1 At my own wedding, as my husband Alexis and I exchanged rings, my sister Gwyneth burst into the chapel, stark naked. “Jenny,” she cried, tears streaming down her face. “I know you think I’m trash, I know you cut up all my clothes to stop me from coming, but I promised you I’d be here to see you married, and I always keep my promises!” Alexis, furious that I had supposedly provoked my fragile sister, decided on a punishment. He sent me to Serpent Isle, the one place in the world I feared most. There, I was transformed. I became a serpent-woman, a living curiosity, a plaything for men with… unique tastes. Six months later, Alexis came to take me home. Our entire family praised my new, docile demeanor. Until, that is, I caught a rat and, to their horror, swallowed it alive. “The isle is a paradise!” Alexis raged. “It’s filled with harmless, gentle snakes! I sent you there for a little self-reflection, not for you to pull these disgusting stunts just to spite me!” Just then, the scent of a powerful male pheromone filled the air. An insatiable hunger gripped me. My eyes involuntarily shifted, the pupils narrowing into vertical slits. My body contorted into an impossible arc as I lunged toward the cool, scaled body of a massive python. — When my husband, Alexis, came to collect me from Serpent Isle, he made a grand spectacle of it, bringing all our friends and family along on his private yacht. I was dressed in a pure white dress and led out to meet their astonished gazes. Alexis’s face was grim. “Jenny, have you learned your lesson these past six months? I expect you to leave Gwyneth alone when we get back. Do not disappoint me again.” I flicked my tongue out, tasting the air, sampling the uninteresting scent of the man before me. Alexis’s eyes fixed on my red lips, and for a moment, he seemed taken aback. Then, a flicker of satisfaction crossed his face. “I’ve never seen this playful side of you. It seems the island’s beauty has truly cleansed your wicked heart. I’ve prepared a welcome-home party for you on the yacht.” He took my hand to lead me aboard the lavish vessel. The moment our skin touched, he flinched, nearly letting go. “The sun is so strong here, why is your skin so cold?” He frowned, his brow furrowed in concern. “This temperature… it’s not human. Are you sick?” His words were a meaningless drone. I couldn’t process his commands. As I stared blankly at him, Gwyneth rushed forward, her face a mask of anxiety. “Alexis, she’s been on the island for half a year. She’s acclimated. Of course her body temperature is different from ours.” The sight of Gwyneth sent alarms shrieking through my mind. My blood ran cold. “Hiss… Hiss…” A warning sound escaped my throat as I backed away from her. Under the confused and disturbed stares of the crowd, Gwyneth covered her face and began to sob. “Jenny… after all this time, you still hate me this much? You still wish I were dead…” Alexis immediately pulled Gwyneth behind him, his eyes blazing with fury. “Jenny! And here I thought you’d finally changed. It didn’t take long for your true colors to show.” “Gwyneth may have come from nothing, a charity case our family took in, but in her heart, she is a thousand times kinder and better than you will ever be!” His words were a death sentence. Suddenly, every finger was pointed at me. Even my own parents looked at me with bitter disappointment. “Jenny, this family’s entire fortune will be yours one day. Gwyneth asks for so little, just a place at our table. Why must your heart be so small, so unable to tolerate her?” The party meant to celebrate my return had become a trial to condemn my sins. I felt their malice pressing in from all sides. Overwhelmed by fear, I scrambled under a nearby banquet table to hide. “What, Jenny? A monster like you can feel fear?” Alexis’s voice dripped with contempt. “Who do you think you’re fooling with this pathetic act?” His hand landed on my shoulder, intending to drag me out from my hiding place. 2 Instead, his grip caught on the loose skin on my back. He tore off a whole sheet that hadn’t finished molting. I cried out in pain, rubbing my raw back against the deck, and scrambled deeper into the darkness beneath the table. Alexis’s pupils contracted as if he’d been struck by lightning. Forgetting himself, he dropped to his hands and knees, his face level with mine. When he spoke, his voice was strangled. “Jenny… what’s wrong with you? Why is your skin… peeling off like that? Are you hurt?” Gwyneth’s choked sob cut through the silence. “The sun on the island is relentless. Her skin is so delicate, it must be a terrible sunburn. It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, Alexis would never have been angry enough to send her here.” “It’s not your fault, dear,” my mother cooed, pulling Gwyneth into a comforting embrace. “Jenny is my daughter, but I can’t ignore the truth. She’s a grown woman. Does she not know how to stay out of the sun?” “I think she did it on purpose,” she added, her voice hardening. “She knew we were coming to get her, so she deliberately burned herself. A pathetic ploy for sympathy.” At my mother’s words, Alexis’s face turned to stone. He ignored my struggles, grabbing my ankle and dragging me out from under the table. The raw, bloody skin of my back scraped against the rough wood of the deck, sending agony shooting through me. Alexis didn’t even seem to notice. He just glared down at me, his voice cold. “Is this your master plan, Jenny? It seems you’re not only cruel to others, but to yourself as well.” “Think of all the horrible things you’ve done to Gwyneth over the years. You forced her to show up naked at our wedding! All I did was send you on a six-month vacation to a natural paradise. That’s barely a punishment at all!” I ignored him. The blood loss had left me weak, and a primal need for sustenance consumed me. Just then, a large rat scurried out from the yacht’s galley. The guests shrieked and leaped onto chairs. My eyes lit up. With a feral gleam, I lunged. As Alexis and my parents watched in stunned horror, I clamped my jaw around the rodent and, with a sickening gulp, swallowed it whole. “Ah!” my mother screamed, a sound of pure anguish. “Is that my daughter? Six months of isolation on that island and she’s lost her very humanity?” Alexis looked as if he might faint. “Jenny, I know you’re afraid of snakes. But Serpent Isle is beautiful, and the snakes there are harmless and gentle! I don’t care how angry you are with me, you can’t keep degrading yourself with these disgusting, self-destructive acts!” As if on cue, Gwyneth dropped to her knees and began slapping her own face, weeping hysterically. “It’s my fault! If it weren’t for me, she would never have become like this! Please, take her home! I’ll stay here on Serpent Isle for the rest of my life to atone for my sins, just so she can be happy!” My mother’s tears stopped. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “You wretched girl! You’d turn yourself into an animal, abandon every shred of human decency, just to drive Gwyneth away?” Alexis’s eyes were black pools of fury as he stared at me. A slow, chilling smile spread across his lips, sending a shiver down my spine. “You like pretending to be a snake, Jenny? Fine. Then let’s get you some snakes to play with.” He snapped his fingers. A moment later, one of his men appeared, holding a large canvas bag. He tossed it onto the deck in front of me. It writhed. “I know you’re terrified of snakes, Jenny. You can’t even look at a rope if it’s coiled the wrong way without freezing up.” He stared at me, his eyes gleaming with cold calculation. “Apologize to Gwyneth right now. Swear, in front of everyone, that you will never trouble her again. Or I will open this bag and let you experience the pleasure of dancing with serpents.” 3 When I didn’t respond, a flicker of pity crossed Alexis’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “Lock her in the karaoke lounge with the snakes,” he commanded his men. “Don’t let her out until she begs for forgiveness.” They threw me into the glass-walled room, followed by the squirming bag. Alexis stood outside, arms crossed, confidently waiting for my screams. It was true, I used to be terrified of snakes. Even after the scientists at the Serpent Isle Institute had slowly, painstakingly remade my body, the sight of a snake still made me tremble. But then, to complete my conditioning, to make me forget I was ever human, they threw me into a pit. A pit with thousands of snakes and no other food. To survive, I had to hunt. To live, I had to become the predator. In that pit, it was kill or be killed, devour or be devoured. After two months in the pit, snakes were no longer a source of fear. They were a source of food. As I sank my teeth into a green viper, the reflection in the glass showed Alexis staggering back. “Jenny, are you insane? What are you doing…?” He didn’t understand. One small rat couldn’t possibly satisfy my hunger. This bag of colorful, writhing snakes was the greatest gift he could have given me. While Alexis and my parents watched, their faces masks of pure horror, I tilted my head back and swallowed the thrashing serpent whole. With a strangled cry, Alexis burst into the room. He tore the half-eaten snake from my hands and threw it aside, then pulled me into a desperate embrace. “That’s enough, Jenny. Stop it. Stop torturing yourself like this. Please, can we just stop?” I didn’t understand why he was taking my food. But the scientists at the Institute, desperate for funding, had pimped me out after my transformation. They made me service men with… special interests. I learned that to get food, to fill my belly, I had to make men happy. I parted my lips, letting my forked tongue taste the air, and obediently knelt before him. I tucked my hair behind my ears and reached for the buckle of his belt. Disbelief warred with something else in his eyes. His voice was a raw, broken rasp. “Jenny… what did they teach you on that island? Have you forgotten who you are? You are an heiress of this family.” He grabbed my hands, his face contorted in pain. “How can you use these hands—hands that have won national piano competitions, hands that are as graceful as a goddess’s—for something so degrading, so base?” His knuckles were white from the force of his grip. I didn’t understand, I only knew that he was hurting me, so I pulled my hands away. He was the one who sent me to this island. He was the one who allowed my body to be twisted into a shape that pleased others, my mind to be broken and remolded into that of a snake. Every part of me—my hands, my mouth, my body—had been forced to perform the most depraved acts just to survive. And now, he was calling me cheap. I stared at him, my gaze unwavering, and he couldn’t even meet my eyes. He pressed his lips into a thin line. “Find out,” he snarled to the empty air. “Find out what the hell happened to my wife on that island!” While we waited, he pulled me onto his lap, cradling my hands in his own, trying to warm them. He didn’t know that my blood had been replaced. That I was a cold-blooded creature now. He could hold me forever and never make me warm. Half an hour later, two of his bodyguards dragged the nanny who was supposed to have cared for me onto the yacht. “I entrusted my wife’s well-being to you,” Alexis said, his voice dangerously low. “Perhaps you can explain to me why, in just six short months, she has become this… thing. Not quite human, not quite snake.” The nanny trembled uncontrollably.

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At the final presentation for our startup incubator competition, Joss’s childhood friend, Hailey, demanded to be made team leader. She needed the extra academic honors it would grant to secure a full-ride scholarship to the graduate program. For the good of the project, I refused. She wasn’t qualified. In a fit of rage, she dropped out of the competition and let her parents drag her back to their dead-end town in the rust belt to be married off. I took the reins, and our team won first place. We all got offered spots in the MBA program, and our venture became the talk of the business school. Later, I married Joss. When our company went public, we celebrated on a yacht. As I stood by the railing, six months pregnant, Joss shoved me into the churning black water. He just watched as I drowned. I screamed, my lungs filling with saltwater, “Why?” His face was a mask of cold fury. “If you hadn’t been so selfish, if you hadn’t stolen that leadership spot from her, Hailey would never have been forced into that marriage. She wouldn’t have been beaten to death by her husband. This is what you owe her.” I opened my eyes again, and I was back. Back on the day it all began. … “Lila, please,” a familiar, cloying voice whined. “I’m just a few points short of qualifying for the Dean’s Fellowship. The team leader position in the incubator competition comes with a huge honors bonus. Can you just… let me have it?” The words hit me like a physical blow. I flinched, my eyes darting to the clock on the wall. I was back. I had been reborn into the exact moment Hailey made her demand. In my first life, I had considered the facts. Hailey wasn’t a business major. She had no experience. My parents had promised to invest in our project and connect us with industry titans for mentorship. I couldn’t risk it. I had to refuse her, telling her it wasn’t a good fit. I tried to soften the blow, explaining that if the team did well, we would all be recognized, maybe even all get fellowships. But she took it as a personal insult. A humiliation. She accused me of looking down on her, dropped out of university, and went home with her parents to be married off. After she left, I used my family’s connections to pull in a staggering amount of seed funding and resources. We crushed the competition. Our entire team was offered the Dean’s Fellowship, and we became rising stars in the tech startup scene. Three years later, I married Joss. By the time I was pregnant with our first child, Joss had taken over the reins of my family’s company, and our own startup had just gone public. He was on top of the world, a celebrated mogul. He suggested a private celebration on a yacht, just the two of us. Then, when my back was turned, he kicked me into the sea. The blood from my womb, from our child, blossomed in the dark water like a horrifying crimson flower. I begged him to save our baby, but he just laughed, a cruel, sharp sound, and hurled a heavy block of stone towards my head. “If you hadn’t been so damn selfish and forced Hailey out,” he’d snarled, his voice a venomous hiss, “she wouldn’t have been married off, pregnant, and beaten to death. You owe her this, Lila.” Only in my last moments did I understand. He had hated me, truly hated me, for all those years. “Lila?” Joss’s sharp voice pulled me back to the present. He frowned, grabbing my arm. “Did you hear us? Hailey needs this more than you do. Just give her the spot.” I wrenched my arm away, my gaze shifting from his impatient face to Hailey’s perfectly crafted expression of pitiful vulnerability. A cold, bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Let me get this straight,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “When we were forming this team, didn’t we all agree? Whoever brings in the funding, whoever contributes the most, gets to be the leader. Now that I’ve secured the investors, you want to kick me to the curb?” Hailey’s eyes instantly welled with tears. “That’s not what I mean, Lila! I just want a chance to stay in school. I’m from a poor family… If I don’t get that fellowship, my parents will force me to go home and marry some old man. Please, just have some pity on me.” And then, for dramatic effect, she sank to her knees before me. The theatrical gesture immediately drew the attention of everyone in the common room. Classmates started to drift over, their curiosity piqued. Hailey, sensing her audience, began to sob even more pathetically. “Lila, I don’t want to go back to that dead-end town and marry some stranger! Please, don’t force me to drop out of school!” The onlookers, hearing her desperate plea, turned on me. “Lila, what the hell are you doing? Why are you trying to force her to drop out? That’s unbelievably cruel.” “Just because her family doesn’t have money doesn’t mean you can bully her like this!” “Wow, Lila. I knew your family was well-off, but I didn’t think you were the type to throw your weight around. This is disgusting.” Joss put a hand on my shoulder, his voice a low, patronizing murmur. “Lila, I know you can be a little… spoiled sometimes, but this is about Hailey’s entire future. You can’t ruin her life over something so small. It’s just a title. What’s the big deal? It’s not like it means that much to you.” His words ignited a firestorm in my chest. It’s just a title? When you all used my leadership as an excuse to dump the work on me, saying, “You’re the leader, you have to take responsibility,” it was more than a title then. All those all-nighters I pulled writing the business plan, where was Hailey? When I had to humiliate myself, begging for meetings with dozens of venture capital firms, drinking until I threw up at networking events to secure our funding, where was Hailey then? And now, with the finish line in sight, when she wants to swoop in and claim the glory, it suddenly becomes “just a title.” “I am not forcing her to do anything,” I stated, my voice dangerously calm. “And let’s be clear: I secured every dollar of our funding and every partnership we have. On what grounds does she deserve to replace me?” Joss scoffed. “Oh, stop acting like you’re the only reason we got funded, Lila. They invested because the team itself is brilliant. Because I’m on the team. Hailey could have done it just as easily. Hell, she probably could have raised even more.” Hailey blushed, looking up at Joss with doe-eyed adoration. “Lila, you can’t deny the strength of our team just to make yourself look more important. Everyone knows Joss is a financial prodigy. I’m sure the investors were betting on him, anyway.” Joss preened, puffing out his chest. “Hailey’s right. I was willing to let it slide before, but if you’re going to be this selfish and try to ruin her future, I won’t stand for it.” I met his arrogant gaze and smiled, a slow, chilling curve of my lips. “Fine. She can have it.” Joss’s face flooded with satisfaction. “See? That’s the Lila I know. You’re being reasonable. You’ll have plenty of other opportunities, but this is Hailey’s only shot.” I nodded agreeably. “Well then, good luck with your project.” Hailey, sensing I was about to walk away, panicked. “Lila, wait. Even though you’re not the leader anymore, you’re still part of the team. So… all the work you were doing? You should probably keep doing it.” I laughed, a sharp, incredulous sound. “Are you serious, Hailey? As team leader, I was responsible for over seventy percent of the project’s workload. You fought tooth and nail to take my place, and now you expect me to keep doing the lion’s share of the work? The audacity is staggering.” Hailey’s face paled. “That’s not what I meant… It’s just, the competition is almost over. It’s too late to change everything around now.” “Oh, I know,” I said, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper loud enough for the onlookers to hear. “You know the competition is almost over. That’s why you picked this exact moment to swoop in and steal the credit, isn’t it?” A ripple of understanding went through the crowd. Their expressions shifted from judgment to dawning realization. Murmurs of “schemer,” “user,” and “leech” started to circulate. Everyone had seen me running myself ragged for weeks, the first to arrive on campus and the last to leave. Hailey’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time, no one was buying it. Joss, ever her white knight, stepped in front of her, glaring at me. “Stop twisting her words, Lila! Hailey is just trying to do what’s best for the team. She’s the leader now, which means she’s in charge. You’ll do what she says. And if you refuse to follow orders, we’ll have no choice but to kick you out.” My eyes widened in mock horror, and then I burst into enthusiastic applause. “Excellent! Consider me gone. I quit.” Joss froze, his face a picture of disbelief. “Lila, don’t be impulsive. Hailey is a good person. She won’t hold a grudge against you. If you walk away now, you’ll regret it.” A genuine, carefree smile spread across my face. “Regret it? Oh, I don’t think so. I’m out. From this moment on, I have absolutely nothing to do with you or your little project.” Without a backward glance, I turned and walked away, leaving their stunned, ugly faces behind me. A startup? Who needs the stress? Why grind my life away starting a business from scratch when I could just go home and inherit a multi-billion-dollar corporation? Sure, Joss was talented. Especially after my family had unknowingly funded his rise, burnishing his reputation until he was a golden boy in the finance department. But right now? He wasn’t the legend he would become. His name alone couldn’t open doors or command millions. The investment I had secured wasn’t for him. It was just pocket money from my uncles, a little something to keep their favorite niece happy while she “played” at being an entrepreneur. That evening, I posted a simple update to my private social media story: “Stepping away from the incubator project. On to new things!” The comments from my family flooded in immediately. One uncle wrote: “Quitting already, sweetie? Don’t worry, you can ‘start’ as many businesses as you want. Your dad and us uncles have plenty of cash for you to play around with. Failure is just part of the game!” Another chimed in: “Wait, you’re not doing the startup anymore? Guess I’ll pull my investment then.” My cousin, Maria, who went to the same university, saw the post and added a comment explaining the whole sordid story of how I was bullied into quitting. The comment section exploded. My uncles, furious, declared they were pulling their funding that very night and threatened to blacklist Joss and his little group from ever getting a dime from anyone they knew. I didn’t stop them. The next day, I went to class as usual. With the weight of the competition off my shoulders, I felt lighter, free to focus on my actual studies and prepare for grad school applications. After class, I got a call from my father. He wanted me to draft a proposal for a small partnership deal he was considering. It was a common exercise he gave me, a low-stakes way to learn the ropes of the family business. That afternoon, I took the finished proposal to my father’s office at the Grant Corporation headquarters. He read it over, a pleased smile spreading across his face. “Excellent work, Lila. Sharp and concise.” As I was leaving the skyscraper, someone bumped squarely into me. I looked up. It was Joss. His eyes fell to the file in my hands, and a smug grin lit up his face. “Lila. I knew you couldn’t stay away,” he said, his voice oozing with condescension. “You knew we had a meeting at Grant Corp today, didn’t you? Did you prepare this new proposal for us?” He reached for the file, but I sidestepped him smoothly. “You’re mistaken. This is for me.” His brow furrowed. “Stop playing games, Lila. If you’re not giving it to us, what are you going to do? Start your own company?” I paused. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. But… he was right. I had done almost all the work. I had the plan, the connections, the drive. Why couldn’t I? A slow, dangerous smile spread across my face. “You know what, Joss? That’s a great idea. I think I will.” And with that, I walked away, ignoring the string of angry, sputtering curses he hurled at my back. Three days later, I officially submitted my own solo project proposal to the incubator program, with all the original funding now redirected to me. As I was leaving campus that afternoon, Joss and Hailey blocked my path.

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I had been in a coma for three years, a sacrifice I made to save my brother and his three best friends. When I finally woke up, my parents, my brother, and the three boys who were my childhood protectors swarmed my bedside, their excitement a frantic whirlwind. But I met their joy with a cool detachment. I knew the truth. I knew that when the hospital called to tell them I was awake, they didn’t rush to my side. They stayed to finish celebrating their adopted daughter’s birthday party first. In the three years I was gone, a new girl had quietly taken my place, inheriting my life, my family, my everything. A whisper of a memory, a premonition from my long sleep, had warned me of this. It told me I was destined to become the villain of this story, a girl consumed by jealousy, fighting to win back the affection of my family. A girl who would be despised by everyone and ultimately bring about her own tragic end. A cold smile touched my lips. Fight for them? No, thank you. A family and friends like that? I’d rather have nothing at all. 1 The television in my hospital room was broadcasting live from the lavish birthday party of the Rhodes family’s new “little princess.” The young heirs of the city’s most powerful families—the Reeds, the Greys, the Shaws—were all in attendance. Four handsome, impeccably dressed young men surrounded a beautiful girl, singing to her, a perfect portrait of adoration. It was a scene straight out of a fairy tale. I stared at the familiar faces on the screen. My father, my mother, my brother, and the three boys who were once my entire world. They already knew I was awake. The nurse had called them from my room, right next to my bed. My father had answered. Yet, there they were, their smiles serene, their focus entirely on the party, ensuring it reached its perfect, sparkling conclusion before they even thought of me. The nurse had just finished a round of physical therapy with me, and I was settling back into bed to rest when a frantic pounding of footsteps echoed from the hallway. The door to my room burst open, shattering the quiet. “Rory!” “Rory, you’re finally awake!” A sea of emotional faces, a torrent of relieved words, all painting a picture that my waking was the most important event in the world. If I hadn’t just seen their gentle, devoted gazes fixed on another girl on that television screen. If they hadn’t taken so damn long to get here. Maybe then I would have believed they were still the same parents, the same brother, the same boys I once knew. My expression remained flat. I shifted my gaze to the girl standing hesitantly in the doorway, still wearing the beautiful white dress from the party on TV. My mother noticed my stare and quickly, gently, beckoned her forward. “Rory, darling, this is your sister, Celine. She’s the daughter of your father’s dear friend who passed away. We adopted her three years ago.” “These past three years… if it weren’t for Celine keeping us company, I don’t know how I would have survived the grief,” Mom said, her voice thick with emotion. “That’s right,” Dad added with a heavy sigh. “Celine was like a gift from heaven during our darkest time.” My brother, Alex, smiled warmly at her. “Celine, now you have an older sister. Go on, say hello.” Celine looked at me, her eyes shining with what looked like genuine emotion. “Sister, I’m so happy you’re finally awake. Mom, Dad, and Alex have been so worried. I’ve always said, if my sister waking up meant I had to leave this family, I would do it in a heartbeat.” “Celine, don’t say such silly things,” Mom chided, pulling her into a tight hug. “You are never to talk about leaving the Rhodes family, do you hear me? You are a part of this family. And now you have a sister to look out for you.” “She’s right, you silly girl. No one is ever making you leave,” Dad added, his voice full of affection. “You’re always talking about leaving. Don’t you want us anymore? You’d break our hearts,” Alex said with a mock-pout. “Alex, of course I want you all!” Celine blushed, stamping her foot playfully, which made everyone chuckle. “And if anyone in the Rhodes house gives you a hard time, you come straight to me. I’ll still treat you like a princess,” said Caleb Reed, one of my three childhood friends. “Hey, what about me? Why does she have to go to you?” Julian Grey chimed in with a huff. “Celine likes me best, so obviously she’d come to my place,” Leo Shaw declared. “Get lost, who said she likes you best!” the others jeered. “Alright, you can all stop dreaming. Celine is our family’s princess. No one would dare bully her,” my brother, Alex, announced proudly. My parents just smiled and shook their heads. Celine, blushing, leaned against my mother. And just like that, in my hospital room, the universe shifted to revolve around her. I, the girl lying in the hospital bed, was a mere afterthought. I turned my head away, bored, just in time to catch the look Celine shot me over my mother’s shoulder. It was a look of pure, unadulterated triumph. 2 I used to be the Rhodes family’s little princess. My brother and the three boys—Caleb, Julian, and Leo—loved to dote on me. They called me their little sister, their princess, and swore they would always protect me. If anyone ever dared to bully me, they’d make them pay. I grew up wrapped in a cocoon of love and affection. That’s why, three years ago, when a horrific car crash left my brother and the boys bloodied and unconscious, I, the only one who had worn a seatbelt, was the only one with minor injuries. I saw the car leaking gasoline, saw the first flicker of flames, and knew what was coming. Sobbing, screaming their names, I dragged them one by one from the wreckage. But I wasn’t strong enough to get them all clear of the danger zone. I looked at these boys, my protectors, the ones who had cherished me my whole life, and made a decision. My body trembling with a fear so profound it was paralyzing, I climbed into the driver’s seat of the mangled car. I slammed my foot on the gas, the nearly destroyed vehicle lurching away from them. When I finally brought it to a stop a safe distance away, I scrambled out, trying to run. It was too late. The force of the explosion behind me threw me into darkness. During the three years I was unconscious, I lived in a long, vivid dream. I dreamed that my family adopted a girl my age. At first, when she tried to touch things in my room, my brother would stop her, telling her those were his sister’s things and no one else could touch them. At first, the three boys ignored her, saying the only little sister they had was Rory Rhodes. But slowly, everything changed. The girl’s fragile, helpless, and eager-to-please act began to worm its way into their hearts. Their weekly visits to my bedside became monthly, then quarterly. The last time they came before I woke up in the dream, half a year had passed. They were too busy taking the new girl to amusement parks, to see the Northern Lights, helping her with her studies, celebrating her birthday… Then, in the dream, I woke up after three years. They arrived late, with the girl in tow. Having been spoiled by their affection my whole life, I watched them fawn over Celine at my bedside and angrily demanded she leave my room. But in that moment, no one cared about the feelings of a girl who had just woken from a coma. They spoke gently, but their words were firm, urging me to accept my new sister. After that, Celine framed me for one thing after another. They never listened to my explanations. They always believed her, scolding me for being difficult, expressing their deep disappointment in me. They had once spoiled and protected me, but when I, wronged and hurt, acted out with the same stubbornness they had once found endearing, their faces now held only disappointment and disgust. The last time, unable to bear it anymore, I ran out of the house and straight into the path of a car, ending my short, ridiculous life. When I woke up for real this time, I found that everything was happening exactly as it had in the dream. They had adopted a girl named Celine. They hadn’t rushed to the hospital upon hearing I was awake; they had finished her birthday party first. In my room, the focus had instantly shifted to her. I understood then. The dream wasn’t a dream. It was my past life. And this time, I had to change my fate. My father seemed to suddenly remember I was there. He turned to me, his voice gentle. “Rory, are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?” All eyes turned back to me. I looked at the crowd around my bed and smiled faintly. “I seem to recall that three years ago, I was the one who saved my brother and the three of you, correct?” 3 My question hung in the air, making them all pause. They seemed to think it was something that didn’t need to be said aloud. It was understood. That’s why they had rushed to the hospital in such a panic, wasn’t it? “Of course, Rory. You were so brave that day. We’re all incredibly grateful to you for saving our lives,” Alex said softly. Caleb and the others nodded in agreement. “Sister, thank you. Thank you for saving Alex, Caleb, Julian, and Leo. Because of you, I get to see them standing here, whole and healthy. I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough. If you needed my life in exchange for yours right now, I would give it willingly,” Celine said, grabbing my hand, her voice fervent and emotional. As she spoke their names one by one, the four boys looked at her with such tenderness it was practically pouring from their eyes. My own eyes held a flicker of irony. I gently pulled my hand away. “Don’t worry. I just woke up. Your life is of no use to me.” Their brows furrowed slightly at my words, a hint of displeasure in their expressions. I just looked at them. “In that case… could you perhaps convert that gratitude into cash? A million dollars from each of you would be enough. Is that okay?” They all stared at me, stunned again. “Rory, why would you say something like that the moment you wake up?” my mother said, frowning. “You’re a Rhodes. Do you really think you’ll ever have to worry about money?” “That’s right, Rory,” my father added gently. “The most important thing right now is for you to recover. When you come home, you’ll be the young lady of the house, living a life of luxury. You know that.” Another flash of irony in my eyes. In my dream, I hadn’t cared about these things at first. I never brought up what I did three years ago; it felt too transactional for people who were supposed to be my family. But after I returned home, they used my “bullying” of Celine, my “mistakes,” as an excuse to cut off my allowance, to freeze all my expenses, time and time again. I couldn’t even pay for school activities. They punished me whenever they pleased. My life was miserable. So if I didn’t secure a few million for myself now, the monumental act of saving their lives would soon be erased, canceled out by each and every time I “hurt” their precious Celine. In my dream, that voice had offered to help me, to help me win back the love of my parents, my brother, my friends. I had refused it. I had no desire to fight for such fickle affection. I spoke again. “I was in a coma for three years. I’m eighteen now. I’d like to have some money of my own, so I can buy whatever I want, whenever I want. Just to spend it recklessly for a while. Is that okay?” Hearing this, their expressions softened slightly. “Sister, Mom and Dad gave me some pocket money, it’s almost a million dollars. Why don’t I give it all to you? I’m so happy I can finally do something for the boys!” Celine offered, her face bright with eagerness. “Celine.” Alex shook his head with an amused smile. “We don’t need you to use your allowance.” “What a silly, sweet girl,” Julian said, lightly tapping her on the head. They all smiled and shook their heads. “I just wanted to do something for you guys…” Celine mumbled, sticking out her tongue playfully. My mother hugged her dotingly. In the end, of course, they each gave me a million dollars. And I would make very good use of this four million. I would not end up isolated, helpless, and miserable like I did in the dream. 4 After half a month in the hospital, my body had recovered to a normal state, and I returned to the Rhodes family home. “Rory, look at this room. Celine specially gave it up for you. She even put her favorite little bunny on your nightstand,” my mother said gently, leading me into the room. Gave it up. The phrase was laughable. This was the room I had lived in since I was a child. After being in a coma for three years, I now needed someone else’s permission to live in it. I smiled. “Thank you so much, sister. But since you’re already used to living here, I wouldn’t want to force you out. It’s better if you just find me another room.” My mother paused, seemingly taken aback by my politeness. “It’s okay, sister. This room is the biggest and brightest. It should be yours,” Celine said, stepping forward with a considerate expression. My parents and brother were already accustomed to Celine’s sweet and sensible nature, their gazes soft with affection. I shook my head again. “You’re already settled in. Why should you have to move out just because I’m back? If I took your room like this, Mom, Dad, and Alex would surely blame me for being inconsiderate.” I remembered in my dream, Alex had blamed me, saying Celine was suffering from insomnia and stress after giving up her room for me, yet I was still giving her a hard time. Ha. “So please, just give me another room. Or, I could even stay in the maid’s quarters. Anything is fine, as long as my sister isn’t put out,” I said, pre-empting any future accusations that I was making Celine feel wronged. They all hesitated, sensing something was off about my words but unable to pinpoint what it was. “Sister, I wouldn’t feel wronged at all, I—” “Then you should just stay put. You’re the little sister everyone adores, after all,” I interrupted her. And so, I was given another room. … I was in my new room, studying intently. Celine knocked once, then opened the door without waiting for permission and walked right in. “Sister, you weren’t coming downstairs, so I brought you some fruit.” She smiled, carrying a plate towards me. I glanced at her. “Thanks. Just leave it there.” “Okay.” Celine agreed but walked directly towards me anyway. Then, as if by accident, the fruit plate slipped from her hands. “Ah!” She let out a loud shriek and stumbled backward, falling to the floor. “What’s wrong? What happened?” My father, mother, and brother rushed in. “Oh, Celine!” They hurried over to help the fallen girl. “Sniff… Mom…” Celine threw herself into my mother’s arms, looking panicked and frightened. “I… I was just worried sister was working too hard, I wanted to bring her some fruit…” They looked at the scene and immediately understood what they thought had happened. “Rory, Celine was being thoughtful and brought you fruit. If you didn’t want it, fine, but why did you have to push her like that?” Alex accused, frowning. “Rory, you can’t treat your sister this way! How could you do something like that?” my mother said, cradling Celine with a look of disapproval aimed at me. “Rory, apologize to your sister right now,” my father commanded. From the safety of my mother’s embrace, Celine shot me a triumphant, provocative look. 5 I simply turned my laptop screen towards them, and pressed play on the security footage from my room. They all froze when they saw the video. Celine’s face went pale. She hadn’t expected me to have a camera. “As you can see, I didn’t touch her at all. So I don’t believe an apology is necessary, is it?” I turned to Celine. “But I should probably remind you, sister, to be more careful when you walk next time. Try not to trip over your own feet again.” Celine’s expression shifted again. “I… I was just so nervous. I know sister has been very cold to me, and I know she resents me for staying in this family, for no longer being the only daughter.” “And I know she’s upset that I’m so close with Caleb and the boys, so whenever I see her, I get scared. I’m so afraid of making her angry that I just panicked and fell. Sob…” She buried her face in my mother’s shoulder, crying. “Mom, I’m so scared that sister blames me, that she thinks I’ve stolen everything that was supposed to be hers. That’s why she’s so cold to me…” My mother immediately began patting her back comfortingly. “Don’t think such things. You are our other daughter. How could you have stolen anything from Rory? My love for both of you is the same.” “You silly girl, always overthinking.” Alex shook his head in exasperation, then looked at me. “But Rory, I hope you truly don’t hold these things against Celine. We all love you just the same. You have been far too cold to her.” “Rory, Celine is a very good girl. You can’t be so willful,” my father added, his tone weary, as if everything was always my fault. I was already used to this from my dream—no matter what, as soon as Celine opened her mouth, all blame shifted to me, even moments after I had just been proven innocent. The anger and resentment I once felt had long since vanished. I smiled at them. “Why would Celine think that? I don’t feel like anything has been stolen from me. Unless… does Celine think she’s stolen something from me? I’m just a girl who’s woken up from a three-year coma. I’m still getting reacquainted with everything. That’s why my personality is like this. I’m the same with everyone.” Celine froze, her eyes darting around before she started crying again. “I… I’m just afraid sister doesn’t like me. I know I’m not a real Rhodes, I can’t compare to her…” And so, another ridiculous drama concluded with the Rhodes family comforting the heartbroken Celine. 6 My uncle’s family came to visit. He asked my parents if they were planning a recovery party for me, now that I was out of the woods. It seemed the thought had only just occurred to them, and they quickly agreed it was a great idea. On the morning of the party, Celine appeared at the breakfast table dressed in plain, simple clothes. My parents and brother were shocked and immediately rushed to her side. “Celine, what’s wrong? Why are you dressed like this?” my mother asked anxiously. Celine bit her lip and glanced at me, who was calmly eating breakfast. “Today is sister’s big day. She’s the star of the party. I don’t want to steal her spotlight, so I thought I’d dress simply.” “You foolish child,” my mother said, hugging her tenderly. “Even though today is a party for your sister, it’s a celebration for our whole family. You should look just as beautiful as she does.” “That’s right, Celine. Go change into a pretty dress. We want everyone to see the two beautiful Rhodes sisters,” Alex said with a smile. Celine continued to bite her lip and look at me. “But I’m afraid sister will mind… I don’t want to upset her and cause disharmony in the family…” Alex frowned at me. “Rory, Celine is your sister. You shouldn’t be bothered by things like this. Between sisters, there’s no such thing as stealing the spotlight.” “Exactly, Rory. As the older sister, you can’t think that way. Two sisters living in harmony is what people admire,” my father added disapprovingly. I took a sip of milk and looked at them. “Excuse me, but have I said that I mind anything?” They all froze. “Sister, I really don’t want to steal your spotlight. Please don’t be angry…” Celine said anxiously. Alex’s expression turned sour again as he looked at me. I smiled. “Sister, I hope you’re not overthinking things. I just woke up from a three-year coma, my brain isn’t fully functional yet. I really don’t have the energy to mind anything at all.” Celine paused, feeling as though her efforts were being effortlessly deflected. “As long as Rory doesn’t mind, that’s all that matters. Come on, Celine, let’s go upstairs with Mom and pick out a beautiful dress and some jewelry to match.” My mother gently led her pitiable daughter away. At the hotel ballroom, I looked at myself in the dressing room mirror. My body was thin and pale from the coma, but thankfully, I had almost reached my full height of 5’3” before the accident, so it hadn’t stunted my growth too much. I opened the door and walked out, only to see Celine with Caleb, Julian, and Leo in a small side lounge. “I really didn’t want to wear this dress. I think sister is a little upset, but Mom, Dad, and Alex all insisted…” Celine was saying. “Why would Rory be upset?” “Celine, you can’t always be the one to give in to your sister, you know?” “You should wear what you want to wear. You can’t let others dictate your choices.” They were all cooing over her. “It’s okay. Sister was in a coma for three years because she was saving you all. She’s been a little resentful of me since she woke up, probably because she thinks you’re all too nice to me.” “So I just want to use this opportunity to show her that I won’t compete with her for anything. I will only be grateful to her and serve her.” “Today, my sister will be the most radiant and beautiful one here. I will happily be her green leaf, just a part of the background…” Celine’s voice was so pitiful it could melt stone. “Celine! Don’t be ridiculous. We’re good to you because you deserve it. Rory was in a coma for three years, her mentality is probably still stuck in the past. She was always willful. You must have had a hard time at home.” “It’s true Rory saved us, but she demanded money the day she woke up, as if she was afraid we wouldn’t be grateful. So you don’t have to accommodate her for our sake.” “Even though today is your sister’s party and the focus is on her, you are always our focus, Celine.” I heard their words, let out a soft, contemptuous laugh, and walked away.

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The husband I’d buried seven years ago was standing in my living room. And he hadn’t come alone. He’d brought a woman with him, and he expected me to step aside, to simply hand over my life as his wife. “Jade almost lost her eyesight saving me,” he said, his voice laced with an infuriating mix of arrogance and impatience. “I’ve already promised to marry her. If you sign the divorce papers without a fuss, I’ll… let you keep living here.” I let the silence hang in the air for a beat before I spoke, my voice a calm, level thing. “Actually, I’m already married to someone else.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Don’t be stubborn, Nora. Everyone knows you’re head-over-heels in love with me.” 1 But I wasn’t the Nora from seven years ago. I was no longer that girl who had worshipped the ground he walked on, the girl who had debased herself for even a scrap of his affection. “I have no reason to lie to you. I’m married,” I repeated. Tony shot me a look of pure contempt, a sneer twisting his lips. “Nora, cut the act. I’m not here to ask for your permission. I’m telling you. Whether you like it or not, I’m marrying Jade.” The woman, Jade, tugged at his arm, her voice dripping with a cloying, false innocence. “Tony, honey, please don’t fight with… her. It’s my fault, I’m just bad luck. You should just send me back.” She made a show of turning to leave, but her hand remained firmly clamped on his arm. Her eyes, when they met mine, held a flash of triumphant possession. Just as she’d intended, Tony’s expression softened instantly. “Jade, don’t say that. You promised we’d be together forever.” He then shot a confident look back at me. “Don’t worry. Nora is crazy about me. She does whatever I say. We’ll get married, no problem.” Seven years, and his shamelessness had only grown more profound. Before I could even respond, he glared at me, his voice low and threatening. “You’ve enjoyed the title of Mrs. Ashworth for seven years. It’s time to let Jade have her turn. She’s suffered too much, and I won’t let you bully her.” A bitter, mocking smile touched my lips. “I haven’t done a single thing. Don’t you dare try to pin your drama on me.” Tony’s face darkened at my words. He studied me, his expression turning cold. “You think you’re so important? If it weren’t for the fact that you waited seven years for me, I would’ve kicked you out of this house without a second thought instead of wasting my breath on you.” Kick me out? He wouldn’t get the chance. And what on earth made him think I’d waited for him for seven years? The day he abandoned me at the altar was the day I gave up on him entirely. Seven years ago, I was sitting on my bed in a cloud of white tulle and silk, waiting for Tony to pick me up for our wedding. He never came. He ran. The car he was supposed to be in went off a cliff on the way. Only the driver survived. For seven long years, everyone thought he was dead. I picked out his gravesite myself. Marrying into the Ashworth family was a future my father had fought tooth and nail to secure for me. Tony could spit on the honor of my family, the Logans, but I could not. Besides, he wasn’t the only man in the Ashworth dynasty. In these past seven years, I’ve been a wife and a mother. If he hadn’t reappeared like a ghost, I would have forgotten he ever existed. So, seeing him now, my heart was a placid lake, without a single ripple of emotion. “Tony, let me be perfectly clear one more time. You and I are not husband and wife,” I stated, enunciating each word. “Legally, you are a deceased person. Who you choose to marry is none of my concern.” 2 Tony let out a dismissive snort. “Took you long enough to get the picture. If you hadn’t been so obsessed with marrying me back then, I never would have had to run off to another country and hide out for seven years.” So that was it. The driver had managed to jump from the car, and I’d always wondered how Tony, in the same vehicle, couldn’t have. It wasn’t a tragic accident. It was a disappearing act. He hadn’t changed one bit—still selfish, arrogant, and utterly devoid of responsibility. When the news of his “death” had arrived, his mother had fainted on the spot, falling into a sickness so deep she nearly followed him to the grave. His cruel words were overheard by the family butler, Mr. Harrison, who had just rushed in. “Young Master Tony, you mustn’t say such things.” He turned to Tony, his face pale. “She is now the wife of the President of Ashworth Corporation.” “The President’s wife?” Beside him, Jade’s eyes darted back and forth. “Tony, darling,” she asked, feigning innocence, “didn’t you say your grandfather would only ever pass the presidency to you?” Tony froze for a second, then stared at me blankly. “My father only has one son. Who else is qualified to inherit the company besides me?” I watched him, my expression unmoving. Did he leave his brain overseas? Did he have any idea how foolish he sounded? Mr. Harrison was sweating, wiping his brow with a trembling hand. “Young Master, what are you saying? The Madam is married to the Third Master. The Third Master is the President now. Don’t you remember? Your uncle, Sebastian.” After Tony had left me stranded, I had stood on the street in a daze, surrounded by the pointing fingers and pitying stares of strangers. That’s when Sebastian Ashworth had appeared. He said he would marry me. At that moment, I was lost, helpless. Everyone knew it was my wedding day, and my groom had died on the way to the church. Jinx. Black widow. Bad luck. Those words were nails pinning me to a cross of public shame. And then, a man offered to marry me, to prove to the world I was none of those things. He would save my family from disgrace and pull me out of the mire. Why wouldn’t I have said yes? Sebastian had never planned on attending his nephew’s wedding; he had only returned to the country at the behest of the old patriarch. Yet, fate had twisted our paths together. Tony looked at me with a mocking laugh. “Everyone in New York knows my uncle Sebastian is practically allergic to women. All he cares about is business. He wouldn’t give a desperate fangirl like Nora the time of day.” Sebastian was a legend in the business world, a true prodigy who had personally built half of the Ashworth empire. Within the family, he was treated with the reverence of a king. To this day, I still didn’t fully understand why he’d chosen me. There were so many women more beautiful and gentle than I was. The butler was still trying to reason with him. “Young Master, it’s the truth. You can check the news online, or ask anyone in the family if you don’t believe me.” Tony just scoffed. He pointed to a random gardener, then to a maid. They both gave him the same answer. His composure finally cracked. His face hardened as he glared at me. “Well, well, Nora. You work fast, don’t you? I’m gone a few years, and you’ve already got the entire household wrapped around your little finger, all of them lying for you.” I remained calm, refusing to get drawn into his delusions. My marriage to Sebastian was a fact, set in stone. Whether Tony believed it or not was irrelevant. He’d been spoiled rotten his entire life. Fearing he’d cause more trouble, the butler quickly had someone call Sebastian’s office. “Get the Third Master’s secretary on the phone, now! Tell him he needs to come home.” Sebastian was supposed to be in a major meeting about an aerospace project. The family patriarch and Tony’s mother were also out. Otherwise, Tony never would have had the chance to act so outrageously toward me. In the middle of the standoff, my son Leo suddenly ran into the room. “Mommy, why didn’t you come back to play with me?” 3 The moment Tony saw Leo, his face twisted into a mask of pure fury. It was undeniable. Leo was a miniature, masculine version of me. Tony’s gaze shot back and forth between me and the child. Finally, he raised a trembling hand and pointed at me. “You… you dared to betray me? You even have a… a bastard.” “Who is he?” he snarled. “Tell me whose bastard this is!” Leo, having inherited Sebastian’s temperament, didn’t quite grasp the meaning of the word, but he knew it wasn’t a compliment. He propped a hand on his hip, looking like a tiny, serious adult. “Who are you calling a bastard? My daddy says people with dirty mouths need a good spanking.” Leo was six. Everyone in the family knew him, but he’d never met Tony. “You little bastard, you dare talk back to me?” Tony spat. That was it. I saw red. The precious child I had carried for nine months, and this man dared to call him that, over and over. “Tony, you watch your damn mouth,” I said, my voice low and dangerous, “or you’ll regret it.” Jade, however, looked positively gleeful. “This child looks like he’s in elementary school, doesn’t he? Don’t tell me you were pregnant before you and Tony were even supposed to get married?” The accusation was meant to be a dagger to the heart. Tony’s eyes, when they locked on mine, were murderous. There is nothing a man despises more than his wife’s infidelity. Especially from a woman who had once claimed to love him and only him. “He’s six,” I said calmly. “Nora, you tramp!” he exploded. “I’m gone for seven years, and you not only find another man but have his child? Have you no shame?” Only seven years? We had only known each other for a few years before he took off for seven. And he was the one who abandoned me. Mr. Harrison rushed to explain. “Young Master, that is the Third Master’s son!” Tony’s anger boiled over. “You shut up! You traitor! Where are my parents? Who let her get away with this? Cheating on me and acting like she’s the one who’s been wronged!” “The entire Ashworth family, from top to bottom, knows about this,” the butler pleaded. At the time, Tony’s parents, wracked with guilt over his disappearance, hadn’t objected to Sebastian marrying me. This sent Tony into a full-blown rage. His eyes, like daggers, scanned the room. “Who’s the bastard’s father? Who dared to cuckold an Ashworth? Does he have a death wish?” No matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t find a single plausible suspect among the staff. I let out a cold, ironic laugh. Jade put on a concerned facade. “Nora, you should just confess. If you push Tony too far, even I won’t be able to help you.” I shot her a withering look. “We’re all vipers in this pit. Drop the act.” Before I could react, the world tilted. A sharp sting exploded across my cheek. Tony had slapped me. “Shut your mouth,” he hissed. “You have no right to talk to Jade like that, you shameless adulterer.” I hadn’t seen it coming. My cheek instantly began to throb and swell. Seeing me hit, Leo charged at Tony like a little bull. “You hit my mommy! I’ll kill you!” “Leo!” 4 Tony snatched him up by the collar of his shirt, lifting him off the ground. My heart hammered against my ribs. “Tony, put him down! Put the child down!” The other servants rushed forward. “Young Master, please, put the boy down!” “The Third Master will not forgive this!” Everyone in the house knew Leo was the apple of Sebastian’s eye, his absolute treasure. But Tony just sneered. “Get lost if you don’t want to get fired. Today, I’m going to teach this pair a lesson they won’t forget.” My stomach clenched. “Tony, what are you doing?” His face was a mask of ice, his aura suddenly frigid and terrifying. “According to the law, you committed adultery during our marriage and even had a child. I can demand you leave with nothing and compensate me for my emotional damages.” But we were never married. My hands began to shake with rage. “Tony, we were never married! How could I have cheated?” “Put my son down!” Leo’s little legs dangled and kicked in the air, but he wasn’t crying. He wasn’t afraid. The surrounding staff, intimidated by Tony’s threats, hesitated, only offering weak, useless pleas. Tony ignored them all. He shot me a dark, meaningful glance. “After I’m done with this bastard, I’ll deal with you personally.” With that, he started walking toward the door, still holding Leo. The staff exchanged helpless looks, but no one dared to intervene. Finally, Mr. Harrison, the butler, threw himself in Tony’s path. Tony’s face went black. “What? You dare to block me?” The butler, sweating profusely, bowed his head respectfully. “Young Master, let’s talk this through. Please, don’t be rash. Put the young master down.” Seizing the opportunity, I lunged for my son, but Jade grabbed me, holding me back. She was smiling, a look of pure triumph on her face. “Nora, what are you doing? Please don’t do anything foolish.” I spun around and slapped her so hard the sound echoed in the hall. “If anything happens to my son, I will make you both regret the day you were born.” Jade stumbled back dramatically, crashing into a nearby vase and cutting her head. The sight of her blood sent Tony over the edge. He directed all his fury at Leo. “You dare touch Jade? I’ll beat this little bastard to death!” He lifted Leo higher, poised to slam him onto the marble floor. For a split second, my heart stopped beating. I flew forward on pure instinct. “Leo!” Seeing his father’s madness, Leo, finally overwhelmed, burst into tears. “Get away from me!” Tony roared at me. “I’ll deal with you later!” I wrapped my arms around my son, clinging to him for dear life, refusing to let go no matter how hard Tony tried to pull me away. Finally, his patience snapped. He drew back his foot and kicked me squarely in the chest. The air rushed out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. Mr. Harrison and the others finally rushed in, trying to pull him off, but he threw them aside. “Young Master, stop! That’s your uncle’s wife!” one of them cried, clinging to his leg. Even with a man wrapped around his leg, Tony was trying to kick me again. And then, a voice from the doorway—cool, indifferent, and dripping with ice. “What, exactly, is going on here?” “You will all give me a reasonable explanation. Now.”

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My son was hailed as a guitar prodigy. But on the day of the National Youth Virtuoso Competition, despite being the fan favorite with the highest online votes, he didn’t win the grand prize. In a daze, he missed a step leaving the stage and plummeted to the floor below. I scrambled to help him, but my eyes caught a different scene: my wife, Evelyn, holding another boy aloft, a championship trophy in his hands. He was the son of her old flame. The producers and directors were laughing nearby. “It pays to be Evelyn Croft’s son, doesn’t it? A championship trophy, just like that.” “Tell me about it. That kid, Chris, was incredible, but what can you do? No powerful mother, no connections.” My heart shattered. I never imagined Evelyn would rig the competition against her own flesh and blood for the sake of another man’s child. But my son, with blood streaming down his face, climbed to his feet. He grabbed my hand, his small voice firm. “Dad,” he said, “I don’t want this mom anymore.” I squeezed his hand back, my own resolve hardening like steel. “Okay. If you don’t want her, then neither do I.” 1 Evelyn came home late. I had already coaxed our son, Chris, to sleep. She wasn’t surprised to see me sitting in the living room. She walked over, cool as ever, and tossed a divorce agreement onto the coffee table. “You weren’t happy with the last offer. I’ve raised your share to thirty percent of the assets. That should be enough, shouldn’t it, Liam?” she said, her voice laced with condescension. “Don’t be greedy.” This time, I didn’t beg her to stay. I calmly picked up the papers and read through them. Just as I expected, it was the same old story: the company assets remained untouched, and she was offering me a mere thirty percent of the remaining real estate and cash flow. But on what grounds? I was the one who built that company from the ground up. We kept our marriage a secret purely to stroke her ego and satisfy her vanity. I agreed to stay in the background, but not so she could hand everything over to her old flame and his son. I threw the agreement back on the table and looked up, meeting her smug, ‘I knew it’ expression. I just watched her for a moment, then asked the question that had been burning in my heart. “So, rigging the competition to steal Chris’s championship today… that was also to force me into this divorce?” Evelyn flinched, surprised by my calmness. She recovered quickly, her usual arrogance returning like a shield. “I rigged it? What about you? Chris is naturally talented, but you pushed him into masterclasses, paraded him all over social media. If it weren’t for your marketing, do you think a boy his age would have so many fans? Is that fair to Theo? All I did was level the playing field!” She spat the words out, a torrent of self-righteous justification. “Theo worked so hard for this! He deserved it! It’s about time your son learned that talent isn’t something to be proud of!” Her brazen defense was so absurd I almost laughed. Chris had prepared for this competition for three solid years. In those years, just mastering the difficult six-string tremolo technique had cost him countless hours of pain and frustration. He practiced even when he was sick, never daring to slack off for a single day. And his own mother… she only saw the “hard work” of another child. In her eyes, her own son’s prodigious talent had become a flaw. Love and its absence—the difference was blindingly clear. Seeing my silence, Evelyn scoffed and sat down on the sofa, pulling off her silk scarf. “Pour me some water.” I didn’t move. As I looked down, her phone screen lit up. A text from her lover, Charlie: Did he agree? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Evelyn shot me a warning glare, snatching up her phone and typing furiously. After sending her reply, she grabbed her coat, ready to leave again. I stepped in her way, frowning. “Chris fell off the stage today. He hurt his head. As his mother, you’re not going to stay with him? Where are you going?” “Chris fell? What is wrong with you? You do nothing all day, and you can’t even watch a child properly? What are you good for, Liam?” My attempt to keep her here only earned me a tirade of blame. After she was done, she shot me an impatient look, clearly having no intention of staying. “I have something urgent to do. You take care of Chris.” Her “urgent business” was, of course, spending time with Charlie and his son. As she walked to the door to change her shoes, not even glancing toward Chris’s room, my fists clenched. “Evelyn, do you just enjoy being a stepmother that much?” She turned, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Watch your mouth, Liam. Theo is a sweet, innocent child. He deserves my love!” So, Chris and I were the ones who didn’t? I watched her slam the door without a second thought, a cold smile spreading across my face. Fine, Evelyn. If that’s how you want it, then you no longer deserve my mercy. That night, I didn’t sleep in the master bedroom. I squeezed into Chris’s small bed with him. He listened to my stories, told me his secrets, and for the first time, he didn’t mention Evelyn’s name once. I knew that, just like me years ago, he had finally given up on her. Truthfully, I had wanted to leave her ever since Charlie returned to the country, when she abandoned me with a raging fever to go pick him up from the airport. But Chris didn’t want us to divorce. He didn’t want to be the child of a broken home; he didn’t want to lose his mother. I stayed only to protect him. But I never imagined Evelyn’s favoritism for Charlie and his son would run so deep that she would be willing to hurt her own child. I gently stroked Chris’s face, a profound sense of guilt washing over me. The next day, a heavy rainstorm swept across the city. The unusual silence at the breakfast table made Evelyn uncomfortable. She cleared her throat and stroked Chris’s head. “Chris, how about Mommy drives you to school today?” I paused, my fingers hovering over the ride-share app on my phone. Chris didn’t light up as Evelyn expected. He just glanced at the pouring rain outside and gave a quiet nod. His indifference made Evelyn frown. She stood up abruptly and dragged me into the kitchen. “Liam, did you say something bad about me to our son?” “No.” I shook her hand off, annoyed. She sneered. “If you didn’t, why is he acting like this? He used to love talking to me.” A low chuckle escaped me. Yes, Chris used to love talking to her. Every morning at breakfast, he would chatter away, sharing everything he’d seen and learned. And how did Evelyn respond? Her patience never lasted more than ten minutes before she would put on a stern face and lecture him. “Chris, no talking while eating. We have rules at the table.” Every time he heard that, Chris would fall silent, his face a mask of disappointment. Evelyn never understood that his endless chatter was the desperate plea of a son craving his mother’s affection. Chris was not an unruly child; his mother was just too busy. She left early and came home late, always caught up in business dinners or overtime at the office. The only time Chris had with her was breakfast. She never realized that in this family, she was the missing piece. My quiet laughter grated on her. She grabbed me, her voice sharp with rebuke. “What are you laughing at? With your passive-aggressive attitude all day, no wonder you’re a bad influence on him.” I turned away and met Chris’s gaze from the dining room. The fire in my chest instantly died down. “Nothing. I’m just happy for you. Chris listened to you. He remembered the rules of the table.” “Is that so?” She didn’t seem pleased by my answer. I ignored her suspicion and went back to the table, asking Chris in a low voice, “Are you sure you want Mom to take you?” He nodded his little head. “Yes. Every time it rains, Daddy gets his clothes and shoes all wet trying to protect me. I feel bad.” I smiled and ruffled his hair, still worried about leaving him in Evelyn’s care. “But the cut on your head…” Before we could decide, Evelyn’s phone rang. After a two-minute call, she strode back over. “Chris, Daddy will take you today after all. Mommy has something to take care of.” Without waiting for a reply, she rushed out the door. I looked at Chris with concern, but he wasn’t sad or disappointed. He just shrugged and gave me a wry look. “Looks like my old man has to do the hard work again!” His humor made me laugh. I pulled him into a hug. “This old man is more than happy to. You’re his favorite person in the world.” After dropping Chris off at school, I got back into the taxi. Just as we were about to pull away, Evelyn’s car pulled up beside us. She got out, opened her umbrella, and carefully walked around to the back door, helping Theo out of the car. Charlie followed, taking the umbrella from her and draping his arm casually around her shoulders. I frowned slightly. When had Theo transferred to this school? Evelyn carried Theo all the way to the school gate before putting him down. He tugged on her sleeve, and she obediently knelt. He leaned in and planted a kiss on her cheek. Evelyn’s smile widened, and she hugged him, kissing him back. What a picture-perfect, happy family of three. Her own son had never once enjoyed such treatment. I gave a sarcastic smile and urged the driver to go. But Evelyn and Charlie’s good mood didn’t last. Before the day was out, the story of the rigged competition exploded online. In less than 24 hours, headlines flooded social media. #YouthVirtuosoCompetitionGrandPrizeFixed? #BigCompetitionBigProductionBigScam? #FanFavoriteGuitarProdigyRobbedByJudgesOnLiveTV #FourPassesTheJudgesPet I clicked on one of the trending topics. The comments were a firestorm of outrage against the show and the judges. ARE YOU BLIND? The kid with the six-string tremolo was clearly on another level. His mastery of the instrument was insane. And the judges gave him a 3? If you don’t need your eyes, donate them to someone who does. This is a complete setup. The other kid, Theo, was fine on the violin, but so by-the-book. The piece he chose wasn’t even difficult. The third-place winner was more impressive. How did he beat Chris for first? He’s only EIGHT. At an age when most kids can’t even get a clean strum, he’s mastering tremolos. I’m coming for you, director. Give him justice. Guys, stop arguing. A master detective online already dug it up. The kid named Theo’s ‘mom’ is the personal assistant to the show’s biggest investor. The championship was just a whisper away. Chris’s online votes were miles ahead of everyone else in the semi-finals. The show claimed to be fair and transparent, so why did they suddenly hide the online voting results for the finale? Before I could scroll further, Evelyn called. “Liam, is this your doing? All this chaos online?” she seethed. “You’ve become so venomous. Just because you know your way around the internet, you’re targeting a child?” “I’m warning you, fix this. Get all of this off the internet right now, or you will face the consequences!” She unleashed her tirade and hung up without giving me a chance to say a word. I stared at my phone and let out a bitter laugh. While Chris’s fans had certainly fanned the flames, neither of us had the power to make this a national incident. Ultimately, this was a mess of Evelyn’s own making. She wanted to rig the championship, but she’d spent the entire season boasting about fairness and transparency, making all the early votes public. When Chris’s numbers got too high for even paid bots to catch up, she simply canceled the public vote for the finale and had the host read out some random numbers. Her scheme was sloppy, full of holes. And today’s internet users are sharp. No one was going to let her get away with it. I had no ability to quell this storm. And even if I did, why should I help the son of her lover? I’m no saint. But I never anticipated how far Evelyn would go to protect Theo. She had the show’s official account release a statement. The production team owes everyone an apology. Out of a desire to protect the children involved, we previously withheld certain information. Considering the current online harassment directed at young Theo, and after much deliberation, we have decided to reveal the truth. In fact, Chris cheated on the day of the competition. The backing track he provided was a full performance, and the guitar in his hands was a lightweight prop, which is how he was able to so easily perform the six-string tremolo with such fluency and rich tone. After this was discovered, Chris’s father, Mr. Liam, begged the production team for mercy. Considering the boy is young and motherless, we did not want to ruin his future, which is why we arranged the results as we did. This was a failure of judgment on our part, and for that, we bow in apology to all our viewers. We will accept the criticism. We only ask that the public be kind to the children. The moment the statement was released, it was met with an even greater torrent of fury and derision. They said, No wonder a kid so young could pull off a six-string tremolo. It was a prop and fake playing. They said, I knew it. Even professional guitarists struggle with that technique. How could an eight-year-old do it? It was too good to be true. They said, So being motherless is an excuse to cheat? This father is clearly just playing the sympathy card. A kid like that deserves to be taught a lesson. … My fingers tightened around my phone, my whole body trembling with rage. Reading those comments, I knew, with absolute certainty, that they were from paid trolls hired by Evelyn, all meant to steer the narrative. Did she have any idea what this would do to Chris? She was trying to destroy his future. My eyes burning, I frantically dialed her number. The moment she picked up, her cold laughter came through the line. “Liam, you’re scared now, aren’t you? Well, I’m telling you, it’s too late. Begging won’t help. You did this to Theo first.” I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I roared into the phone. “Evelyn, Chris is your son! Your own flesh and blood! Are you trying to destroy him?” She scoffed. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s a hobby. Even if Chris does nothing with his life, it’s not like I can’t afford to feed and clothe him. But Theo is different. He doesn’t have a mother. That’s tragic enough.” “Anyway, I’m busy. I don’t have time for this. I suggest you behave yourself and stop pulling these little stunts.” This time, Evelyn had crossed my final line. I stared at the disconnected call, then walked into the bedroom. From the safe, I took out our marriage certificate, property deeds—every document that proved my relationship with Evelyn. I photographed them all. Evelyn, if I’m going down, I’m taking you with me. I was just about to upload the photos, to write the post exposing our relationship and outing Charlie as a homewrecker, when a call came from Chris’s teacher. “Hello, Chris’s dad? Something’s happened to Chris at school. Can you please come right away?” Her urgent voice made my heart pound in my chest. I scrambled downstairs, calling a car on my phone. In my haste, I missed a step and tumbled down the stairs. Ignoring the pain, I picked myself up and kept running. As I reached the office door, I heard Chris’s language arts teacher. “Principal, we can put off talking to the parents for a moment. The priority is to get the child to a hospital.” What happened? Who’s hurt? I was about to push the door open when Charlie’s sharp voice cut through. “Ma’am, I know you’re worried about the child’s injury. But if you take him without a parent present, and something happens on the way, can you bear that responsibility?” “I’ve already told you, his mother is on her way. I’ll pay whatever compensation they ask for. But if you take him now and his injuries get worse, I’m not going to be the one footing the bill for your mistake.” “You—” The teacher was speechless with anger. I listened, frowning, my gut telling me Theo and Chris had gotten into another fight. But nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when I opened the door. Chris was slumped in his teacher’s arms, his face and lips ashen white. His hands were covered in blood, which dripped steadily onto the floor. He was shivering, as if chilled to the bone. “Chris! How did you get hurt so badly?” I rushed to his side, my hands hovering, afraid to touch him and cause more pain. When Chris saw me, his eyes instantly filled with tears. The dam of his composure finally broke, and he let out a heart-wrenching sob. “Daddy, it hurts so much.” His teacher visibly relaxed and handed him over to me. “Chris’s dad, hurry, take him to the hospital. He’s been like this for almost an hour.” I took my son from her arms, mumbled a “thank you,” and turned to leave. But Charlie blocked my path. “Liam, I’m so sorry. Theo was just trying to play a joke on Chris, he never thought it would go this far. But don’t worry, we’ll compensate Chris for everything. Theo’s mother is on her way. She’s got money. You can ask for whatever you want.” I didn’t have the energy to figure out who the “mother” he was talking about was. All I wanted was to get Chris to a hospital. I shoved him aside without a second thought. “Get out of my way!” Charlie stumbled back, hitting his back against a desk with a pained grunt. Seeing this, Theo snatched a ruler from a teacher’s desk and swung it down hard on Chris’s injured hand. “Bastard! You hit my dad, I’ll kill your son!” Chris screamed, a raw cry of agony. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

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1 When I gave up my spot as the team’s main carry for her old flame, my girlfriend, Adeline, saw how compliant I was. My reward? She moved our wedding date forward. But there, at the altar, her old flame held a dagger to his own skin, his eyes wild with jealousy. “Addie, I’m begging you, don’t marry him!” My fiancée, normally so cool and composed, completely lost her composure. She turned to me, her voice trembling as she pleaded with me to save Adam’s life. Every guest in the hall was staring, savoring my humiliation. But I didn’t raise my voice, didn’t cause a scene. I simply ceded my place as the groom. Seeing me so accommodating, just like always, her eyes welled up. “I promise, this is the last time I’ll put you through this,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “As soon as the wedding is over, we’ll go get our marriage license.” She’d forgotten. This was the 96th time she had hurt me. And I had no intention of continuing this life with her. I was just waiting for the last three promises to be fulfilled. Once the debt for her saving my grandmother’s life was paid, I would walk away and never look back. “He just stepped down, just like that. Pathetic.” “What else could he do? He was always just Adam’s stand-in. Now things are just going back to the way they should be.” “Look at them. They’re the ones who are truly meant for each other.” I followed their gaze to the stage. Adeline and Adam stood side-by-side, their fingers intertwined. A perfect couple, a match made in heaven. But the ceremony didn’t begin. Instead, staff members began to walk onto the stage, replacing the placards and signs. They even handed out new invitations to every guest. I received one, too. I opened it. The bride’s name was still Adeline. But the groom’s name had been changed to Adam. Adeline saw it all. She knew Adam’s little suicide attempt was just a dramatic play for attention, yet she still shot him a look of fond exasperation. “Adam, you’re being so childish. Don’t you ever do that again. What if you’d actually gotten hurt?” Her world revolved around whether or not he might get hurt. She’d completely forgotten that this wedding, this day, was supposed to be my reward for sacrificing my entire career. She had no idea that marrying her was the one wish I wrote down every single year on my birthday, a wish sealed in a glass bottle, a wish I never dared to show her. Only when every trace of me had been scrubbed from the venue did the ceremony finally begin. But when it came time to exchange the rings, Adam hesitated. After Adeline prompted him several times, he finally spoke, his voice meek and hesitant. “I’ve been sick for so many years… I don’t have many friends left. I was hoping… I was hoping Captain Liam could be my best man. But I was afraid to ask, afraid it would be rude.” Every eye in the room turned to me. I looked at Adeline. My wedding had been stolen from me. I was already the butt of every joke, the subject of every gossiping whisper. Would she really have the heart to make me stand on that stage and watch her marry another man? Seeing the once-bright young man she’d loved now so timid and careful, Adeline’s eyes softened. She looked at me, her gaze filled with a silent plea. “Liam… you already gave up the wedding. Being the best man… you wouldn’t refuse that, would you?” I’d almost forgotten. Adam had faked his own death and disappeared at the peak of their love affair. Adeline had only chosen me, his look-alike, because she could never forget him. And now, her long-lost love had returned. How could I have been so foolish as to imagine she might still hold a shred of affection for me? I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. “Does this count as one of the things I do for you?” I asked. Adeline’s brow furrowed in annoyance, as if she were trying to recall something important but couldn’t quite grasp it. She was about to ask, but seeing Adam looking on the verge of tears, she gave up. “Yes,” she said. “It counts.” I nodded. “Fine. I’ll do it.” A long time ago, my grandmother, the only family I had left, was dying. Adeline had descended like an angel, hiring the world’s top doctors, arranging the most expensive private room. Because of her, my grandmother got one more year of life, a year she lived happily before passing away in peace. On the day she died, I asked Adeline how I could ever repay such a debt. Her gaze had lingered on my face. “Just stay by my side. That’s enough.” I knew then she was looking through me, at someone else. “There has to be a time limit, Ms. Croft.” “Call me Adeline,” she’d corrected, pushing down the sorrow in her eyes. “A time limit? Then let’s say… you do ninety-nine things for me, no questions asked. Or, after I’ve hurt you ninety-nine times. Then the debt will be paid.” She’d forgotten all of that. But it didn’t matter anymore. This was number 97. Only two more to go, and she and I would be even. I took a deep breath and started walking toward the stage. As I passed their wedding cake, a towering, multi-layered confection, I saw Adam flash a strange, cruel smile. I was still wondering what it meant when a powerful force shoved me from behind. My body pitched forward, out of control. I crashed into the cake trolley, sending it toppling over. The magnificent cake was flattened beneath me, and my knee slammed hard against the metal frame. A wave of searing pain shot through my leg. The guests gasped in unison. On the stage, Adam let out a theatrical sigh. “Captain, if you didn’t want to be the best man, you could have just said so. There was no need to fake a fall and ruin the cake I spent so much time planning.” The guests behind me had seen the whole thing, but they joined in the mockery anyway. “Captain Liam, stick to what you know. Don’t embarrass yourself with such a clumsy performance.” Adeline had started to move toward me, worried I was hurt, but hearing that, her expression hardened with disappointment. “Your clothes are ruined. Go change.” Adam looped his arm through hers. “It’s fine, Addie. I don’t mind little details like this. Let’s not delay the ceremony.” Adeline seemed about to say more, but seeing that I was already back on my feet and on the stage, she fell silent. I limped toward the center of the altar. Adeline noticed, a flicker of concern in her eyes. “What happened to your leg?” Beside her, Adam shrugged. “Poor form, Captain. If you wanted to fake an injury, you should have gone for your championship-winning hand. That would have gotten more of Addie’s sympathy.” He leaned in closer. “Try that next time.” A flash of anger crossed Adeline’s face. She wanted to reprimand him, but with so many people watching, she just lowered her voice to a hiss. “Cut it out with your petty games. Stop embarrassing yourself. We’ll talk about this when we get home.” I smiled, a bitter, hollow thing. The entire hall was filled with sycophants. When I was at the top of my game, they bowed and scraped before me. Now that Adam was the favored one, they were all terrified of him, desperate to distance themselves from me by kicking me while I was down. With them on his side, and with Adeline’s blatant favoritism, anything I said would be useless. Thankfully, Adam behaved for the rest of the ceremony. As the guests began to disperse, I prepared to leave as well. But Adam’s voice stopped me. “Captain, don’t be in such a hurry to leave. You know what happens on the wedding night. We’ll still be needing our best man.” My fists clenched instinctively. I looked at Adeline. She arched an eyebrow and, for once, actually scolded him. “That’s enough, Adam. Stop talking nonsense and go wait in the car.” After he’d gone, she turned to me. “Don’t listen to him. It’s just a get-together with some old friends tonight.” She glanced at my injured leg. “You’re hurt. I won’t take you with me. Go home and get some rest.” “We have a long life ahead of us,” she added, her voice softening slightly. “I’ll take you next time.” She turned and walked away. She had no idea. As soon as the debt was paid, I was leaving. There was no “next time” for us. There was no “us” anymore. 2 She arranged for a driver to take me home. When I rolled up my pant leg, my knee was already a swollen, dark purple bruise. As I was applying ointment, a delivery arrived—gifts from Adeline. One was a limited-edition collaboration watch. The other was the key to a brand-new Porsche. She had sent a note, specifying that the first was compensation for giving up my wedding, and the second was an apology for forcing me to be the best man. I carried them, my face a blank mask, to the collection room. There, I placed them into the glass display cases marked with the numbers 96 and 97. A maid, holding a tray, looked on with envy. “Ms. Croft’s gifts get more and more extravagant. She must truly love you to the bone.” I just smiled and said nothing. She didn’t know that these were not gifts of love. They were reparations. One for every time Adeline had hurt me. I looked at the wall of glass cases. Only two remained empty. I knew the day of my departure was coming soon. I went to my room to pack a few personal documents. I didn’t want to take a single thing she had given me. All I wanted was the one thing my grandmother had left for me. Even though I was the one marrying into her wealthy family, my grandmother had worried that Adeline would feel slighted. Without telling me, she had taken her own heirloom gold bracelet, her most precious possession, and had it melted down and crafted into a pair of earrings and a pair of wedding rings. The earrings and Adeline’s ring were Grandma’s gifts to her. All I wanted to take with me was my ring. A few days ago, Adeline had borrowed it from me for some reason. She must have forgotten to return it and tossed it into her jewelry box. But I searched through every drawer and compartment. The box was overflowing with glittering gems and precious metals, but my small, simple ring was nowhere to be found. Just as I was about to ask a maid, Adeline returned, with Adam in tow. She had brought me dinner. Not leftovers, but a meal prepared just for me, filled with all my favorite dishes. She was always so meticulous about these small things, gestures that had once fooled me into thinking she might actually love me. I ignored the food. “Where’s my ring?” Adam spoke first, holding up his hand to show me a heavy gold signet ring. “Captain, you mean the wedding ring, right? I saw how Addie never takes her gold ring off, so I got curious and borrowed the other one from her to play with.” He smiled, a disarmingly charming expression. “I’ve already had them both melted down to make this signet ring. I’m so sorry, I acted on my own and didn’t tell you. How much was it? I’ll pay you for it.” A sharp pain lanced through my chest. “Adeline,” I choked out, “that was our wedding ring!” Adeline paused. She picked up her chopsticks, selected a piece of my favorite dish, and held it to my lips. “Try this. It’s just a formality, Liam. If you want a new ring, I’ll buy you any one you want.” She had forgotten. It was the last piece of my grandmother I had left. It was irreplaceable. I turned my head away from the food. “No, thank you,” I said, my voice cold. “I don’t need one.” Adam’s face crumpled, his voice thick with emotion as he slipped the signet ring off his finger. “Captain, it’s all my fault. I had a sudden episode… I just had to have the rings melted down. Please, don’t blame Addie.” He looked ready to weep. “If I’ve damaged your relationship, I… I might as well just die.” But Adeline wasn’t short on money. Adam knew how important that ring was to me. He had done this on purpose. And yet, Adeline was completely blind to his manipulations. She had been about to apologize to me, but the sight of Adam’s emotional breakdown made her slam her chopsticks down on the table. She rushed to his side, her voice soothing. “It’s just a pair of stupid rings. I was worried that making them into a signet ring for you wasn’t good enough. You have nothing to apologize for.” Adam pointed a trembling finger at my retreating back. “But… what about the Captain?” “Don’t worry,” I heard her say as I walked up the stairs. “I’ll make it up to him.” I closed my bedroom door behind me, shutting out their voices. My parents died when I was young. My grandmother raised me. And now, I couldn’t even protect the last memento she had left me. Perhaps this was her way of telling me, from beyond the grave, that this twisted love affair had to end. I pulled a folded piece of paper from a notebook. It was covered in a grid of numbers. At the end of the list, I wrote down the number 98. I didn’t hear her approach. Adeline had entered the room without a sound. Before I could hide it, she snatched the paper from my hand. She stared at it, her brow furrowing deeply, a profound sense of unease rising within her. “What is this? What are you writing?” 3 I quickly snatched the paper back. “It’s nothing. Just doodling.” My unusually defensive reaction surprised her. Then, a memory seemed to surface. “You’re still thinking about that, aren’t you? That time we tried to win that stuffed animal and failed like twenty times.” She was talking about a day we’d spent at a street fair. She’d taken a sudden liking to a doll at a game booth. The challenge was to write the numbers 1 to 100 without a single mistake. I tried over and over, but I could never manage it. We left empty-handed. Since she had misunderstood, I saw no reason to correct her. I just nodded vaguely. The memory of that rare, happy moment brought a smile to her glacial face. “It was just a doll, Liam. It’s not like I can’t afford to buy one. Don’t take it so seriously. Now, come and see the gift I got for you.” She snapped her fingers. A moment later, several men entered, carrying a massive, solid gold trophy. “Liam,” she said, her voice soft, “may you win another championship next season.” She paused. “I’m sorry about the ring. Think of this trophy as my apology.” Everyone in the room stared at the trophy with wide, envious eyes. My reaction was flat. “Put it in the collection room.” Adeline looked taken aback by my lack of enthusiasm. “Isn’t this what you want? All of this?” She gestured around the opulent room. “This trophy is worth enough to buy a mansion. Why aren’t you happy?” I looked up at her, a wave of disappointment washing over me. So that’s what she thought. That I was only with her for her money. No wonder her gifts had become more and more extravagant. If she had paid even the slightest bit of attention, she would have realized that I had never used, worn, or touched a single thing she had given me. Some people might love a life of gilded luxury. All I ever wanted was to be with the person I loved. Adeline waited, but I gave her no satisfactory answer. Finally, she stomped her foot in frustration and stormed out, taking Adam with her. They didn’t come home all night. All through the night, Adam sent me a relentless stream of photos and videos, flaunting their time together, taunting me. I put my phone on silent and slept soundly. The next morning, Adeline sent me a single, cold message with an address, summoning me. She hadn’t come home, and I, for the first time, hadn’t gone looking for her. She must have been furious. I knew this was a trap, but I also knew it was the last time. After this, I would finally be free. I didn’t hesitate. I called a cab and went. The location she’d chosen was desolate and remote, far from the noise of the city. When I arrived, she was nowhere in sight. I was about to call her when Adam appeared, flanked by a group of men in black suits. “Don’t bother looking,” he said with a smirk. “I’m the one who asked you here.” I raised an eyebrow, a bad feeling creeping over me. “What is this?” “It’s not just the main carry position,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “I want the captain’s title, too.”

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1 I beat my wife, the woman who once loved me more than life itself, and sent her to the hospital. Then I walked into the police station and turned myself in. I did it because I remember my last life. I remember when her old flame, the one that got away, came back to town after his divorce. It started when he lost his mind in a Tiffany & Co., smashing display cases to pieces. It ended with him behind the wheel of a car, a blur of metal and fury, causing a catastrophic multi-car pile-up on the freeway. But it was the Tiffany’s manager and the victims of the crash who came for me. They pointed their fingers, their voices unwavering, and swore it was me. I fought to prove my innocence, but every security camera feed they produced showed my face. My own wife, Katie, insisted it was true, telling everyone my depression had finally pushed me over the edge. They didn’t wait for a trial. The family of a victim cornered me, and a blade in my gut was the final verdict. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. The day before he, Ethan, was set to destroy everything. … This time, I was the one who left Katie, battered and bruised, at the doors of the emergency room. My cold, impatient demeanor, coupled with the constellation of injuries covering her body, screamed a story far more violent than a simple fall. Two officers walked in. “Who called this in?” I immediately held my hands out to them, wrists together. “I did, Officer. I’m here to turn myself in. The woman I assaulted is in the ER right now.” The officer shot me a bewildered look. After a quick confirmation with a nurse, they cuffed me and led me away. The first thing Katie did after being discharged from the emergency room was try to post my bail. “I really just fell,” she pleaded with the police. “It has nothing to do with my husband.” I squared my jaw. “It wasn’t me? Then how did you ‘fall’ into a pattern of whip marks across your back?” Katie’s eyes blazed with a desperate, furious light. “Steve, you’re insane! I’m trying to save you!” But I was a stone wall. “I did something wrong. I deserve to be punished. It’s that simple.” She was trembling with rage, but no matter how she argued or begged, I stuck to my story: it was a deliberate, vicious assault. Given that I’d turned myself in and was so cooperative, the police decided to hold me for five days. Katie had no choice but to be wheeled back to her hospital room. And there, in the sterile silence of a holding cell, a profound peace washed over me. This time, I thought, none of it can touch me. In my last life, the moment Ethan returned to this city, he didn’t just reappear; he ripped the heart right out of my marriage. Katie was gone, pulled back into his orbit, leaving me to face my nights alone. I remember lying in a seedy clinic, enduring some quack’s electroshock “treatment” for a depression I never had. The pain was excruciating. Then my phone rang. It was Katie. “Ethan’s been drinking,” she’d said, her voice rushed. “I have to go get him. I’ll be back for you in a bit.” She left without even bothering to turn off the machine. She was gone for the entire day. I was left there, strapped down, convulsing, my screams echoing in an empty room. It took two full days at home just to regain enough strength to stand. I was about to confront her, to demand an explanation, when the news broke. Ethan had trashed the Tiffany’s downtown. Then, he’d taken his car onto the freeway, hitting 120 mph, and slammed into a chain of twenty cars. I had tried to be the good guy. I’d urged him to turn himself in, told him we could sell our assets, the car, the house, to compensate the victims. Ethan had just sneered at me. “Steve, you’re the one who caused a hit-and-run. You’re the one who smashed up a jewelry store. Why should I sell my things for your mess?” Then Katie had produced the divorce papers I’d been tricked into signing weeks before. “We’re already divorced, Steve,” she’d said, her voice devoid of any emotion. “You’re on your own. The house, the cars, they were always mine. Don’t even think about touching them.” I was lost. It was Ethan who had committed the crimes, so why was I the one being forced to pay? But then the store manager, the accident victims—they all descended on me, demanding blood. They even had the surveillance footage. And on every screen, clear as day, was my face. 2 “The evidence is right here, Steve. Are you still going to deny it? Pay up!” “A twenty-car pile-up! You couldn’t pay for this with your life!” I stared at the screen, at my own face, a phantom committing crimes I never did. My mind was a tangled mess. How could this be? But this life would be different. I would not walk that path again. Five days later, I was released. I hadn’t even taken my first breath of fresh air when a hand clamped down on my arm, hard. “You’re the bastard who put my wife in the hospital!” a man roared, his face contorted with rage. “I’m going to kill you!” He lunged, grabbing for my collar. I sidestepped, my reflexes sharp. Suddenly, I was surrounded. A crowd had materialized out of nowhere, their faces twisted with malice, their eyes hungry for a scapegoat. “Steve, you goddamn murderer!” “He’s faking it! The depression, all of it! He smashes up stores, drives like a maniac—he’s a menace!” The mention of “120 mph” caught the attention of passersby. Phones came out, screens lit up. Someone was live-streaming. Faced with the snarling mob, I clenched my fists. Even after locking myself away, they still wouldn’t let me go. I took a breath and steadied myself. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I projected, my voice loud and clear. “These are baseless accusations.” The guy with the live-stream sneered and held out another phone, a video playing on its screen. “Who’s accusing you? See for yourself.” The video showed me walking into Tiffany’s with my mother. After a brief, tense argument, my face twisted into a mask of rage. I hurled my phone, shattering a glass counter. My mother was there, grabbing at my arm, her voice shrill. “Steve, stop! Stop it! We can’t afford this!” But the me on the screen was unmoved. I shoved her away, sending her sprawling to the floor. My mother, lying on the polished marble, clutched her chest and screamed to the onlookers, “That’s my son, Steve! He has depression! He can’t control himself!” A cold dread washed over me, heavier than any I’d felt before. In my last life, it was Katie who stood outside Tiffany’s, screaming that I was mentally ill. But this time, the very first thing I did was put Katie in the hospital and myself in a jail cell for five days. And the person screaming my name, branding me with the scarlet letter of insanity, was my own mother. How? How could this be happening again? “Nothing to say now, huh?” the man spat. The Tiffany’s story was already a viral sensation. Now, with the “culprit” found, the live-stream exploded, rocketing to the top of the trending charts. I stood there, my expression frozen, my eyes locked on the face in the video—my face. The store manager shoved a crumpled receipt into my chest, his own chest heaving with fury. “You smashed three of my counters! The jewelry inside is all damaged to some degree. The total is five million dollars.” He was almost choking on his words. “Some of those pieces were one-of-a-kind. And now they’re gone. Because of you.” A man whose car was part of the pile-up stepped forward, his face a mask of fury. “My wife is three months pregnant! Your little joyride scared her so badly she’s in the hospital right now, fighting to keep our baby. And you had the nerve to flee the scene. You’re coming with me to the station, right now.” He grabbed my arm, trying to drag me away. “Yeah! People like you should get the death penalty!” someone yelled. The cry was taken up by the crowd, their anger a single, unified roar. I fought to break free, shouting over the noise, “Everyone, just calm down! It wasn’t me who did these things!” The manager scoffed. “Your own mother was shouting your name in my store. How could it not be you?” “The person who did this was Ethan!” I explained desperately. “He’s my wife’s old flame. Go ask her! He’s the one who trashed the jewelry store and drove like a maniac!” Just as I was trying to make them understand, a sharp, stinging pain exploded across my cheek. Katie. She had appeared from nowhere, and her hand had connected with my face in a vicious slap. 3 “You’re still trying to frame Ethan?” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. “You’ll never change.” She grabbed the back of my head, trying to force me to my knees. “You’ve done enough damage. Now apologize to them!” I wrenched myself free. “It wasn’t me! Why should I apologize for something I didn’t do?” From behind her, Ethan peeked out, his face a perfect picture of wounded innocence. “Steve, how could you become like this?” he murmured, his voice laced with sorrow. “Katie is so good to you, and you put her in the hospital. Even now, she’s just worried about you, trying to get you a lighter sentence by having you apologize.” Ethan’s words were like gasoline on the fire of the crowd’s anger. Their glares intensified, thick with contempt. The live-stream chat filled with a torrent of abuse, and within minutes, someone had doxxed me, posting my home address for the world to see. I stared at Ethan. “I said it wasn’t me. Why are you so defensive?” Katie raised her hand to slap me again, but this time I caught her wrist. “I told you,” I said, my voice low and cold, “Ethan did this. What are you trying to do? Beat a confession out of me?” Seeing the attention shift back to him, Ethan cried out, “Steve, how can you accuse me like this? Yes, I know Katie and I were close once, but that was just a childhood friendship! To avoid any misunderstanding, I even moved to another city! I’ve put up with your paranoia for years, not because I’m afraid of you, but because I didn’t want to make your condition worse. Steve… it’s time to face reality.” His saccharine-sweet, manipulative performance was a masterpiece. The crowd ate it up. 【This guy’s sickness is his own damn fault. Paranoid, sees rivals everywhere.】 【The dude tries to help him and he just attacks him. What a psycho.】 【I bet his kid won’t be a child model lmao.】 The chat was a cesspool of mockery. Katie’s face flushed with anger. She kicked the back of my knee. “Apologize. Now.” Just then, my mother pushed her way through the crowd. She looked at me, her eyes filled not with maternal love, but with profound disappointment. “Steve,” she said, her voice heavy. “Go turn yourself in.” “We went to Tiffany’s together yesterday. The others might not know, but I’m your mother. How could I not know what you did?” Katie held my leg down. The crowd spat insults. Someone threw a rotten egg. It shattered against my skull, cold, stinking yolk slithering down my forehead. The commotion finally drew the attention of the police. “Stop! Everybody back off!” An officer pushed through, creating a barrier between me and the mob. He saw me and froze for a second, then his expression hardened. “Steve? You’re not even home yet and you’re already causing trouble?” Seeing him was like finding a life raft in a storm. I grabbed his arm. “Officer, thank God you’re here. You have to help me.” The man whose wife was in the hospital snorted. “Why would a cop help a piece of trash like you?” Katie sighed dramatically. “Steve, just confess. You might get a lighter sentence.” The officer looked at the chaotic scene, a frown creasing his brow as he finally pieced things together. “You’ve been out for ten minutes. What could you have possibly done now?” Ignoring the shocked faces around me, I began to speak, my voice steady. “They’re all saying I smashed up Tiffany’s yesterday. A luxury store I can’t even afford to walk into. They’re saying I was doing 120 on the freeway. And they all came straight here, demanding justice from me.” The officer’s face went blank. “How is that possible?” As the crowd exchanged confused glances, Katie shrieked, “Steve! What did you do to get the police on your side too? You caused millions in damages, you wrecked all those cars, people were hurt! How dare this officer cover for you!” 4 Her accusation was all it took. The live-streamer’s phone was instantly shoved in the officer’s face. The comments section flooded with theories of bribery and corruption. The officer’s face darkened as he saw the screen. “What the hell are you people talking about? Steve has been in police custody, in a holding cell, for the past five days. How could he possibly be the one who did all this?” A stunned silence fell over the crowd. The live-stream chat froze for a beat before erupting with even more frantic energy. 【Wait, so Steve was in jail for 5 days… but the guy who trashed Tiffany’s and caused the pile-up YESTERDAY… was also Steve?】 【Impossible. Unless Steve can teleport.】 The victims who had come for my blood now looked hesitant. I stood up straight, my voice ringing with sincerity. “Everyone, I don’t know why my face is on that surveillance video, but I can promise you, at the time of these incidents, I was in a cell, trying to be a better person. I never left.” A user in the live-stream chat suggested the video might be a deepfake. The Tiffany’s manager was the first to shoot that down. “No way. That’s from my store’s internal security system.” To get to the bottom of it, the officer called in a forensics team to analyze the footage. The result was baffling: the videos were authentic, unaltered. And the face in them was undeniably mine. The crowd erupted in confused chatter. Katie, her face a mask of feigned concern, her eyes darting nervously, suddenly had a flash of inspiration. “That is Steve. I’ve slept next to him for years, I know his face. He must have snuck out!” she declared. “He has depression! He probably faked being sick in jail so they’d take him to the hospital, and then he escaped from there!” Ethan gasped, playing his part perfectly. “That must be it! Steve used to do that all the time, use his ‘depression’ as an excuse to get to the hospital and then just sneak out!” He turned to the police. “Officer, the evidence is overwhelming! You have to arrest him!” His words were the spark that reignited the mob’s fury. They surged forward, their voices a unified chant: “Arrest him! Arrest him!” The officer’s face was grim. “During his time in custody, Steve was never taken to the hospital.” But just as he said it, another officer approached, his expression troubled. “Actually, sir… Steve did complain of feeling unwell yesterday. We were worried about his condition, so we did take him to the hospital for a check-up.” The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Ethan’s face lit up with triumph. “You see, Officer? I was right! Arrest him! He deserves life in prison for this!” Now, even the cops were looking at me with suspicion. I turned to them, my voice pleading. “Officers, you have to clear my name. I was brought in five days ago. Even when I was at the hospital yesterday, you were with me the whole time.” The second officer looked down, his voice barely a whisper. “For the urology exam… I didn’t go in with you.” Ethan seized on it instantly. “That’s it! He slipped out during the exam! That hospital isn’t far from Tiffany’s!” he shouted. “Confess, Steve, and maybe they’ll show you some mercy!” He put on a show of heartfelt concern, a performance that had the live-stream viewers praising his magnanimity. How could he be so forgiving to the man who had wronged him so? The crowd grew louder, more aggressive. They closed in, shoving, pushing. Hands grabbed at my clothes, my arms. I was a ship tossed in a storm, my face stinging from a fresh scratch. But as I was buffeted back and forth, a slow smile spread across my lips. Not because I had lost my mind. But because I knew Ethan would never let this go easily. And this time, I had come prepared. “STOP! I can prove Steve didn’t do any of this!” The voice cut through the chaos like a razor. My smile widened. The person I was waiting for had finally arrived.

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My mother despised women. Even me, her own daughter. From the moment I was born, she seemed to wish me dead. I’d get beaten for wearing lipstick, for wearing a dress, and especially for getting too close to my father. Just before my college entrance exams, my misogynistic mother spread a vicious rumor at my school, claiming I was seducing my own father. She pushed me until I jumped from the fifteenth floor. And my mother, she was satisfied with that result. 1 In the hospital, the doctor joyfully took me from the neonatal specialist and announced to my mother: “It’s a girl! Her skin is so fair and bright, she’ll be a real beauty when she grows up!” At those words, my mother’s already pale face twisted. She lunged, grabbing the young female doctor by the hair and slapping her across the face, her voice a raw shriek that echoed down the hallway. “You bitch! Did you switch my son? I ate all those dried geckos! It was supposed to be a boy!” It took an older doctor and a paternity test to finally convince her. The moment she saw the report, she broke, her eyes fixed on me, filled with a venom that could kill. It was my aunt who, with quick thinking, called my father to de-escalate the situation. My mother never forgave my aunt for that phone call. When she was well enough, my father took her home. My aunt, worried, came to visit. From the hallway, she could hear my faint, weak cries. In the bedroom, my father was patiently feeding my mother a bowl of freshly cooked porridge. “David,” my mother pleaded, “swear to me. Swear you’ll only love me for the rest of your life. You can’t love her more just because she’s your daughter. You can’t hold her. You can’t kiss her.” A moment passed before my father quietly agreed. The warm glow of dusk filled the room, painting a scene of domestic harmony that sent a chill down my aunt’s spine. My father, to his credit, kept his word. In all my memories, we never once had any physical contact. But that wasn’t enough for my mother. When I was seven, I walked the three miles home from school only to be met with a stinging slap across the face. The reason? She had found a picture of me on my father’s phone. “Learning such trashy things at your age! Who taught you this?!” she screamed, jabbing the phone at my nose. I didn’t understand what she was talking about. I looked around the room, desperate for my father’s help. All I got was a brutal beating. After that, my picture never appeared on my father’s phone again. I’ll never forget the triumphant, possessive look on my mother’s face. When I was thirteen, for my father’s birthday, I snuck into his study early in the morning and left a gift on his desk—a sweater. It wasn’t expensive, but it had cost me more than half a year’s worth of allowance. That evening, I came home to find the light on in his study and my mother in the living room, a cold sneer on her face. The floor was littered with shredded fabric. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do, you little slut!” A rain of fists and feet fell upon me. I writhed on the floor in agony. The light in the study stayed on, but the door never opened. My mother often complained to the neighborhood gossips: “Such a misfortune! My own daughter is a little seductress, can’t even leave her own father alone!” Everywhere I went, I was followed by whispers. I grew used to it. Then, a new woman moved in upstairs. Mrs. Gable was kind, with a gentle voice and a warm heart. Whenever my mother kicked me out, she would bring me snacks. For me, she was one of the few rays of light in my life. But heaven didn’t let me keep that light for long. One day, I was waiting outside our apartment for my mother to finish her mahjong game. Mrs. Gable came downstairs and, after greeting me, noticed my chapped lips. She went back up and returned with a brand-new lip balm. I had never worn makeup before and didn’t realize it was a color-changing balm. I happily applied it, and then my mother returned. When she saw the rosy tint on my lips, her hand flew out and struck me across the face. 2 The blow sent me sprawling, my vision filled with stars. A front tooth, loosened by the force of the slap, wobbled in my mouth, the taste of rust spreading across my tongue. Her words were vile, so vile that neighbors poked their heads out to watch the spectacle, but no one intervened. In their eyes, I suppose, I really was the disgusting creature my mother claimed I was—a wretch trying to seduce her own father. Mrs. Gable heard the commotion and came downstairs. I didn’t want her to see me like this, broken and humiliated, or to hear the filthy rumors about me. I tried to shrink into the corner, to make myself invisible, but my mother dragged me out and shoved me in front of her. “Was it you? Did you give her this lip balm, you bitch?” “Are you trying to help her seduce my husband?” “You’re both disgusting!” I stumbled, my head bowed in shame. But Mrs. Gable stepped in front of me, shielding me with her body. I saw the pain and self-blame in her eyes. “I gave it to her,” she said, her voice firm. “She’s just a child. What harm could she possibly mean? How can you, as her mother, say such things about your own daughter?” She tried to reason with my mother, to make her see sense. But my mother was beyond reason. She shot me a cold, calculating look that made my blood run cold. She raised her hand, and Mrs. Gable stood her ground, probably not believing my mother would actually strike her. But I knew better. I had seen my mother attack countless women over the years. The thought of Mrs. Gable’s kind, gentle face being marred because of me made my whole body tremble. Before the slap could land, I lunged forward. It was the first time I had ever fought back. I only managed to cling to her arm, but it earned me an even more ferocious beating. In the chaos, my forehead slammed against a rusty railing. Blood gushed from the wound. The neighbors, startled, slammed their doors shut. My mother didn’t stop. She shoved Mrs. Gable to the ground. My vision blurred. I could hear my father’s footsteps coming up the stairs, home from work. I tried to scream for help, but my voice was a strangled whisper. Then our apartment door slammed shut, without a moment’s hesitation. Through it all, Mrs. Gable pleaded for me, her initial anger giving way to desperate bargaining. “I’ll leave! I’ll move out in a few days, I’ll never show my face here again! Just please, let the child go!” I managed to lift my head and saw that her face was streaked with tears. My mother, whether she had agreed to Mrs. Gable’s terms or was simply tired, finally stopped. She tossed me aside like a piece of trash and went inside. I never saw Mrs. Gable again. Before she left, she gave me a few things. I hid them away, too precious to use. Even with Mrs. Gable gone, my mother’s hatred for me didn’t wane. With every year I grew older, her loathing deepened. Lately, a new, calculating look had entered her eyes when she looked at me. It was as if I wasn’t her daughter, but a rival for her husband’s affection. Her stare made my skin crawl, but I found solace at school. Over the years, no matter how many times I had thought of giving up, the sight of my best friend, Tina, always gave me a reason to keep going. It was as if all the suffering I had endured was just to meet an angel like her. Tina didn’t know about my home life. But whenever she saw the bruises on my face, she would give me a hug. “It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” One sentence, one hug—that was the source of all my strength. My homeroom teacher also valued me for my diligence and good grades. I held onto Mrs. Gable’s final words to me—”study hard”—like a lifeline. I believed that if I just studied hard enough, one day I could escape that hell, escape that monster of a mother. Then, when I was eighteen, a senior in high school, my teacher patted my shoulder, a proud smile on his face. “Excellent work. Keep this up, and you’ll have no problem getting into the local state university.” My mock exam scores came back. I was still in the top ten of my grade. My teacher was thrilled. He treated me and a few other top students to a meal at the cafeteria’s second-floor diner. Afterward, I lagged behind the group. I was so happy I could have screamed, but years of repression had stolen my ability to smile. The thought that in just twenty more days I would be free brought tears to my eyes. “Amanda,” my teacher’s voice was gentle. He must have noticed my emotions. “Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. You have a long road ahead of you.” Just then, Tina ran up, waving. “Amanda! Let’s walk home together!” Seeing her, so vibrant and full of life, a tiny seed of hope sprouted in my heart. Maybe, just maybe, if I could get through this, I could be like her. A bright future, an open road. That night, I came home to find my mother sitting in the living room. The familiar scene made my heart leap into my throat. I tried to hurry to my room, but she grabbed me by the hair from behind. 3 I hit the floor hard, the backpack digging into my spine. My mother kicked me a few times, then stalked over to the coffee table, muttering curses under her breath. “If it wasn’t for the junk collector, I never would have known! You little bitch, hoarding this trash!” “Skirts! Lipstick! Stealing money from the family to buy this garbage at your age!” “You’re trying to steal my husband!” She grabbed the items one by one and hurled them at me. The lip balm and snacks from Mrs. Gable, and a small dress. The food was long expired, but I had treasured it. Now it was scattered across the floor. I curled into a ball, trying to protect myself, clutching the dress that smelled of mildew from being hidden away for so long. Just hold on a little longer. It’ll be over soon. The pain was a dull, familiar ache. Hope was so close. I just had to endure. I kept telling myself that. But then came the parent-teacher conference. It was just a few days before the final exams. I didn’t think much of it; they never came to these things. I used to dream of it, but I had long since gotten used to their absence. I just thought of it as a day off. The next day, my mother wasn’t home. She seemed to have left early. For some reason, my heart was pounding. It wasn’t until I saw her downstairs that afternoon, humming as she played mahjong, that I finally relaxed. I had already contacted my old summer job boss. He’d agreed to take me on again, even providing a dorm room. The summer’s wages would be enough to cover my first year of tuition. I was so lost in my happy plans for the future that I didn’t notice the strange looks my classmates were giving me. Looks of glee, of disgust. It was Tina, abruptly pulling her hand away from mine, that brought me back to reality. “What’s wrong, Tina?” I asked, my voice trembling as I saw the strange expression on her face. “My mom said…” Tina stammered, unable to form a complete sentence, but the distance in her eyes was something I had never seen before. A boy nearby finished her sentence for her. “She said you’re a slut who’d even screw her own father!” A roar of laughter filled the classroom. The topic was clearly a hit. The room, which had been emptying out, was suddenly full and buzzing with excitement. “Wow, Amanda, I never knew you were such a freak.” “You put on a good act, don’t you? After exams, want to try it with us? We’re definitely better than your dad!” I saw the cruel delight in their eyes. The words hit me, and the color drained from my face. I grabbed whatever I could and threw it at them. They dodged easily, their taunts relentless. “Whoa, watch out! The whore is throwing a tantrum!” In that moment, all the blood rushed to my head. I wanted to kill them. It was my teacher who stopped me. I followed him to his office in a daze, my body shaking uncontrollably. But this time, he didn’t pat my shoulder. His eyes were filled with a mixture of pity and hesitation. “Amanda,” he began, “your mother told me everything. Maybe you’re still young, you don’t understand what love is…” My mind went blank. I suddenly understood why my mother, who always spent her afternoons playing cards, had been sitting right on my path home, humming a tune. A chilling coldness spread from the pit of my stomach. I turned and walked out of the office without a word. I buried my face in my collar, as if that could shield me from the world. The next few days were a living hell. Tina started deliberately ignoring me, finding other girls to walk home and eat with. The boys who collected homework would intentionally hold theirs back, and when the teacher asked, they would stand up and shout for the whole class to hear: “I don’t want to touch it. She’s dirty!” My teacher, at a loss, had someone else take over my duties. But that person would “accidentally” miss my homework too, and then giggle and repeat the same line. Suddenly, I had no one to turn to. The weight of it all was crushing me, suffocating me. That night, I went home and saw the triumphant smile on my mother’s face. And I knew. This was the result she had wanted all along. 4 The noisy crowd below pulled my attention back. A sea of young, vibrant faces stared up at me. The words of those boys from my class echoed in my ears. “What, you can’t take it anymore?” My notes from three years of high school, the culmination of all my hard work, were gone. When I finally found them, they were soaking in a bucket of filthy water, ruined beyond recognition. I heard a group of boys snickering behind me. In that moment, a profound weariness washed over me. Even breathing felt like a struggle. All I ever wanted was to live. Why was it so hard? “If you can’t take it, just die. A person like you doesn’t deserve to be alive anyway.” The boy’s words were poison. I ignored them and tried to walk away. But one of them grabbed my arm, telling me to “play” with him. In a panic, I scrambled up to the rooftop. My only intention was to escape their harassment. But I had forgotten it was the busiest time of day at school. Students, finished with lunch, were heading back to their classrooms, and they all looked up and saw me. I don’t know what my mother told them that day, but I can imagine the school was flooded with vicious rumors about me. Not a single person looking up at me had sympathy in their eyes. Only a morbid curiosity. “Is that the really smart girl from Class One? I heard she’s promiscuous, sleeps with a lot of guys.” “Her own mother said it. How could it be fake?” “She asked me to get a room with her a few days ago. I turned her down!” “I heard she’s good, though.” “What do you know? She’s dirty!” The rumors were a snowball, growing bigger and bigger, until they had crushed me. A victim’s explanation is always so weak, so powerless. Someone from the crowd below shouted for me to jump, that a twisted, immoral person like me didn’t deserve to live in this world. I stared at that stranger’s face for a long time. Then, amidst a chorus of screams, I jumped. I hit the ground hard. Blood splattered everywhere. The crowd scattered in terror, but their clothes were already stained with my blood. Not a single one of them was innocent.

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1 The most explosive scandal of the year at Kingston University wasn’t about grades or cheating—it was an intimate video of Joy’s first time, leaked to the entire campus network. The video was filmed in the presidential suite of a five-star hotel. Joy, completely bare, was pressed against a floor-to-ceiling window by a man who towered over her, a breathless rhythm that echoed against the glass. When it was over, the man leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “Such a good girl.” Two simple words, yet they detonated like a bomb in the campus group chats. 【That voice… is that Shane Sterling?】 【Damn, Joy really plays her cards right. She actually managed to snag a member of the university’s board of directors! No wonder all her bullies suddenly vanished.】 【I always thought Joy was this innocent little thing. Turns out she’s a scheming social climber. What do you expect from the other woman’s daughter?】 The rumors reached Joy while she was in her dorm room, knitting a scarf for Shane. Her roommate blasted the video’s audio, a smirk plastered on her face as she passed her phone around. “Wow, Joy,” she drawled, “you sound like a pro. Guess you get a lot of practice, huh?” A wave of cruel laughter washed over the room. Joy froze, the color draining from her face. The half-finished scarf slipped from her numb fingers as she bolted from the room. She ran, stumbling, toward Shane’s office, desperate to ask him what was happening. But as she neared the door, she heard voices drifting from within, laced with mockery. “Shane, you really don’t pull your punches, man. You made sure to get her face crystal clear in that shot. She doesn’t even have a sliver of plausible deniability.” The words hit Joy like a physical blow. A chilling coldness seeped into her bones. “Well, she brought it on herself,” another voice chimed in. “You don’t mess with the woman Shane truly loves and get away with it. She deserved the payback.” “Still, props to our boy Shane. He had to spread those rumors about Joy’s mom being a homewrecker, then swoop in like a white knight to deal with her bullies, all while playing the part of the devoted lover. That’s some serious method acting.” “Speaking of which, when are you gonna drop the bomb on her, Shane? When that girl finds out the man she’s been obsessed with is actually her future brother-in-law, she’s gonna cry herself into a coma. Hahaha…” On the sofa, Shane Sterling sat in a cloud of smoke, the picture of lazy indifference. He tapped his cigarette on the edge of an ashtray, his expression unreadable. One of his friends noticed his silence. “What, getting soft on her? Don’t forget how she schemed to get your precious Sierra exiled abroad for two whole years. She made Sierra’s life a living hell over there, barely enough to eat. You can’t let her off that easy.” At the mention of Sierra’s name, Shane finally stirred. He stubbed out his cigarette. “I’ll wait for Sierra to come back,” he said, his voice a low, gravelly murmur. “Her return coincides with the anniversary Joy’s been looking forward to. I’ll give her a ‘surprise’ she’ll never forget. It’s time she paid back every last thing she owes Sierra.” Joy’s breath hitched. Through the haze of smoke, her eyes fixed on Shane’s handsome, cold face. A chasm ripped open in her chest, the pain so sharp it made her vision swim. So, he was the one who spread those vicious lies about her mother. He pursued her, protected her, all as part of a twisted game of revenge. The person he truly loved was her half-sister, Sierra. She couldn’t bear to hear another word. She turned and fled. She hadn’t made it more than a few steps before a group of girls blocked her path. “Well, well, if it isn’t the star of the show!” “Just came from the office, did you? Offering yourself up for another round?” Joy’s face was ashen. She tried to push past them, but they shoved her back and forth like a rag doll. Just then, Shane’s icy voice cut through the air from behind her. “You dare touch Joy right under my nose? Got a death wish?” Shane had emerged from his office, his tall, imposing figure striding toward them. The girls scattered like frightened birds. He reached Joy’s side, his fingers gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned down, his thumb stroking her cheek as their eyes met. “What did I tell you? If anyone gives you trouble, you use my name.” The familiar scent of tobacco filled her nostrils, so sharp it made her eyes burn. The man before her blurred with the countless memories of him protecting her, a dream that had become a nightmare. After her mother’s suicide, her father had rekindled his romance with his first love, leaving Joy in a life lonelier than any orphan’s. Then the rumors started—that her mother was a homewrecker, that Sierra was the true, legitimate daughter. As “the other woman’s daughter,” she became an easy target for bullies. It was Shane who had saved her. As a member of the university’s board, he had effortlessly created a sanctuary for her. Just last night, on his birthday, fueled by wine and desire, they had finally crossed that line. He had shed his usual elegant and noble demeanor, pressing her forcefully against the bare glass of the panoramic window, his gaze devouring her trembling body. In that moment, Joy had felt like a bird long lost at sea, finally finding its nest. She never imagined the nest was a trap, built on a foundation of lies and manipulation. Her mind reeled. By the time she snapped out of her daze, Shane was leading her out of the building and settling her into the passenger seat of his car. 2 As he always did, Shane leaned over to fasten her seatbelt. He noticed her red-rimmed eyes and softened his voice. “The video was an accident. I’ll have it taken care of. You’re not in a good state today. I’ll take you home to rest.” Joy pressed her lips together, his words from the office echoing in her mind. Tears she couldn’t control began to fall. Shane paused, his expression shifting slightly. He gently wiped a tear from her cheek, then seemed to remember something. “Wait here a second. I need to grab something.” The car door clicked shut. It was only then that Joy noticed Shane had left his phone behind. It sat in the console’s recess, and with a sense of dread, she picked it up. She typed in Sierra’s birthday. The phone unlocked. At the top of his messages, pinned, was Sierra’s name. In their most recent chat, Sierra had asked if he could break things off with Joy cleanly before she returned. Shane’s reply: She’s just a toy. We were never really together. Joy’s heart seized. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she scrolled up. For the two years Sierra was abroad, Shane had called her every single day, without fail, around 8 PM. This was the time he always told Joy he had a “board meeting” and couldn’t be disturbed. He also transferred a six-figure sum to Sierra’s account every month, no message attached, just cold, hard cash. Sierra, in return, was a master of affection, sending selfies for his approval. Shane would reply with cute pet emojis Joy had never seen him use, reminding her not to wear too little and to take care not to catch a cold. Staring at the screen, Joy finally understood. She had never known the real Shane. The tenderness he showed her was merely the tip of an iceberg, a pale reflection of the ocean of affection he reserved for Sierra. When Shane returned, he was holding a small box. Emergency contraception. He stroked her hair, his voice a gentle caress. “Last night was… rushed. I wasn’t careful enough. Take this, just in case.” Joy’s hands clenched around the box, her nails digging into the cardboard. She bit her lip so hard she could taste blood. If she hadn’t heard the truth with her own ears, she would still be naively believing he genuinely cared for her. Now, she was wide awake. When the car pulled up to her family’s villa, Shane leaned in for their customary farewell kiss. But Joy flinched away, fumbling to unbuckle her seatbelt. His eyes darkened. He wrapped an arm around her, trapping her against the seat. “Still upset about the video?” “…” “I didn’t record it, Joy. The hotel manager has already been fired.” He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “I never intended to hurt you, and I never will. Our anniversary is coming up. I’ll make it up to you then, I promise.” A lie disguised as kindness was a blade that cut deeper than the truth. Joy’s nose stung. She pushed him away. “I’m going inside.” She practically sprinted into the villa. But as she burst through the door, she collided with her father. His face was a thundercloud. Before she could speak, his hand swung through the air, and a sharp slap echoed in the foyer. “Joy, I really underestimated you. A relationship is one thing, but to film that kind of disgraceful video… you’ve brought nothing but shame on this family!” “No wonder those kids at your school target you. You’re so filthy yourself, you attract flies!” He finished his tirade by throwing a plane ticket at her feet. “I’ve booked you a flight for seven days from now. Get as far away from here as you can, and don’t ever come back!” Joy picked up the ticket, her fingers trembling. It felt like a verdict, a final sentence declaring her an outcast from the world. Her father was ashamed of her. He wanted her gone. Fine. She didn’t want to stay either. “I’ll go,” she said, her voice eerily calm. “And I’ll listen to you. I’ll never come back.” Her father blinked, as if he’d misheard. He’d tried to convince her to go abroad with Sierra for further studies before, but Joy had refused, admitting she was in a relationship with someone she loved more than anything. He’d expected her to refuse again. He hadn’t expected this quiet, immediate compliance. His anger subsided slightly. “Sierra is coming home this weekend,” he said, his tone still cold. “I’m hosting a welcome-home party for her. You will attend. The video is already out there. If you don’t show your face, you’ll just be confirming all the rumors.” Joy nodded. “I understand.” … Joy took three days off from the university. She spent them packing up every gift Shane had ever given her and listing them for sale online. Three days later, Sierra returned. Her father threw a lavish party at the city’s grandest hotel, inviting every influential figure in the business world. Including Shane. Joy hadn’t expected to see him there. She turned to leave, but he caught her wrist, pulling her into a deserted corridor. He pressed her against the wall, his hands caging her in, his hot breath fanning across her ear. “You haven’t been to class. You haven’t answered my messages. You didn’t even say a word about our anniversary.” “Joy,” he growled, “do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?” 3 His gaze bored into her, raw with frustration over her disappearance. Joy pressed her lips together, summoning the courage to meet his eyes. “Since when does Shane Sterling worry about an insignificant f*ck buddy?” Her sudden defiance, so different from her usual compliance, seemed to catch him off guard. A flicker of something dark crossed his face, a rebellious spark igniting in his eyes. He yanked her closer, his arm tightening around her waist like a steel band. “Fck buddy?” he snarled. “We were together for two years, and it happened once. You call that a fck buddy relationship?” Joy didn’t know what had gotten into him. He was leaning in, his lips about to crush hers, when a voice interrupted them. “Shane, there you are. Sierra’s been looking for you.” Shane’s brow furrowed. He released Joy, turning to his friend. “Got it. I’ll be right there.” Joy seized the opportunity, her voice a mask of surprise. “You know my sister?” “Know her?” Shane’s friend laughed, a look of pure mischief on his face. “Oh, their relationship is a lot more thrilling than you think. Joy, you’d better prepare to have your mind blown.” As the two men walked away, a flicker of scorn crossed Joy’s face. They thought she was still in the dark, planning to stage a grand humiliation for her tonight. They had no idea she had already pulled herself together, ready to sever all ties with Shane for good. Later that evening, in the middle of the bustling banquet, the lights suddenly died. A single spotlight shot to the stage, illuminating Shane, dapper in a tailored suit, with Sierra on his arm, radiant in a white couture gown. Joy’s father beamed, raising a hand to quiet the crowd. “Friends, I’ve invited you all here tonight for two reasons. First, to welcome my daughter Sierra home from her studies abroad. And second, to announce some wonderful news!” “The Sterlings and our family have been friends for generations. Years ago, we arranged a marriage between Sierra and young Shane. Now, seeing them so deeply in love, we are thrilled to announce that their engagement party will be held at the end of the month. We hope you will all join us to witness their happiness!” As her father finished, Shane’s friends all turned in unison to look at Joy, their faces alight with anticipation, waiting for her to break. But Joy simply stood there in the crowd, her expression a placid mask, as if the drama unfolding on stage had nothing to do with her. Shane frowned. In his script, Joy was supposed to have a complete meltdown upon learning the truth. But her composure was unsettling, almost unnatural. A strange unease coiled in his gut. Sierra, ever perceptive, sensed his shift in mood. “Shane, what’s wrong?” she whispered. He pulled his gaze away from Joy. “Nothing. Just lost in thought for a moment.” He knew Joy. He knew how deeply she felt for him. She couldn’t possibly be this unfazed. She had to be putting on a brave face. … Joy escaped to the restroom and splashed cold water on her face. Thinking back on her foolish infatuation with Shane, she felt like the world’s biggest idiot. No wonder he had only touched her once in two years. It wasn’t because he treasured her; it was because he found her repulsive. Her first time, something she had held so sacred, was nothing more than a weapon for him to use, a perfect tool for her public ruin. When she returned to the banquet hall, her father immediately called her over. “Joy, come and say hello to your brother-in-law.” She walked up to Shane, a perfectly polite smile gracing her lips. “Hello, brother-in-law.” At the words “brother-in-law,” Shane’s face tightened. Sierra, however, was oblivious, her smile radiant. “Joy! I just heard Shane is on the board at your university. What a coincidence! If you ever run into any trouble, you can just ask your brother-in-law for help. We’re all family now, after all.” Joy clenched her jaw. “I won’t be any trouble,” she said, each word a carefully carved stone. She didn’t look at Shane, but she could feel his gaze on her, sharp and cold as a winter wind, making her shiver. After a few more strained pleasantries, Joy tried to excuse herself. But Sierra looped an arm through hers, her voice cloyingly sweet. “Joy, it’s been so long. I have so much to tell you.” Without waiting for a reply, she dragged Joy into a private lounge. The moment the door clicked shut, Sierra’s smile vanished, replaced by a cold, venomous sneer. “Joy, I heard you slept with Shane. And that the video is everywhere. Did you really think you could use such a cheap trick to keep him?” “Let me tell you the truth. He doesn’t like you. In fact, he’s disgusted by you.” “The rumors about your mother being a homewrecker? I had him spread them. Him pursuing you? That was my idea, too. I wanted to watch you fall hopelessly in love with him, only to be destroyed by his own hand!” 4 “Why?” Joy whispered, the single word escaping her lips. “Why?” Sierra sneered. “Because you have no self-awareness! Your mother has been dead for years, yet you still cling to everything that belongs to the Joy family. That wealth, that status—it should have all been mine! You’re the daughter of a homewrecker. What right do you have to any of it?” Joy could endure anything, but she would not stand for her mother being insulted. She lunged forward, her voice a low hiss forced through gritted teeth. “My mother was not a homewrecker. When she married my father, she didn’t even know you and your mother existed. You’re the ones who drove her to her death!” Stunned by Joy’s defiance, Sierra raised her hand to strike. But just then, the lounge door was pushed open. Catching a glimpse of Shane in her peripheral vision, Sierra’s mind raced. In a flash of cunning, she snatched a handful of nutty pastries from the table and shoved them into her mouth. The next second, her body went limp. She collapsed to the floor, her voice a muffled, panicked cry. “Joy… why did you make me eat this? You know I’m allergic to nuts…” Shane rushed to Sierra’s side, shoving Joy out of the way. Joy stumbled backward, her back slamming hard against a glass coffee table. With a sickening crash, the cups on the table shattered. Shards of glass dug into her palms, drawing blood. Shane didn’t even spare her a glance. He knelt, scooping Sierra into his arms. “Sierra, are you okay?” Tears welled in Sierra’s eyes as she clutched his arm. “I just wanted to talk to her… I don’t know what I did to offend her, but she just suddenly forced me to eat those pastries…” “Look at me,” she choked out, “am I breaking out in hives?” Shane looked down. Sure enough, angry red welts were blooming across Sierra’s skin at an alarming rate. “What do I do? The party isn’t over, I can’t embarrass you. Makeup… I need makeup to cover it!” Shane grabbed her wrist, his voice firm. “This is no time for that! Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital.” He lifted Sierra into his arms. Before leaving, he shot Joy a look of pure, cold loathing. Joy pushed herself up, fighting through the searing pain. Blood dripped from her hands, staining the hem of her dress crimson. But she felt numb, as if falling into an abyss had robbed her of all sensation. She called a waiter for a first-aid kit and, with trembling hands, clumsily bandaged her wounds. Exhausted and drained, she dragged her heavy feet out of the lounge, intending to leave. But as she stepped into the corridor, shadows lunged from a nearby storage closet, dragging her inside. A rough hand clamped over her jaw, forcing her head back. A stream of concentrated chili water was poured down her throat. Joy’s eyes flew open in terror. Like Sierra, she had a severe allergy—hers was to chili peppers. This much could kill her. “Mmph… stop…” She struggled wildly, but her attackers were relentless, forcing cup after cup of the burning liquid into her. She choked and gagged, her body convulsing violently. Her wounded hands clawed helplessly at the floor, the sound a frantic, desperate scratching. Her tormentors, seeing her agony, only grew more vicious. “Sierra is the woman Shane treasures most. Did you really think you could touch her and get away with it?” “We heard you got bullied a lot at school. You must be used up, passed around by all sorts of guys. A man like Shane, with his high standards, would never want a filthy, used-up whore like you.” “Just drink up. Consider it your apology to Sierra. Otherwise, we’ll make sure you suffer.” Joy’s vision blurred, her consciousness fading. With her last ounce of strength, she almost unconsciously whispered his name. “Shane…” A chorus of harsh laughter rained down on her. “Hahaha! You’re not actually hoping he’ll come save you, are you?” “He’s the one who told us to do this. You hurt Sierra. He’d be thrilled if you were dead!” “Come on, boys, let’s rip her clothes off and send some pictures to Shane. Let him have a little fun, too!” The men swarmed her, and in an instant, her dress was torn to shreds. They snapped photo after photo of her half-naked, dying body, not stopping until she finally lost her battle for consciousness and the world went black.

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1 Seven years into my mission to win Andrew Hayes’s heart, I carried his child. He’d once vowed to love me for a lifetime. But three years into our marriage, he held our son, his face a mask of pure hatred. “Sweetheart,” he cooed, “how about we get you a new mommy?” A cruel smile spread across my son’s face. “Yes! I hate that woman.” My mission failed. A System I was bound to stripped me of all my feelings, and I vanished. But Andrew found me again, our son in tow, his face etched with desperation. “I was wrong. Please, Caroline, can you come back?” But I couldn’t. I was already married, building a life that had nothing to do with them. — “I hate you! I don’t want you to be my mom!” With a violent shove, a dish of sizzling food crashed, splattering scalding oil on me. My son, Leo, screamed at me, his eyes burning with his father’s hatred. A sharp pain shot up from my wrist. From the living room, Andrew’s voice cut through the air, cold and impatient. “Are you that useless? Can’t even hold a damn plate? It’s pathetic. Even your own son can’t stand you.” He didn’t even look up, a contemptuous smirk on his lips. He never asked if I was hurt. He never helped. He didn’t love me. I had always known that. Today was the final day. If I failed my mission, the System would take away my ability to feel. I trembled as I pushed myself up, only for Leo to shove me back down. “Stupid woman!” Hearing this, Andrew sauntered over, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Come on, son. We’re not eating this garbage. How about we go find Aunt Selena?” He scooped Leo into his arms, his gaze a flash of chilling indifference toward me. “Yes! Daddy, I love Aunt Selena!” Leo clapped. “Can Selena be my mommy?” A genuine smile broke through Andrew’s cold exterior. “We’ll see, kiddo.” He shot me a look of pure provocation. I forced my lips into a smile that felt more like a grimace. As I watched them walk away, my heart felt as if it were being stitched with a thousand searing needles. The housekeeper, Mrs. Davis, rushed to help me. I just shook my head. The front door clicked shut. In that silence, the System’s voice echoed in my mind. “Host mission failed. All emotional and sensory faculties will now be revoked.” It was a real goodbye. Time to let go. I set a silent alarm on my phone, a secret countdown to my departure. Seven days… I started cleaning the greasy floor, my mind flashing back to when he’d fired the staff. “Only pathetic housewives ask so many questions,” he’d sneered. “You want to be a housewife? Fine. Do the work of one.” He never cared. But it didn’t matter anymore. Soon, I would be gone. I walked to the bay window, watching the rain. My fingers found our family portrait—Leo frowning, Andrew looking down, only me smiling like a fool. A family that hated being a family. Useless. I tore it to pieces and tossed it in the trash. Just then, a black Maybach pulled up. Andrew stepped out, his face handsome and sharp. From his good mood, I knew who would be next. A moment later, a woman with glamorous curls and a stunning black dress emerged. 2 It was Selena. The new mother my son longed for. The woman Andrew had always loved. She held Leo’s hand, his eyes shining with a light I’d never seen. He adored her. Just like his father, he’d stare at her picture for hours. With me, it was always the same refrain: “Just go away! No wonder Dad doesn’t love you.” I looked away. A quiet thought—how happy they look—drifted through my mind, carrying no sting. I knew with liberating clarity: I didn’t love Andrew anymore. And I no longer loved my son. Selena swept in, her eyes meeting mine with the cool confidence of a victor. This was the first time he’d brought a lover into our home. She probably saw it as a final triumph. But she wasn’t my rival anymore. I moved like a hostess, washing fruit and placing it on the coffee table. “Please, help yourself.” Selena’s eyes narrowed. In the past, this would’ve been my cue to run and cry. My composure was suspicious. Andrew grabbed my arm, his voice a low growl. “You’re washing fruit for her? Caroline, are you insane?” So this was love. He thought the fruit I touched was tainted. I looked into his cold eyes and saw a universe with no star for me. “If you don’t like it,” I said evenly, “I can take it away.” His jaw clenched. “Don’t you dare regret this.” His voice dripped with malice. “You like washing fruit so much? Fine. Wash every single piece of fruit in this house. You’re not sleeping until it’s done.” I nodded. “Okay.” I washed the fruit over and over. “Selena can’t eat things too cold,” he’d snap. “Or too hot.” I just nodded. Somehow, I still angered him. He hurled a bowl against the wall, stormed over, and grabbed me by the neck. “Caroline, are you done with this act? Don’t think this little show is getting my attention.” But I wasn’t acting. I no longer loved him. “The fruit… I washed it very carefully,” I blinked up at him. “Don’t you regret this,” he hissed. He let me go and pulled Selena into a devouring kiss, a performance meant to break me. I placed a hand over my chest. The familiar ache was gone. Even when Leo cheered, “Yay! Aunt Selena is going to be my new mommy!” I felt nothing. I had truly let go. A small smile touched my lips. I felt like I was watching the end of a movie. “Congratulations,” I said calmly. Congratulations to them. And to me. 3 Selena stayed the night. Andrew told me if I got on my knees and begged, he’d make her leave. I didn’t. I just shook my head and walked to my room. “Caroline, you said it was fine,” he called after me. “Don’t you dare regret this.” I won’t, I thought. I don’t know how much time passed before the sounds started from the room next door—soft moans, gasps, the rhythm of intimacy. I put in my earbuds. Two more days until I’m free. I was up before dawn, pulling out my things. After all these years, a single suitcase was only half full. Leo ran in. “Why are you packing? Don’t think you can threaten Dad by leaving. He’ll never love you!” Andrew appeared behind him, his face a mask of disdain. “Even a child can see through your little tricks, Caroline. Why keep up the act?” For years, his favorite line was, “Stop pretending.” He hated that I had, in his mind, trapped him into marriage. But it wasn’t me who wanted this. The truth didn’t matter now. This time, I wasn’t pretending. He led Selena out, laughing. As she passed, Selena whispered, “You should know when it’s time to leave.” Her face was alight with triumph. I nodded. It was time to go. Back in my room, I took our wedding photo from the wall and smashed the glass. He’d always hated it. It wasn’t until I saw the photo of him, Selena, and Leo on his nightstand that I understood. He didn’t hate the photo. He just hated me. One by one, I burned everything that reminded me of him—the photo, the journal filled with the love I once felt. Mrs. Davis rushed in, alarmed. “Ma’am, what are you doing? You’ll regret this!” I smiled and shook my head. “They were old. Time for something new.” I would never regret this. 4 By nightfall, only one thing remained to be packed: the divorce papers. Andrew’s mother called. “Caroline, our family has wronged you. If you want to leave, we won’t stop you. If it wasn’t for you back then… Andrew wouldn’t be alive today.” I managed a hollow laugh. “Mrs. Hayes, let’s just let the past be the past.” If not for that incident, I never would have stayed so long. “Consider the kidney a debt repaid.” She had a large sum of money transferred to my account. I stared at the numbers. My youth had been bought and paid for. Andrew didn’t come home for days. I didn’t call. My phone buzzed. It was a photo from Selena in a hotel room, Andrew likely in the shower nearby. I replied to her: Don’t worry. I’ll be leaving soon. You can have your happy ending. Minutes later, Andrew called, his voice edged with panic. “Are you crazy? Why do you always have to play the saint?” I ended the call. The front door burst open. Andrew stood there, pale and panting. He lunged. “You’re alive, so why didn’t you answer your damn phone?” He grabbed my chin. “I… I didn’t want to bother you…” I stammered. “Bother me?” he spat. “Right, the silent treatment. God, Caroline, you’re such a good actress.” He slammed me against the kitchen door, then threw me onto the sofa. The impact nearly knocked the wind out of me. He pinned me down, his mouth crashing onto mine in a punishing assault. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he hissed, his voice raw. “Fine. I’ll give it to you.” Fear coiled in my stomach. I whimpered his name. He just laughed coldly. His phone rang—a jarring intrusion. He swiped it away without looking. “Still playing the innocent virgin, are you?” I endured the pain and humiliation. I was a puppet in his angry hands, my tears swallowed by the silent night. An overwhelming shame washed over me. So this is what he thought of me. Of course. He had always looked down on me. 5 When I woke up, the sun was high. He was stepping out of the bathroom, a towel on his hips, his upper body bare. The sunlight caught the lines of his sculpted muscles. For a second, I was transported back to the early days of our love. A sharp pain brought me back to reality. “Still not done with the act?” he sneered, tossing a bottle of painkillers onto the bed. “I’m leaving. Don’t call me.” I knew Selena had been calling last night. Twenty missed calls. I struggled to stand and stumbled. For a moment, I thought I saw him reach out to steady me. But his hand never touched me. Instead, he casually plucked his belt from the sofa. “Is that all you’ve got?” My clothes were scattered everywhere. His were neatly folded on a chair. I didn’t speak, just slowly picked up my clothes and clumsily pulled them on. He paused at the door. “What are you doing with that suitcase?” There was a flicker of something in his eyes—alarm?—but it vanished. He couldn’t care if I left. “Nothing,” I said. “Just old junk I’m throwing out.” He seemed to relax. “If you’d been this obedient from the start, I might have been nicer to you.” The door slammed shut. Don’t worry, Andrew, I thought. I’ll be quiet soon. So quiet I’ll disappear from your life, just like you’ve always wanted. The day of my departure crept closer. I had to visit the Hayes estate one last time to hand over Leo’s school documents. I took a taxi to the South Hills Manor estates.

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