knelt, my forehead hitting the floor with a dull thud. “Hahaha! Look at the poor fool!” Miller roared. “Crawl over there and kiss the sole of Leonard’s boot, and I’ll give you two hundred bucks!” Vivian crouched down beside me. “Honey, just do it. It’s two hundred dollars. We could use that for the move to the summer pastures.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I scrambled to my feet, ready to flee. But Miller kicked my legs out from under me, sending me sprawling. “Looks like you need to be taught a lesson!” He grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face down, pressing my cheek against the dirt-caked leather of Leonard’s boot. The room erupted in laughter. Tears of shame streamed down my face. Back in the simple tent that served as my home, I signed the divorce papers. I had to leave. I looked around at the barren space. For three years, I had lived in this tent because we had no money. I remembered one night, a fierce gale had ripped the tent from its moorings, sending me tumbling across the plains. Meanwhile, Vivian was in her luxurious penthouse apartment, comforting a frightened Leonard. He had pointed out the window and said, “It’s so scary when a storm hits a flimsy place.” The next day, she transferred three hundred thousand dollars to his account, and he began construction on a new luxury guesthouse. At the time, I’d just marveled at how much money Leonard’s family must have. Now I knew the truth. It was my wife who paid for it all. And I, like a fool, had spent my days mucking out stalls for pennies, saving for three months just to buy her a pair of warm gloves. 2 The next day, I saw those gloves on the paws of Leonard’s Tibetan Mastiff. All those years of love, all that sacrifice—it was all a lie. I finished packing my few belongings. Vivian finally showed up, looking unconcerned when she saw my bags. She probably thought I was just preparing for the move to the summer pastures. She held out a piece of fried chicken. “Honey, I brought this for you.” Any other time, I would have hugged her, overcome with gratitude, and insisted she take half. Now, I just felt a profound, aching confusion. Why? Why had she treated me like this for so long? I remembered the calf I was raising to sell for her debt. It had gotten frostbite, and I’d stayed up all night, holding it against my own body to keep it warm, nursing it back to health. The next day, Vivian slaughtered it and made beef jerky for Leonard. I remembered walking ten miles every day to haul water for extra cash, my feet covered in bloody blisters. That same week, Vivian paid to have the entire dirt road to Leonard’s family property paved with asphalt because he’d tripped and scraped his knee. I used to think her devotion to him was just a local custom, something to do with them being childhood friends. Now, looking at her face, her mask of feigned love, I finally asked the question I’d been too afraid to ask for years. “After the bonfire festival that year… why did you get so angry with me?” Everything changed that night. Now that I was leaving, I needed to know why. Vivian’s face tightened, a vein throbbing in her temple. “Shut up!” she screamed. She grabbed a mug of coffee from the small table and hurled it at me. It shattered against my forehead. Blood trickled down my face. Vivian froze, a flicker of shock in her eyes. “Why didn’t you dodge…?” she whispered. Before she could say more, her phone buzzed. A message from Leonard. Just like every other time, she turned and left without another word, abandoning me for him. I wiped the blood from my eyes and silently loaded my handmade crafts onto my bicycle. I used to have a white horse named Snowdrift, a gift from my mother. I’d sold him to help pay Vivian’s debt. Now, to make ends meet, I had to pedal to the market. The bus would be here in three days. That’s when I would leave for good. Today, I just needed to clear out my remaining stock. I had just laid out my blanket when I saw them. Vivian was leading a horse, with Leonard riding proudly on its back. “Vivi, thank you for the horse!” Leonard chirped. “Another fine addition to the ranch you gave me.” I looked closer. My breath caught in my throat. The horse he was riding was Snowdrift. She had bought back the horse my mother gave me, only to give it to Leonard. Vivian smiled, ruffling Leonard’s hair. “Anything for you, Leonard. You know I’d buy you the world.” Then she saw me, and her smile vanished. “What are you doing here?” A bitter wave of nausea washed over me. What was I doing here? I was here, breaking my back for three years, earning money for her fake debt, and she didn’t even know. Leonard noticed my stall. “Oh, Vivi,” he said with a smirk, “I forgot to tip the stable boy for saddling up my new horse.” He gestured to the small pile of cash in my collection tin. “That looks like just enough.” Vivian snatched the money from my stall. When I tried to stop her, she shoved me to the ground. “If it weren’t for Leonard, Miller would have charged you interest. What’s the big deal if I take a little of your money?” She turned and started handing my earnings out to the other vendors as “tips” from Leonard. He stood over me, his expression triumphant. I only had eyes for Snowdrift. His intelligent, dark eyes were fixed on me, full of a sad recognition. “Recognize him? He’s mine now,” Leonard gloated. “If you hadn’t seduced Vivian in college, she would be mine right now!” He snatched a sharp leather-working awl from my stall and, without warning, plunged it into Snowdrift’s flank. The horse screamed in pain and bolted, with Leonard clinging to the reins. “Snowdrift!” I cried out in horror. Vivian rushed over, her face a mask of terror. “Leonard!” “Vivi, help me!” Leonard shrieked as the horse bucked wildly. Vivian grabbed the antique hunting bow I kept at my stall for decoration and aimed it at Snowdrift. I threw myself at her, wrapping my arms around her. “No! Please! I can whistle for him! He’ll stop if he hears me!” She hesitated. I put my fingers to my lips and let out the familiar, sharp whistle. Snowdrift’s ears perked, and he began to slow. But Leonard wasn’t finished. He secretly jabbed the horse again with the awl. Snowdrift went berserk. Ignoring my pleas, Vivian ripped herself free, drew the bowstring taut, and let the arrow fly. It struck Snowdrift in the neck. He collapsed with a sickening thud. “No!” I screamed, scrambling to his side. “Snowdrift!” His head rested gently in my arms, and then he was still. As I sobbed, my body shaking with grief, Leonard ran to Vivian’s arms. “He tried to kill me!” he wailed, pointing a trembling finger at me. “I was just letting Vivi lead the horse, and he stabbed him with that tool! He wanted me to get thrown!” Vivian held Leonard protectively, her eyes blazing with fury. She kicked over my bicycle, scattering my crafts in the dust. “I’m out here trying to make a little extra money for us, and you pull a stunt like this out of jealousy? You’re pathetic!”

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My back screamed with a throbbing ache shooting down my spine. Penniless, I asked each of my three sons for twenty dollars—just enough for pain relief patches. I never imagined those twenty dollars would make my daughters-in-law declare war. Jessica, my eldest’s wife, wrecked my living room. Brenda, the second, hurled curses at me. Jerry, the youngest’s wife, sobbed and threatened divorce. All accused me of favoritism, each convinced her husband shouldn’t have given me the money. A chill seeped into my bones. My 1,500 monthly social security check was split evenly—500 to each—every time. I gave them my life: babysitting, cleaning their homes, running a food stall at night. The stall’s Venmo? Rotated daily among them. Every cent I earned went to their pockets. But this time, I’d had enough. Silently, I booked a one-way bus ticket home. … Jessica stormed into my house like a hurricane, her face a mask of fury. She jabbed a finger at me, her voice shrill. “What is this act, Eleanor? Asking your son for twenty dollars? Don’t play the victim with me! You’re just trying to make me look bad. I don’t believe for a second you don’t have twenty bucks to your name! This is just another one of your little games, always favoring the other two. The second you need something, you come crawling to us. What, do we owe you?” Jessica had a temper like a lit firecracker, and for years, my eldest son, Mark, had bent to her every whim. He tried to placate her, stepping between us. “Jess, come on, don’t make a scene. It was twenty dollars. What’s the big deal if I give my own mother twenty dollars?” That only enraged her further. Her eyes widened, and she snatched the fruit bowl from the coffee table, smashing it on the floor. “What’s the big deal? What’s the big deal?” she shrieked. She pointed a trembling finger at the scattered organic Honeycrisp apples. “Do you know how much these cost? Eight dollars a pound! She can afford to buy fancy apples, but she can’t scrape together twenty dollars for a box of painkillers? This isn’t about the money, Mark! It’s about sending a message! She’s telling you that I, your wife, am a monster who mistreats her!” She was working herself into a frenzy. “And she didn’t just ask you! She asked David and Leo, too! She gives us her piddling five hundred dollars a month and then manipulates her sons into giving it right back. She gets to look like a saint while we look like ungrateful bitches. You think I’m stupid? You think I’m the easy one to bully?” The more she spoke, the more agitated she became. She grabbed a chair and brought it down on the television, the screen spiderwebbing with a sickening crack. She moved on to the tables, the windows, smashing everything in her path, her screams echoing in the small house. “You want to bully me? I’ll show you! My mother didn’t raise me to be your doormat! You want to play favorites? Fine! Your precious youngest is the golden child, and your eldest is just dirt under your feet! Well, if I can’t be happy, you sure as hell won’t be either!” Mark turned to me, his face a portrait of frustration. “Mom, why? Why did you have to ask me for money? You knew this would happen. It’s like you wanted us to fight!” I tried to explain, my voice barely a whisper over the ringing in my ears. “The apples were a gift. Maria, from the stall next to mine, her family grows them. She gave me a few, and I was going to divide them evenly among the kids.” I pulled out my phone, showing them the text messages. “I asked all three of you for the same amount because I was trying to be fair. I didn’t want anyone to feel singled out.” I thought that would calm her, but Jessica just let out a cold, sharp laugh. Her words were laced with venom. “Oh, the devil was an angel before he fell. You’re a real piece of work, Eleanor. On the surface, you’re the generous mother-in-law, giving away your whole pension. But behind our backs, you’re secretly taking it all back from your sons. You get the good reputation, and the money ends up right back in your pocket. You’re a damn genius.” I was about to protest, to tell them that I genuinely didn’t have a single dollar on me, that the pain in my back was so blinding I had to do something. But just then, the front door burst open again. It was Brenda and Jerry, with my other two sons in tow. They didn’t bother with greetings, just launched straight into a tirade. Brenda, my second daughter-in-law, pointed a finger right at my nose. “What the hell is wrong with you? God, I must have been cursed the day I married into this family! Are you that desperate for twenty bucks? You’re always fawning over the oldest or the youngest. What about us in the middle? We’re just chopped liver to you! You old hag, you treat me like this now? You just wait. When you’re on your deathbed, I won’t lift a finger. You can rot for all I care!” That set Jerry off. She started sobbing dramatically. “Mom, when have you ever favored us? Just because Leo is the youngest, they always accuse you of spoiling him, but you never do! If anything, you favor them! You make a pot of stew, and their kids get all the meat while mine gets the bony scraps! I can’t do this anymore! I want a divorce! Whoever wants to live in this hellhole can have it!” With a wail, Jerry ran out of the house. Leo, my youngest, chased after her, calling her name. David, my middle son, wrapped his arms around a fuming Brenda, murmuring apologies. “I’m so sorry, honey. You shouldn’t have to go through this. I’m so sorry…” My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. From the time they were little boys, I had drilled one lesson into my sons: respect women. When you get married, your wife comes first. You listen to her. You cherish her. I taught them this because my own marriage had been a bitter pill I was forced to swallow every day. My husband was a cold, distant man who barely acknowledged my existence before he finally ran off with another woman, leaving me to fend for myself and our boys. I had to be both mother and father, the foundation that held our fragile world together. I never wanted my sons to inflict that kind of casual cruelty on their own wives. And now, looking at them, I saw that my lesson had stuck. They were nothing like their father. But in my quest to save their wives from my fate, I had damned myself to a life of ever-deepening misery. After the storm passed and my three daughters-in-law had left, I stood alone in the wreckage of my home. Shards of glass glittered on the floor like cruel diamonds. My heart didn’t just ache; it bled, drop by painful drop. I had tried, I truly had, to be a good mother-in-law. I was fair. I was just. I watched all their children, did all their housework. Every dollar I scraped together from my pension and my food stall, I divided equally among them. I bought them houses—three identical starter homes in the same subdivision, putting down every penny I had for the down payments. All they had to do was cover the mortgage. My life was a relentless cycle. One day at Mark’s house, cleaning. The next at David’s. Then Leo’s. I picked up the grandchildren from school, made them dinner, and then headed to the market to work my stall from 8 p.m. until 1 a.m. I survived on three, maybe four hours of sleep a night. I was a spinning top, constantly in motion, never allowed to rest. I sat there for hours, surrounded by the chaos, the silence deafening. Then, with a clarity that felt both terrifying and liberating, I confirmed my bus ticket for three days’ time. The next day, the calls started. One by one, my sons phoned, their voices edged with complaint. “Mom, where are you? You didn’t pick up the kids from school.” “Mom, what’s going on? Lily was late for school today, which made me late for work. This is messing everything up.” “Mom, stop sulking. If you want this family to function, you need to pull yourself together and focus on the kids.” A tiny, foolish part of me still held out hope. They were my flesh and blood. Surely, they cared about me, somewhere deep down. I tried one last time. “My back is in agony,” I said, my voice thin. “I can barely walk. I saw an old chiropractor, and he said I need to stay in bed for a couple of months. If I don’t, it could get serious.” Mark’s reply was dismissive. “Mom, every adult’s back hurts. It’s a minor thing, nothing to worry about. Don’t work yourself up.” This, from the same son who, just last month, had spent a hundred dollars on an imported back brace for his own mother-in-law. David was no better. “You bought those pain patches, right? You’ll be fine in a couple of days. It’s not like you do any heavy lifting, just watching the kids.” Leo, my youngest, was the cruelest of all. “Mom, you’re being scammed. That ‘old chiropractor’ is just trying to bleed you dry. How much money do you have left? You should transfer it to me. I’ll keep it safe for you so you don’t get tricked out of it.” That was it. The last flicker of hope died, leaving nothing but cold, hard ash. I had no expectations left for my three sons. That evening, as I lay in bed, the pain a hot poker in my spine, there was a soft knock on my door. It was Lily, my nine-year-old granddaughter, Jessica and Mark’s daughter. I had raised her since the day she was born. She crept into the room. “Grandma,” she said softly, “Mom’s really mad you didn’t go to the market tonight. She wants you to go.” “I can’t, sweetie,” I told her. “Grandma’s back hurts too much.” Lily sighed, her young face filled with a sympathy far beyond her years. “I know. I told her your back was bad. But she said this month has 31 days, so it’s her turn to get an extra day of the stall money. She said Aunt Brenda and Aunt Jerry got the extra day the last two times, so it’s not fair. You have to go, or she’ll lose out.” I’d been running that little food stall for thirty years. It was that stall, along with my salary, that had put a roof over their heads, paid for their weddings, and supported their families. After they married, Jessica was the first one to get her hooks into it. She’d secretly taped her own Venmo QR code over mine on the cart, pleading that her family had an emergency and she needed cash fast. I couldn’t say no. But to be fair, I let Brenda and Jerry do the same for a few days. Once they got a taste of that easy money, there was no going back. They devised a system: a daily rotation of their payment accounts on my cart. When I pointed out I’d have no money to buy supplies, they’d waved it off. “Don’t worry, Mom, we’ll cover the costs, split it three ways. You just do the cooking and selling.” They had been so sweet then. “You’re so good to us, Mom,” they’d cooed. “When you’re old, we’ll take care of you just like you were our own mother.” But the more I gave, the more they demanded. Lily’s voice pulled me back to the present. She squeezed my hand, mumbling, “Why does this month have to have 31 days? Why couldn’t it just be 30?” Just then, Jessica appeared in the doorway, her face like a thundercloud. Seeing me in bed only made it darker. “Well, Lily’s grandmother,” she said, her voice dripping with ice. “What is the meaning of this?” I met her gaze, my own face a cold, blank mask. “There is no meaning.” Jessica’s face flushed a blotchy red. The verbal machine gun started up again. “You talk and talk about being fair, but what do you call this? It’s my turn to get the extra day’s earnings, and suddenly you’re too ‘sick’ to work! If it was Brenda’s turn, or Jerry’s, you’d crawl to that stall on your hands and knees if you had to! You play these games, you show your favoritism, and you think there won’t be consequences? Fine. You want to make a point? So will I. If you don’t go to that stall tonight, you can forget about us ever taking care of you when you’re old and useless!” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “I can’t even count on you now. What makes you think I’d ever count on you in the future?” Jessica froze, stunned that I had talked back. She stomped her foot.

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1 My colleague was just joking around, slapping a parking ticket on my windshield and snapping a picture to prank me about a violation. I fell for it. Logging onto the city’s traffic violations website, I wasn’t prepared for what I found. It wasn’t a parking ticket. It was a crystal-clear, high-resolution photo from a traffic cam yesterday. In the photo, Julian’s first love, Claire, was in the passenger seat. She was unbuckled, leaning across the console to press a kiss to his cheek. And Julian… he was smiling. A radiant, unreserved smile I’d never once seen him wear for me. Staring at that image, a cold clarity washed over me. This one-sided devotion, this decade of chasing a ghost—it was time to let go. I quietly paid the fine online. Then, I drove myself to the clinic and had the abortion. I drafted the divorce papers and had them messengered to his office. From this day forward, the mountains are just mountains, and I am just me. … My best friend, Tessa, got the news and burst through my door, frantic. “What the hell is going on with you and Julian? Did he cheat on you?” I lifted my swollen, red-rimmed eyes, managing a smile that felt more like a grimace. Ten years of looking up to him, of orbiting his world, had earned me a marriage that was nothing more than polite, respectful distance. I had mistaken it for happiness. Today, a single photograph had shattered that illusion. Marrying me… for Julian, it had always been a compromise, hadn’t it? Tessa looked at my pathetic, crumbling state, and her anger flared. “I told you, Liv. I told you Julian Vance was no good, but you wouldn’t listen. You were determined to follow that path until it led you off a cliff.” “Good riddance, I say! It killed me watching you trail after him like some pathetic puppy!” She took a breath, her tone softening slightly. “Listen, Ian has that international project he needs someone to lead. Why don’t you think about it?” A bitter taste filled my mouth. I managed a small nod, and only then did I realize tears were already streaming down my face, silent and unstoppable. I fumbled around for a tissue, but Tessa just sighed, pulling me into a hug. “Don’t hold it in. Just cry.” And I did. The dam of my composure broke, and I clung to her, sobbing out all the grievance. After she dropped me home, she had to run. I called Ian to get the details about the project and realized it was a perfect fit for my skills. I accepted on the spot. The departure date was in one week. I could handle the work handover online. Later, washing my face, I caught my reflection in the mirror—this haggard, miserable-looking woman. For the first time, I felt a surge of disgust at myself. My phone buzzed, jolting me from my thoughts. “Olivia,” Julian’s voice, infuriatingly polite. “Could you do me a favor and bring my black suit to the office? Thanks.” Habit took over, and I agreed before I could stop myself. The line went dead before the wrongness of it all sank in. After a moment of hesitation, I decided not to call back and refuse. Julian was often “too busy” to come home anyway. This was my chance to pick up the signed divorce papers in person. When I arrived, Claire was leaning over Julian’s shoulder, both of them focused on his computer screen. A stray strand of her hair brushed against his cheek. He gently caught it, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that stole my breath. His eyes flickered up and met mine. The softness in his expression vanished, replaced by a cool annoyance. “What took you so long?” he asked, his tone accusatory. Claire smiled, a soothing hand on his arm, and took the suit from me. “Don’t be harsh, Julian. He’s just stressed out by the team. Thank you for bringing this, Olivia. Don’t mind him.” She played the part of the gracious lady of the house perfectly, making me feel like the shameful intruder. If this had happened right after she’d returned to the country and become his secretary, I would have erupted. But now, my voice was flat, devoid of the fury she expected. “Are the papers signed?” Julian’s eyebrow arched. He let Claire help him into the fresh suit jacket. “What papers?” “Julian, we should go. We’re going to be late,” Claire interjected, cutting off our conversation. He gave a slight nod, tossing a dismissive remark over his shoulder as he followed her out. “We’ll talk at home.” As they walked away, Claire glanced back at me, a triumphant, unconcealed smirk on her face. I searched his desk, but the divorce agreement was nowhere to be found. My hand accidentally nudged the mouse, and the computer screen lit up. His desktop wallpaper filled the screen: Julian and Claire, leaning against a seaside railing, their gazes locked, their faces alight with a deep, shared affection. Another intimacy I had never known. I grabbed my bag and fled. Back home, I collapsed behind the front door and wept again. Letting go… it was so much harder than I’d imagined. But it was okay. One day, I would rip Julian out of my heart, root and stem. Mindlessly scrolling through videos to numb the pain, a “People You May Know” suggestion popped up. I meant to swipe past it, but my thumb slipped and opened the profile. It was Claire’s. The latest video was from a funeral. The caption read: In these difficult times, I’m so glad I have you by my side. The deceased was just a distant uncle of hers. And there, standing beside her, was Julian, playing the part of the devoted partner. Watching him on screen, so present and attentive, a bitter realization dawned on me. Julian wasn’t always “drowning in work.” He was just never available for me. He’d used that same excuse—”work is just too crazy right now”—to leave our own wedding reception halfway through. I remembered the flicker of apology in his eyes and thought it was guilt. I had even comforted him, telling him not to worry. How laughable it all seemed now. He was probably already regretting it back then. 2 That night, as expected, Julian didn’t come home. But I saw him the next day at the university’s alumni homecoming. He was on stage, holding Claire’s hand as they presented a large donation. I stood in the audience and listened as he shamelessly introduced her to the host as “the most important person in my life.” In that moment, I felt a wave of relief that I had honored his request for a “low-key” wedding and hadn’t invited a single friend from college. As if sensing my presence, he turned his head, and his eyes met mine across the crowd. A frown creased his brow, but his hand remained firmly clasped around Claire’s. A bitter taste filled my mouth. I lowered my head and walked away, heading toward the grassy banks of Mirror Lake on campus. Footsteps followed me. “You came to the homecoming? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have picked you up.” No mention of holding her hand. No explanation. No flicker of panic at being caught. A sardonic laugh escaped me. “Is there even room for me in your car anymore?” Julian rubbed the bridge of his nose, a picture of weary frustration. “Liv, do you have to be so aggressive? What happened to the considerate, understanding woman I know?” The woman I used to be? What was she like? She worshipped him as the god who had pulled her from the mire. His smile was her sun, his frown her storm. Her entire world revolved around him, a self-erased satellite in his orbit. Honestly, if Julian had just told me he wanted to be with Claire, I would have stepped aside. I knew from the start that our marriage was just a spiteful rebound on his part, a way to get back at her after they broke up. I was the secret admirer who saw it all unfold and willingly walked into the trap. Now that their old flame was rekindled, he should have been pushing me out the door. His deliberate avoidance of the topic was something I just couldn’t understand. “Julian, there you are!” Claire’s voice called out. She approached us, navigating the soft grass in her high heels. She feigned surprise at seeing me. “Oh, Olivia, you’re here too?” She walked right up to Julian, straightening his collar with a familiar ease. “The dean is looking for you for a photo. We should head back.” Julian glanced at me, waiting for a response I wouldn’t give. He sighed, then said, “Wait for me. We’ll leave together.” “Don’t you have that conference call to rush back for?” Claire reminded him with a sweet smile, then turned to me, her voice dripping with mock apology. “I’m afraid you’ll have to get a cab home, Olivia.” Julian hesitated. Suddenly, Claire shrieked, “A snake!” In a flash, Julian shoved me aside. He scooped a frantic Claire into his arms and sprinted toward the safety of the paved path. And me, standing right at the water’s edge, I was the one he pushed. The shove sent me stumbling backward, right off the bank and into the lake. The summer water of Mirror Lake should have been warm. But as it closed over me, it felt bone-chillingly cold, a frigid shock that seeped into my very marrow. Through the shimmering surface, I saw Julian’s eyes—wide with guilt and panic. He started rushing toward me, but I had already scrambled back onto the bank before he could reach me. “Liv, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see…” I managed a weak smile. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.” Without another glance, I turned and walked away, my body and soul dripping with a cold I couldn’t shake. I saw Julian’s fists clench at his sides. For the first time, he looked as if he realized I was slipping away, truly out of his reach. He started to follow, but a glance back at the still-trembling Claire stopped him. Instead, a text message arrived: Go home first. I’ll explain later. I let out a hollow scoff. Explain what? That his first instinct was to protect her? Or that his solution was to throw me into a lake? Whichever it was, I didn’t want to hear it. I was tired of his self-serving lies. That evening, a troubled Julian came home early for once. He found the kitchen cold and dark, me quietly eating takeout on the couch. A strange sense of relief seemed to settle over him. “Is this how you take care of yourself when I’m not here?” he murmured, his tone chiding but gentle. “We should hire a housekeeper. There’s too much to do around here. It breaks my heart to see you so tired.” My hand, holding my fork, paused mid-air. What a considerate, caring husband. These were the exact kinds of empty pleasantries he’d used to make me believe that, over time, he’d actually fallen for me. They were the reason I had become so hopelessly dependent on him. But a lie is still a lie. I wiped my mouth and spoke, my voice steady. “Let’s get a divorce.” 3 Julian froze for a second, then let out a weary laugh. “Still throwing a tantrum, are we?” he said, stepping closer. “Claire and I are in the past. You and I are married now. You need to trust your husband.” He reached out to pat my head, his tone placating, as if offering me an easy way to back down. I didn’t take it. “Make your own dinner.” It was perhaps the first time I had ever flatly refused him, and he looked genuinely taken aback. I had no intention of continuing the conversation. I moved to sidle past him toward the bedroom, but his hand shot out, grabbing my arm. “Liv, are you not feeling well?” he asked, his voice still infuriatingly gentle, painting me as the irrational one. I snapped. “What if I’m not? In five years of marriage, have you ever actually cared?” “We’re husband and wife. Who else would I care about?” “Fine. Then tell me, when was my last period?” His mouth opened, but no words came out. Of course he wouldn’t know. Just like he didn’t know I was pregnant. I’d had morning sickness in front of him several times, and he’d just casually told me to take some antacids. “But you know Claire’s, don’t you?” I stared at him, tears welling in my eyes. I expected him to get angry, to yell, to desperately deny his relationship with her. He did none of those things. He just sighed, a deep, world-weary sound. “You need to calm down. I’ll be working late at the office tonight.” There it was again. His escape hatch. Every time I tried to confront him, he’d retreat behind the shield of “work.” A cold war waged under the guise of mutual respect, and Julian was a master of it. Something inside me broke. I grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and hurled it at him. He didn’t dodge in time. It struck him on the temple, leaving an angry red mark. His eyes, which had been full of weary patience, slowly filled with rage. “Olivia, there’s a limit to this nonsense.” He turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him, leaving me in a crushing, dead silence. There’s no point in screaming into a valley that gives no echo; you only exhaust yourself. I slid down to the floor, my gaze landing on our wedding photo on the wall. I started to laugh, but the laughter choked into sobs. I don’t know how long I sat there, lost in a daze, before my phone rang. I pressed the answer button, and Julian’s furious voice crackled through the speaker. “Olivia, get over here and control your damn friend.” The mention of Tessa jolted me to my feet. I hung up and rushed to the restaurant he’d named. The moment I stepped inside, I saw it: Claire, clutching her cheek, weeping pitifully in Julian’s arms, while Tessa was being held back by two waiters, looking ready to commit murder. I hurried to Tessa’s side, trying to calm her down. Julian didn’t even look at me. His face was a thundercloud. “Tessa, don’t think for a second that because you’re Olivia’s friend, I won’t touch you.” His voice was dangerously low. “Apologize to Claire. Now.” “Screw you!” Tessa spat. “Don’t you dare try to frame me, you cheating piece of trash! I wish I’d slapped her, but I never got the chance!” Julian’s anger pivoted and crashed down on me. “Olivia, what kind of lies have you been feeding her? I told you Claire and I are just friends! Are you deaf?” His voice rose, drawing stares from the other patrons. “Today, neither of you is leaving until you apologize to Claire.” “Fine,” I said, my voice surprisingly calm. “But before we do anything, let’s have the manager pull up the security footage.” Tessa’s eyes lit up. Claire, however, just cried harder. “It’s okay, Julian, forget it,” she sobbed. “I… I didn’t realize Olivia misunderstood me so deeply. Maybe… maybe you should just stay away from me from now on.” With that, she turned and ran out of the restaurant, tears streaming down her face. Julian shot me one last venomous look before rushing after her. “Olivia,” he bit out before he left, “if anything happens to Claire, I swear, we are done.” My throat felt tight. I lowered my eyes, saying nothing.

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My classmate Missy—now engaged to the city’s richest bachelor, Carter Thorne—sent a group chat invite to everyone but me. “I’ll serve tea to Carter’s great-grandaunt tomorrow,” she wrote. “Certain jealous people should stay away.” It started when a photo surfaced of me kissing Carter’s forehead, calling him “sweet boy.” For two years, Missy branded me a homewrecker and bullied me relentlessly. I replied: “Even if invited, I’m busy overseeing my junior’s engagement.” The next day, they ambushed me at the party. “You shameless bitch!” they screamed, breaking my hands, killing my cat, and locking me in a dog cage after pouring chili oil on me. Meanwhile, Missy knelt for hours, begging the great-grandaunt to accept her tea. Too bad my hands were broken. I couldn’t drink it anyway. 1 Carter Thorne, the powerful tycoon who ruled the city’s business world, was kneeling respectfully before me, docile as a puppy. “My fiancée, Missy Vance, is a sweet and sensible girl. I’ve brought her here today for Great-Grandaunt’s approval. She’ll serve you tea and pay her respects, and from now on, she’ll join me in honoring you.” Sweet and sensible? The memory of Missy’s vicious words in the group chat made me frown. Carter’s grandfather, his hair already silver, saw my displeasure and immediately dropped to his knees, assuming he’d overstepped by arranging the engagement without my consent. “Although the younger generation is quite fond of this girl, if you do not approve, Aunt, then she is not worthy of marrying into the Thorne family.” The Thorne family was a century-old dynasty with strict, unbending rules. Though I was young, my seniority in the family was absolute. I held the reins of the family’s resources and its very future. To the outside world, he was the revered patriarch of the Thorne family, but in my presence, he had to kneel, never daring to cross the line. I gave him a cold smile and gestured for him to rise. “It’s fine. Let things proceed as planned.” She didn’t want me at her engagement party? I’d like to see how Missy Vance planned on marrying into my family. After they had all respectfully departed, a message popped up on my phone. The contact name read: That Annoying Dog, Damien Sterling. “Babe, when are we going to go public? If you don’t give me a proper title soon, I’m going to have to show up at your door and demand one.” The four great families of the capital were currently in a delicate balance of power. Damien Sterling was the formidable chairman who presided over all four, including the Thornes. The man everyone else feared was a shameless flirt when it came to me. I couldn’t resist teasing him. “Then by all means, come.” After I was done with my duties, I realized I was starving. I picked up my cat, Patches, and wandered through the manor. The engagement party was being set up in the side hall, with staff already arranging decorations. The evening’s festivities hadn’t begun, and the guests hadn’t arrived yet. Everyone was busy. When I reached the main dining hall, I saw that the luncheon table, which should have been cleared hours ago, was untouched. I remembered then: no one eats until I do. I sat down and began to feast. I’d barely taken two bites when a sharp blow struck the back of my head, nearly sending my face into the bowl. A woman’s shrill voice screeched in my ear. “You filthy beggar! I haven’t even eaten yet, and you dare to steal food?” Clutching the throbbing back of my head, I looked up and met Missy’s eyes. She had no idea that the haute couture gown she was wearing was one I had personally selected, yet her eyes were filled with nothing but contempt for me. “Skylar Thorne, have you no shame? I told you not to come. Not only did you sneak in, but you’re freeloading here too.” Her three lackeys stood beside her, their faces mirroring her disdain. “Do you know where you are? This is the Thorne estate. A poor country bumpkin like you doesn’t belong here.” “Look at what she’s wearing, so provocative. She’s obviously here to seduce Mr. Thorne and ruin the engagement party.” “Exactly! And she had the nerve to call him her ‘sweet boy.’ Mr. Thorne is the future head of this family. Who the hell do you think you are?” I gritted my teeth and retorted, “When I call him my sweet boy, it’s an honor. He should be smiling in his sleep.” To gain my approval, Carter had gone to great lengths to please me. In a moment of affection, I had kissed his forehead like one would a cherished junior. He was overjoyed and posted about it online, which led Missy to believe I was trying to seduce him. That was the beginning of two years of relentless bullying. They tore up my homework, stuffed dead rats in my desk, and poured red ink on my chair. They even started rumors online that I was sleeping with a middle-aged teacher and that my sick days were for abortions. For two years, my reputation at school was in tatters. I reported them to the police time and again, but it always ended with a forced, meaningless apology. I never imagined she would be audacious enough to bring her cruelty into my own home. “I am Carter’s great-…” Before I could finish, Missy grabbed the soup tureen in front of me and dumped it over my head. “Ah!” The scalding broth streamed down my head. A searing pain shot through me, so intense it felt like my scalp was shrinking. Before I could recover, Missy grabbed my ponytail and slammed my head against the table. Bang, bang, bang. My face repeatedly hit the hard surface. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I let out a choked cry of agony. Missy burst out laughing. “Hahaha, listen to her. I bet she sounds just as slutty when she’s servicing a man.” The thought seemed to enrage her further. She ordered her friends to hold me down. “Since you dared to steal food, we’ll break your hands.” “Missy, you wouldn’t dare!” I screamed. The words had barely left my mouth when she grabbed the heavy tureen and brought it down on my hands. Again and again, a piercing, bone-deep pain shot through my fingers. I was held down so tightly I couldn’t move, forced to watch as she smashed my slender, white fingers, twisting them into grotesque, unnatural angles. Just then, Patches, who had been bristling with rage, leaped at Missy, scratching her hands. “Ah! You damn animal!” Missy kicked him, sending him flying across the room. “Patches!” While they were distracted, I fought through the pain, broke free, and threw myself in front of my cat. “Don’t you touch him! If Carter finds out, he’ll never forgive you!” Patches was a gift from my grandfather; he meant the world to me. The previous family head had been stripped of his title and cast out by the family council for accidentally stepping on Patches’ paw and making me frown. He was now a beggar. Carter had earned my approval only after meticulously caring for Patches, even catching his diarrhea in his bare hands. “That’s right,” one of the girls said, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “I’ve seen the Thorne family’s cat in the news several times. It looks exactly like this one.” Missy, however, only grew angrier. “Are you trying to threaten me, you pathetic loser?” she sneered. “There are plenty of animals that look alike. Your cat is as worthless as you are. And even if it is the Thorne family’s cat, you think Carter would blame me over a damn animal?” A cold smile touched her lips as she exchanged a look with her friends. “Kill the beast. I’ll take responsibility.”

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The day the Hawthorne family, Miami’s wealthiest dynasty, came to claim me, I was one of Hollywood’s brightest rising stars. The whole city’s paparazzi were there, live-streaming my homecoming. But Brielle, the Hawthornes’ adopted daughter, stood at the door, blocking my way. “Sister,” she began, her voice dripping with faux concern, “we’ve looked into you. You’re famous for a… certain scandalous art-house film. The Hawthorne family has its standards. You’ll have to change your clothes in front of everyone before you can come in.” She smiled sweetly. “Father said that when he and my brother aren’t home, I’m the lady of the house. I hope you can understand.” In my past life, I would have been cautious, desperate to protect my image, and would have probably swallowed my pride. But this wasn’t my past life. I was reborn. I kicked over a large, ornate planter by the door, sending dirt scattering across the pristine marble. Shoving the stunned Brielle aside, I scoffed. “A joke! You want to strip me? You’re not worthy.” “Every inch of me is insured for more than you’re worth. If you so much as pluck a single hair from my head, you couldn’t afford it.” “‘Lady of the house’? We’ll see how long it takes for you to be on your knees, begging me.” 1 The moment the words left my mouth, a tidal wave of paparazzi surged forward, flashes erupting like a lightning storm, nearly blinding me. “Marissa! The rumors are true! You’re the long-lost Hawthorne heiress!” Brielle reached for my dress, and I slapped her hand away. “Don’t you dare!” “Even if I weren’t a Hawthorne, I’m still a multi-million-dollar celebrity! I’m warning you, touch me again, and you’ll be hearing from my lawyers.” Brielle clutched her face, her eyes burning with fury. “You…!” This was the kind of raw confrontation the paparazzi lived for. They shoved their microphones in Brielle’s face. “Ms. Hawthorne! Marissa is a huge star! Aren’t you happy to have a sister like her?” “And besides, she’s the real Hawthorne by blood. Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” A slow, calculating smile spread across Brielle’s face. “Of course I’m happy to have a sister. But this… this was Father’s wish.” “And I’m about to launch my own career, you know. I understand what’s acceptable and what isn’t. I would never sell my body for a bit of fame. So let’s be clear, no one here is better than anyone else.” She looked at me, a condescending tilt to her head. “Today, as her older sister and the lady of this house, I’m simply teaching her the Hawthorne way.” I let out a sharp laugh. “‘Lady of the house’? We’ll see what the real Hawthornes have to say about that. For now, you’re nothing but a cuckoo in the nest who thinks she’s a swan.” Just then, the family butler stepped forward, whispering to Brielle but speaking loud enough for the closest cameras to hear. He glanced at me with a sneer. “The master said actresses love their drama. He told you not to be afraid. You are the only daughter of his heart. No one will bully you!” 2 The butler’s words sent the paparazzi into a frenzy. “The master? Does that mean Marissa’s return won’t change Brielle’s status at all?” “Looks like it! So what if she’s back in the family? She’s still second-class!” My phone buzzed violently. My agent, Amy, was on the line, her voice a shrill shriek in my ear. “Marissa! My god, are you insane?! Get back here right now! Forget this family reunion!” “The live-stream has gone viral! The internet is exploding! They’re all saying you’re an ungrateful brat! This is the Hawthorne family we’re talking about!” “Do you have any idea how much Hawthorne Capital has invested in our agency?! Are you trying to kill me?!” I listened to her tirade and let out a soft laugh. “It’s fine, Amy. Just sit back and watch the show. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take the heat.” Amy’s voice was thick with tears. “My sweet girl, do you know who Kurt Hawthorne is? He’s the heir! He’s famous for being obsessed with his sister!” “You’ve made an enemy of Brielle. You think he’ll let you get away with this? The second Hawthorne Capital pulls their funding, you’ll be the first one the agency shelves!” Suddenly, there was a commotion on her end of the line. “Oh, hell! I have to go! We just got a message from Hawthorne Capital’s business affairs! Listen to me, Marissa! Come back now!” She hung up. I smiled to myself. She didn’t know that I was a major, silent partner in our agency. I’d used the fortune I’d built to invest, but I’d kept it quiet, not wanting to be accused of getting ahead because of my money. The Hawthorne family was going to ‘shelve’ me? Not likely. Seeing me hang up, Brielle leaned in, her voice a low, taunting whisper. “Looks like my brother has already made his move. I’d listen if I were you.” “So what if you have Hawthorne blood? With an attitude like that, you’ll never set foot in this house again.” Just then, a flame-red Ferrari screeched to a halt in front of the gate. The legendary Hawthorne heir, Kurt Hawthorne, stepped out, his face a mask of cold fury. Brielle’s expression transformed instantly. She ran to him, her voice a delicate, wounded cry as she grabbed his arm. “Kurt… you’re finally back…” Kurt walked straight up to me, his eyes raking over me from head to toe. “You’re Marissa?” The paparazzi held their breath, their faces alight with glee. They stretched their necks. “Mr. Hawthorne! The hottest rising star, Marissa, is your long-lost sister! How do you feel?!” Kurt scoffed. “Marissa may share our blood, that’s true. But Brielle has been in our family for years. She is, and always will be, the only sister in my heart.” “Besides,” he continued, his voice dripping with contempt, “Brielle is a few months older than her. For Marissa to come here on her first day and show her such disrespect… it’s clear she’s had a lack of proper upbringing.” My phone rang. It was my adoptive mother. She must have seen the live-stream and was furious. I ignored the call. Kurt looked at me, pressing his advantage. “I don’t care what kind of star you are. The Hawthorne estate is not a stage for your publicity stunts. If you plan on making a scene here, don’t blame me for being merciless.” The paparazzi buzzed, turning all their cameras on me, waiting for my response. I met the cameras with a smirk. “This is being live-streamed to the entire country. Everyone can see what’s happening. Who was it that tried to strip my clothes off just now? And somehow I’m the one making a scene?” “And didn’t you just pull the funding from my projects? What’s with the self-righteous act now?” “I had no idea the great Hawthorne family was so good at twisting the truth.” My words sent the live-stream chat into an explosion. A tidal wave of supportive comments flooded the screen. I didn’t even need to look to know public opinion was on my side. Brielle’s face tightened, but she quickly shifted back into her innocent-little-damsel routine. “My brother didn’t mean it like that. He just… he can’t stand to see me get hurt.” She paused, then added in a tone of magnanimous charity, “We’re the Hawthornes, Miami’s wealthiest family. We can certainly afford to feed one more person.” Her eyes reddened. “What happened today was just standard Hawthorne protocol. My sister must have misunderstood. After all, she didn’t have much of an education. She’s been working since she was very young, so she has more… real-world experience than I do. It’s only natural she’d think the worst of people.” I laughed coldly and raised my hand as if to strike her. She flinched, squeezing her eyes shut and cowering back. I lowered my hand, my smile dripping with scorn. “Do you know who the first person to seek me out for a DNA test was?” “Let me tell you something. Whether or not the Hawthorne family accepts me isn’t up to a little stray like you.” 3 All I knew was that after I went missing, my birth mother searched for me for years, until, consumed by guilt and despair, she took her own life. And I, after I became famous, was on screens everywhere. My grandmother saw me and recognized me instantly as her long-lost granddaughter. She came to my door time and time again, begging me to take a DNA test, desperate for me to come home. The person who wanted me back was never the high-and-mighty Mr. Hawthorne, and it certainly wasn’t the arrogant Kurt Hawthorne. Brielle’s eyes flew open. “So what if Grandmother recognized you!” she shrieked. “This is the Hawthorne house! What does her word matter here?” She pointed a trembling finger at me. “My brother is the one Father chose! He is the one and only heir to the Hawthorne fortune! If he says you can’t come in, you’ll never set foot past this gate!” I laughed inwardly. She really wasn’t family, was she? She didn’t even know who really called the shots here. I gave her a cold stare, pulled over a chair, and sat down with a cool, unbothered air. A smirk played on my lips. “Fine. Then we’ll wait for the master of the house to return.” Seeing the viewer count on the live-stream skyrocket, I smiled. If I didn’t blow this up today, these two would never learn who was really in charge. I was casually scrolling through the live chat when a furious roar cut through the air. “What is going on?! When did the Hawthorne estate become a public stage?!” I looked up. It was Arthur Hawthorne, his eyes wide with rage. I rose slowly, a mocking smile on my face. “No one’s treating this place like a stage. But some people seem to have forgotten their place and started thinking they’re the masters here.” Arthur’s eyes scanned the forest of cameras, and his face turned a furious shade of purple. “Henderson!” he bellowed at the butler. “Get these reporters out of here!” The paparazzi erupted. “On what grounds? We’re just filming Marissa!” “What a tyrant! The great Arthur Hawthorne won’t even let his own daughter in the door! Is there no decency?!” A vein throbbed in Arthur’s temple. “My daughter? Who knows if she’s just after our money! Don’t think that filming a few sleazy movies makes you a princess!” “We’re gracious enough to acknowledge her, and instead of being grateful, she comes here to ruin the Hawthorne family’s century-old reputation!” I looked at him and felt a profound sense of irony. This man, who had changed his own name just to marry into wealth, had the audacity to lecture me. Seeing my silence, Kurt thought I was scared. He arrogantly ordered the security guards, “Get them all out of here! And for the next few days, if I see a single negative headline about the Hawthorne family, there will be consequences!” The reporters exchanged uneasy glances. Most of them reluctantly lowered their cameras, seemingly forgetting that this was all being broadcast live. Brielle pointed at me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Looks like there won’t be a family reunion today. When the great star is ready to change her clothes and walk over a pit of fire, we can talk.” Arthur looked at me with disgust. “Don’t think a little shared blood gives you the right to throw your weight around in our house! We don’t welcome women who sell their bodies!” “Now get out, before you dirty our home!” Just then, a powerful, commanding voice boomed from the entrance. “I’d like to see who dares touch a single hair on my granddaughter’s head!”

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After our parents’ divorce, my sister Serena—playing the saint—discovered our father was dating a Manhattan socialite. Desperate to become an heiress, she came to me with crocodile tears. “Aria,” she whispered, “Dad gets violent when drunk. Let me take the hardship for you.” With that, she left our mother’s arms and dramatically joined our father. In my past life, Serena had stolen Mom’s secrets, learning our grandmother was a Boston elite matriarch. She stayed with Mom, expecting a lavish life—but Mom worked as a cleaner and hot dog vendor, barely affording rent. Resentment festered in her. Meanwhile, as the daughter of a social-climbing tycoon, I lived in luxury—acing the SATs, racing professionally, and winning figure skating titles. Serena’s jealousy turned deadly. After a race, she stabbed me seven times in public. Reborn on divorce day, I watched her make the opposite choice—a six-year-old “martyr” smirking in triumph. But she didn’t know—she’d just chosen a fate worse than a dog’s. 1 I lowered my head, hiding the inferno of hatred in my eyes. I heard our father, Steven, ask, “Serena, you want to come with me?” He was actually more interested in me. Like Serena, he had pursued my mother for her status as a Boston heiress, dreaming of marrying into a dynasty. But my grandmother, with her sharp intuition, saw the rot in his character and forbade the marriage. Just as my mother hesitated between love and family, Steven got her pregnant and convinced her to run away with him, assuming my grandmother would eventually relent. He was wrong. Once it was clear Grandmother wouldn’t acknowledge my mother, Steven began cheating. He posed as a bohemian artist, charming his way into the beds of powerful, wealthy young women. The reason for this divorce was that he’d finally caught his big fish: Victoria Sterling, the woman who became my stepmother in my last life. As a Manhattan socialite, Victoria was adored and untethered, but she couldn’t escape her one duty: a strategic marriage. When it was discovered she was barren, her family cast her out. Shunned and ignored, she appeared to waste her time with a parade of male models, but in secret, she was meticulously, ruthlessly devouring the family business from the inside out. Now in her thirties, her empire was taking shape, and she wanted to marry a man who already had a daughter. Steven didn’t hesitate to pit Serena and me against each other. After a screening by Victoria’s team of “experts,” I was deemed the more suitable candidate to be her heiress. In my last life, ignorant of Steven’s scheme, I dutifully went with him. The moment we arrived at the Sterling mansion, Victoria threw me into the crocodile pit. “Aria,” she’d said, her voice a silken thread, “if you want to be my daughter, you must first learn to survive. The gators will be released in three hours. Prepare yourself.” “No!” I thrashed in the water, screaming in terror. “Don’t let them eat me! Please!” The elegant woman’s voice remained impossibly gentle. “You have to save yourself, little bird.” 2 I cried, pleading with Steven, who was hiding behind Victoria. “Daddy! Help me! Please, save me!” He ignored my terror, echoing her words. “Aria, your mother is right. You need to listen. For Daddy’s sake, you have to survive!” “She’s not my mother!” I shrieked. Victoria bent down slightly, tilting my face up. “Aria. If you want a mother’s love from me, you must forget Clara completely. Be a good girl, pass this test, and you can take my name.” I didn’t answer. Instead, instinct took over, and I sank my teeth into her wrist, hard. Steven scrambled down, prying at my jaw. “Aria! You little wolf! Let go!” Victoria was unruffled. “You can bite through my hand, Aria, but the crocodiles will still be behind you in exactly one hundred and sixty minutes.” Her words hit me like a physical blow. I was powerless. I released her and swam to the iron bars of the enclosure, forcing down my fear, studying the dark shapes gliding beneath the surface and the layout of my prison. I had to live. After three days of a brutal battle of wits with the crocodiles, Victoria had them killed. Without giving me a moment to breathe, she locked me in a dog cage and fed me raw meat. Her “training” never stopped. As I grew up, I became exceptional. In public, when she needed me to be her showpiece, she was the epitome of a loving, gentle mother. But any time I faltered, any time I failed to meet her impossible standards, she would devise new ways to punish and torture me. So, while the world knew me as the “All-Around Genius,” my soul was a warped, twisted thing. If Serena hadn’t killed me, it was only a matter of time before I took Victoria down with me. Since I was reborn, I would, of course, grant Serena her wish. Let her go be Victoria’s dog. I would stay with my mother and heal myself. 3 Terrified of missing her chance to change her destiny, Serena hugged Steven’s leg and nodded vigorously. “Daddy! I want to go with you! I’ll stay with you and take care of you!” Steven hesitated. Just then, my mother knelt down to my eye level, her voice soft. “Aria, what about you? Do you want to be with Mommy or Daddy?” “Mommy,” I said, without a second’s thought. Though Mom was heartbroken to lose Serena, she wouldn’t force me. My decisive choice moved her deeply. She pulled me into a hug, her voice thick with emotion as she made a solemn promise. “Aria, I will make sure you grow up healthy and happy.” I answered with all the sincerity I could muster. “I’ll always stay with you, Mommy.” Last time, Mom gave all her love to Serena, who threw it away. This time, I would cherish it. Steven suddenly shouted, “Clara, I haven’t agreed! What gives you the right to take Aria?” Mom ignored him, whispering for me to take Serena to our room to pack our things. I nodded obediently. Then I walked to Serena, took her hand, and forced my voice into the innocent tone of a seven-year-old. “Come on, Serena. Let’s go upstairs.” A flash of unchildlike malice crossed her six-year-old face. She quickly masked it, giving me a dismissive nod. I hid my own seething hatred, leading her up the stairs while my mind raced, searching for an escape. We’d only taken a few steps when she shoved me from behind. In that split second, an idea sparked. I let her momentum carry me backward, intentionally letting my forehead slam into the sharp corner of the banister. Unfortunately, my seven-year-old body wasn’t as tough as my mind. When I hit the ground, a wave of real, agonizing pain washed over me, and a genuine scream of pain tore from my lips. Serena rushed to my side, rubbing her eyes and fake-crying. “Aria, what happened! Oh, no, I’m so scared…” Mom’s first instinct was to call 911. Steven, however, stormed over and roared at me. “Aria! How dare you fall like that! What if it leaves a scar!” Victoria was an extreme perfectionist. She treated her adopted daughter as a masterpiece to be displayed to the world, and scars were unacceptable defects. Seeing Steven’s panic, I knew my plan had worked. I was safe, for now. 4 Mom whirled on Steven. “What are you yelling about! Get out! Aria is staying with me, so don’t you dare raise your voice at her!” Steven couldn’t reveal his scheme, terrified he might lose Serena too. All he could do was stall. “Since Aria’s hurt, let’s get her treated first! We can talk about who gets which child after she’s out of the hospital.” Mom, too worried about me to argue, snapped, “Fine.” Steven used the excuse of needing a cigarette to slip outside and call Victoria. Knowing the outcome was sealed, Serena tugged on Mom’s sleeve, her voice cloyingly innocent. “Mommy, Aria was dancing around on the stairs and fell all by herself. She almost tripped me, too. When she gets better, you have to…” Mom cut her off. “Go sit over there for a minute.” A moment later, Steven returned, his face transformed. He had his orders from Victoria. “Clara, I’ve decided. I’m taking Serena. You can have Aria. From now on, let’s not contact each other unless it’s absolutely necessary.” “Good,” Mom said, her voice clipped and final. Just like last time, they decided to sell the house, and Mom took her half—eight hundred thousand dollars in cash—upfront. With Victoria backing him, Steven was surprisingly quick to pay. While I was in the hospital, Steven couldn’t wait. He flew with Serena to New York to present her to Victoria for inspection. I eagerly awaited their fate. When I was discharged, Mom and I left that painful city and started a new life in Philadelphia. She still worked as a cleaner by day and sold food from a cart at night to put me through school and raise me. I was never ashamed of her work. Instead, I found every way I could to help. The one good thing that came from Victoria’s “training” was that it had made me brilliant. Healed by my mother’s love, I slowly went from repressing those memories to letting my true intelligence shine. When I became the city’s top scorer in the middle school championships and won a ten-thousand-dollar prize, Mom cried. She asked me carefully, “Aria, is my job… not respectable enough? If you become a top scorer in high school, with all the reporters… will you have to tell them your mother is a cleaner?” I hugged her tight. “Of course I will! I’ll tell the whole world how hard you worked to raise me. Without you, there would be no me.” Her voice broke. “Aria, you are my pride and joy.” 5 With some savings in the bank, and at my suggestion, Mom decided to open a small roast duck bistro. It was my summer break, so I was there to help. For the first three days, we offered a massive discount, and the place was packed. On the fourth day, with prices back to normal, things were much quieter. I had just finished prepping vegetables when Steven and Serena walked in. Steven, in a sharp suit, and Serena, in a flowing designer dress, looked utterly out of place. I rushed over to block them. “What are you doing here?” Serena smoothed her skirt, looking at me with disdain. “Still playing the saint, Aria? Do you have any idea that the brooch I’m wearing is worth more than your mother will make in a lifetime of running this pathetic little restaurant?” She had clearly adapted to and was reveling in her life of obscene wealth. Given her intellect, I couldn’t imagine how she’d passed Victoria’s twisted tests, even with the advantage of rebirth. How did she do it? Just then, Steven whispered a warning to her. “Don’t forget why we’re here. Don’t upset your mother.” Then he turned to me with a greasy smile. “Aria, it’s me, Daddy. I heard your mom opened a shop, so I brought Serena to show some support. It’s been so many years…” “My mother and I are doing just fine,” I cut him off. “We don’t want to see you. Please leave.” Serena exploded. “Don’t you fucking pretend with me, Aria!” “Get out!” I roared back. Steven stepped between us. “Aria, don’t mind Serena. Look, your… Auntie Victoria invited you to come visit. She likes you very much.” So, Victoria was willing to tolerate a scar on my forehead. She still wanted to lure me to her mansion. Just how useless was Serena? And why did she keep her around? “What are you thinking about!” Serena snapped. “It’s an honor that Mother wants to see you!” “I only have one mother,” I said coldly. “Her name is Clara. And I don’t have a father or a sister.” Steven’s smile faltered. “Aria, just think about it, okay? Your Auntie Vic… she really admires you.” “No,” I refused. “Not interested.” Steven’s composure finally shattered. “Don’t think you’re so great just because you were a middle school champion! The Sterling family is richer than God! This is your only chance to climb up in the world!” I was unmoved. “It’s a climb I’m not interested in making.” Serena erupted in a fury. “Dad, forget it! Let’s not take her back! So what if she was a top scorer? The country is full of them! Mother can sponsor any number of smarter, more cooperative girls! Look at her, working in this dump. She can’t even focus on her studies. She’s so arrogant. In three years, she’ll never beat me on the SATs!” Steven spat in my direction. “Ungrateful little wolf.” He turned to Serena. “Let’s go ask your mother first.” After they left, I turned and saw my mother sitting on a stool, staring blankly, tears streaming down her face. “Aria,” she began, her voice trembling, “it’s all my fault. The truth is…”

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The moment I was reborn, my sister had already been drugged. “Ash, I’m so hot…” Her warm breath ghosted over my earlobe. But this time, instead of making the same mistake, I knocked on the door of the man she truly loved. In my last life, I fell for my adoptive sister. Fueled by alcohol, I gave in to the impulses I had long suppressed. Even though I knew she was calling out another man’s name, I carried her into my own bedroom. The next morning, when we were discovered, she was forced to marry me. On our wedding day, the love of her life, her “white moonlight,” went hiking to clear his head. He fell from a cliff. As he lay dying, he sent her one last text message. [My dear Luna, let’s be together in our next life.] My sister, Luna, stared at that message in silence for an entire night. Then, during our honeymoon, she pushed me off the very same cliff. I clung to the edge, begging her to pull me up, but she just laughed, a wild, terrible sound. She pressed her foot onto my hand, grinding it back and forth into the sharp rock. Through her maniacal laughter, I finally understood. She blamed me for his death. And then I woke up, back in the present, watching my sister, flushed and feverish with desire. 1 “I’m so hot, Ashton…” she murmured, her voice thick with a desire that wasn’t for me. “Hot… help me…” Under the influence of the aphrodisiac, Luna’s consciousness was fading. Her glossy red lips were slightly parted, emitting soft, breathy moans. The feeling of her soft body pressed against my arm was a visceral reminder that I had been given a second chance. In my last life, emboldened by alcohol, I lost all reason to her whispered pleas. I crossed a forbidden line, and it led to my brutal death at the bottom of a ravine. But now, reborn, I refused to repeat that mistake. Ashton, the man she loved, was staying in the guest room on the second floor. The moment he opened the door, I pushed Luna into his arms. “My sister’s had too much to drink,” I said, my voice flat. “She’s been calling your name.” I turned and walked away, ignoring the complex look in Ashton’s eyes. The sound of his door closing behind me was a profound relief. Because of one selfish choice, my past life had ended with Luna forced into a loveless marriage with me, and Ashton dead. Luna’s heart had filled with a murderous hatred, and she’d changed our honeymoon plans specifically to lead me to that cliff and exact her revenge. Even now, the visceral terror of that fall lingered in my soul. This time, I had given them their chance. Surely, the ending would be different now. The next morning, a servant woke me. As I entered the dining room, my eyes met Luna’s. Unlike the dead, hollow look she’d had in our last life, this time her eyes were practically overflowing with joy. Seeing me, she cleared her throat and lifted her hand from under the table, her fingers intertwined with Ashton’s. “Now that everyone’s here, I have an announcement,” she declared. “Ashton and I have decided to get married. We’ll let you all know the date once it’s set.” “I’ll take good care of Luna,” Ashton said with a slight bow. “Soon, we’ll all be family. I hope you’ll all be patient with the new guy.” Watching them, a perfectly matched pair, my mind drifted. If this were my past life, what would I be doing right now? Throwing things? Screaming? My silence seemed to bother Ashton. “Caden isn’t saying anything,” he teased, a malicious glint in his eye. “Don’t you want your sister to get married? Or… do you just hate me?” I snapped back to reality just in time to see the corner of his mouth twitch into a smirk before it vanished. He immediately turned to Luna, his expression one of wounded innocence. “Luna, Caden is your brother. I don’t want any trouble between you two. If he can’t accept this right away, I can leave for a while.” Luna frowned at me, her gaze sharp. “Ashton is going to be your brother-in-law. If I see you giving him that sour face again, don’t blame me for being harsh. Do you understand?” I had no intention of getting between them this time, but they seemed determined to drag me in. My already small appetite vanished completely. I mumbled that I understood and turned to leave. Luna slammed her hand on the table. “Get back here and eat. Are you going on a hunger strike just because I said a few words to you? Where did you pick up such a pathetic habit?” I had already decided to leave this house soon. I didn’t want to spend my last days here fighting. Seeing the anger in her eyes, I sat back down and forced a few bites of food. Then I stood up and smiled. “I’m done, Luna. Ashton. You two enjoy your meal.” I had barely reached my room when the doorknob turned. Luna walked in, her expression serious. 2 “You should knock before entering.” My words made her brow furrow. “Are you avoiding me?” she asked abruptly. “Or are you throwing a tantrum because of Ashton?” “We’re not children anymore. I just think we should be mindful of appearances. I don’t want your fiancé to get the wrong idea.” I shook my head and offered a small, formal bow. “I’m very happy for you and Ashton. I wish you a long and happy life together.” I tried to sound playful, but for some reason, it only seemed to anger her more. “Are you sure you mean that?” “At your eighteenth birthday party, you kissed me while I was drunk and asleep. On your twentieth, you stood outside my door all night. On our graduation trip, you buried a stone with our names on it under the lover’s rock at the shrine…” As I stared at her in shock, a cruel smile spread across her face. “Caden, did you really think I didn’t know? You thought you were being so clever, hiding your feelings, but you were so obvious. Everyone in this family knows you’re in love with me!” She lifted my chin with her fingertips, her red lips parting. “I was adopted by our parents before you were even born. We were raised as brother and sister. But the moment you found out we weren’t related by blood, you started having inappropriate feelings for me.” “And what makes me angriest,” she continued, her voice dripping with venom, “is that you knew I loved Ashton, yet you deliberately antagonized him at every turn.” In the privacy of my room, she unleashed all the malice she had kept hidden. “So you should be grateful you never confessed your feelings to my face.” “Because if you had… it would have only disgusted me.” Even though I had already let go of my feelings for her in this life, her words still sent a sharp, stabbing pain through my heart. I lifted my head, meeting her gaze, searching for an answer for the me of the past. “In your eyes, was I really that terrible?” “What else would you be?” She pulled her hand back and wiped her fingertips with a tissue from the desk. “Last night, even though I was drugged, I wasn’t completely unconscious. I saw the desire in your eyes. And I’m telling you, if you had dared to do anything, I would have killed you.” She threw the used tissue at me. “The thought of you touching me makes my skin crawl.” I never knew. I never knew she had started hating me so long ago. I pressed my lips together, forcing back the tears. It was a good thing I had already moved on. If I hadn’t, this truth would have been unbearable. “I understand,” I said, my voice low. “I’ll be more careful from now on.” I lowered my head. My professor from abroad had just emailed me, accepting my application. I just had to get through these last few days. I had no fight left in me. But I didn’t know Luna could be even crueler. She walked to the window, glanced outside, and then turned back to me. “Ashton’s room is a bit damp. He’s not sleeping well. Your room gets the best sunlight. You can move out today. He’ll take this one.” Sunlight streamed through the window, framing her in a halo of light. I couldn’t quite make out her expression. Her voice turned cold. “What, you’re not willing?” I kept my head down, my voice as neutral as I could make it. “No. This was your room to begin with. You can give it to whomever you want.” This room had been Luna’s a long time ago. But when I was seven, I nearly drowned and suffered from a persistent chill for a long time afterward. She had insisted I take her room, the one that got the most sun. I had almost forgotten. She used to be good to me. But now, she had someone she loved more. And she was giving him all her affection, without reservation. Luna narrowed her eyes. “You’re really okay with this?” I just grunted in affirmation. It wasn’t until the servants had moved almost all of my belongings into another room that she finally spoke again, unable to contain her suspicion. “You used to cry and throw a fit if I was nice to anyone else. Why are you suddenly so well-behaved? Are you plotting something?” She was testing me. “I don’t care what you’re planning, but if you hurt Ashton, don’t blame me for what I do. You know what I’m capable of.” The last of my things were moved into the guest room. I stepped inside, and just before closing the door, I looked back at her. “A well-behaved, obedient little brother. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?” “I’m not going to target anyone. I just want to be left alone.” I shut the door, cutting off her hissed reply: “You’ve got a lot of nerve.” She was angry. But this time, I wasn’t going to comfort her.

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