For eight years, I secretly dated my best friend’s sister, Eleonora Chan—the powerful CEO who was my boss by day, my lover by night. I discovered the receipt for a one-of-a-kind engagement ring and followed her to a lavishly decorated venue, heart pounding. But it wasn’t me she proposed to—it was a man who looked exactly like me. “Finally got your golden boy back,” her friend smirked. “When will you dump the substitute?” Nora exhaled cigarette smoke lazily. “The poor boy’s too in love. I’ll deal with him later.” That night, I texted my mother: [I’ll accept the arranged marriage.] And when Nora saw my marriage license photo on her wedding day—the color drained from her face. 1 After confirming the marriage alliance with my mother, I booked the first flight out. Forcing the image of Nora’s proposal from my mind, I rushed back to the apartment we shared and threw my belongings into a suitcase. I was in the living room, grabbing my last few things, when Nora walked in, her face lit with a joy I’d never seen before. “Oh, Dustin,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around me from behind. “I love you so much. Let’s be together forever, okay?” She leaned in to kiss me, her breath thick with the scent of alcohol and a sharp, overpowering cologne. It was the same classic cologne she always insisted on buying for me, no matter how many times I told her I preferred the warmer, woody scent of cedar. I’d even gotten an earful from her the few times I’d forgotten to wear it. Now I understood. The man she loved, the man who wore this scent, was someone else entirely. From the very beginning, I was nothing more than a replica she was crafting. A wave of disgust washed over me, and I flinched away from her touch. But the desire in her eyes didn’t fade. She slammed me against the door, her cool hands already sliding under the hem of my shirt. “Nora! Get off me!” Surprise flickered in her eyes. I had never spoken to her like that. She opened her mouth to question me, but the doorbell chimed, interrupting the moment. She opened the door, and a man burst in, sweeping her into his arms and planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Then he saw me, his smile a blinding, triumphant glare. “You must be Dustin,” he said, his voice dripping with false cordiality. “The secretary who’s been by Nora’s side for eight years, right?” “Pleasure to meet you. I’m James, Nora’s fiancé. Thanks for looking after her for me all these years!” The rich scent of that same cologne wafted off him, identical to the one clinging to Nora. It was suffocating. I didn’t move. I just stared at her. Nora faltered for a second before her gaze slid away from mine. “Yes,” she confirmed, her voice suddenly flat. “This is the junior secretary I told you about. He doesn’t make much, so I let him stay in the guest room. It’s convenient for when I need help with odd jobs.” James waved a dismissive hand. “Nora, darling, why are you explaining again? I’m not some petty man who can’t separate business from personal life. Besides,” he added, his eyes scanning me up and down, “he looks so much like me. It must have been comforting for you to have him around. In a way, I should be thanking him!” He then gestured grandly towards his luggage. “Since Dustin knows the layout, perhaps he could be a dear and move my things into your room? We’re getting married soon, after all. It’s about time we started living together properly!” He issued the order with a beaming smile, and Nora said nothing to object. I thought of all the times I had pleaded to move into the master bedroom with her. She had always refused, insisting that couples needed their own space. Only on nights when passion overtook her would she let me stay. If I ever accidentally left so much as a sock behind, her face would cloud over, and she’d lecture me about respecting boundaries. I had always thought it was just a part of her meticulous, self-disciplined nature. But the truth was, the role of the man of the house was never meant for me. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Nora. [Babe, it’s just a business arrangement with James, a sham marriage for the company. Don’t misunderstand.] I almost laughed. She was still treating me like a child. Fine. If she said her marriage was fake, then it was fake. As long as mine was real. I headed towards the guest room to finish packing, but James beat me to it. “Dustin, Nora is quite attached to me, so it wouldn’t be appropriate for you to stay here any longer. You should probably find your own place soon…” He trailed off as he entered the room. “Oh, you’re already halfway packed? And your style… it’s just like mine! What a coincidence!” A chilling coldness crept through me. Buying me clothes and watches had always been Nora’s favorite way of showing affection. I once believed it was proof of her love. Now, looking at the room full of clothes and accessories that never quite suited me, I saw how perfectly they would fit James. It was I who had been the impostor all along. I didn’t have the energy to confront her. But as I turned to leave, Nora grabbed my arm, her face hardening. “Why are you packing? Did something happen? Talk to me!” I looked away, unable to meet her gaze. Just then, I saw James reach for the music box on my nightstand. “Don’t touch that!” I yelled. With a sickening crash, the music box shattered on the floor, its delicate lid and tiny figurines of a prince and princess scattering like broken promises. “Oh… I’m so sorry, Dustin. I didn’t mean to…” James clutched his hand, a thin red line appearing on his palm. “Nora, my hand… it hurts…” Nora rushed to his side, examining the scratch as if it were a mortal wound. The next second, she whirled on me, her face a mask of fury. She stomped on the remains of the music box, grinding the delicate pieces under her heel. “It’s just a stupid trinket!” she spat, her eyes burning with a terrifying rage. “Did you have to scare him like that, Dustin?!” “Get this trash out of here. I never want to see it in this house again!” With one final, vicious twist of her foot, she crushed what was left of the music box into dust. Then, supporting a whimpering James, she walked out without a backward glance. Tears splashed onto the wreckage. Shards of wood and metal bit into my fingers as I gathered the pieces, but I felt nothing. I was sixteen when my parents’ marriage fell apart. Lost and alone, I’d gone to my best friend Leo’s house, hoping to find him. He wasn’t there, but his older sister, Nora, had just returned from a shopping trip. “Hey, kid,” she’d said gently, noticing my tears. “You’re Leo’s friend, aren’t you? What’s wrong? You can tell me.” I tried to leave, too embarrassed to speak, but she held me back. She shooed away her own friends and told me to wait. Then she ran out into the pouring rain and came back with an armful of cakes and pastries from the best bakery in town. She ruffled my hair and, with a conspiratorial whisper, produced a beautiful music box. As its gentle melody filled the air, the tiny prince and princess on top began to twirl. “Don’t be scared, kid,” she’d said, her voice a warm blanket. “No matter what anyone else does, this big sister, right here? I’ll protect you for the rest of your life. I swear it on this music box.” Her simple, earnest promise had captured my heart in that moment of utter despair. I had loved Eleonora Chan for ten years, from that day to this. I still remembered her vow, every word of it. But the woman who made it had long since forgotten. I cradled the handful of sharp memories for a moment longer, then tossed them into the trash. The vow, and Nora herself—I was done with them both.

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Our honeymoon abroad was shattered by a violent uprising. To give his precious Bianca a better chance to escape, my new husband shoved me out of the car. I spent the next week in a war-torn hell, a living nightmare. On the brink of collapse, it was my childhood friend who descended like an angel and saved me. He helped me heal, he proposed, and when he learned I was pregnant, he was ecstatic. But at the peak of my happiness, I overheard him talking to my ex-husband. “Grace’s pregnant now,” he said. “Once the baby is born, we can use the cord blood to save Bianca.” My ex asked him, “Was it worth it? Marrying and having a child with a woman you don’t love, all for Bianca?” My friend gave a bitter smile. “You were willing to risk your life for her. I’m willing to sacrifice my own.” “As long as Bianca can be healthy and happy, I’d do anything.” And just like that, I understood. This beautiful, happy marriage was a lie from the very beginning. Both of my husbands, the men I had given my heart to, had only ever loved one woman: Bianca. If that was the case, there was no reason for me to cling to a loveless marriage. But why, after I left, did the man who swore he never loved me descend into madness, crying out my name? 1 Clutching the positive pregnancy report, I couldn’t wait to share the wonderful news with John. But outside a VIP hospital room, I saw something that stopped my world. My ex-husband and my current husband were both gathered around a hospital bed, fussing over Bianca. John, a man I’d always known to be cool and reserved, was looking at Bianca with a tenderness so profound it was practically liquid. “Bianca, don’t worry,” he said softly. “I’ve already arranged for the best medical team. As soon as the baby is born, we’ll do the surgery.” “But… will Grace agree?” Bianca’s voice was frail. “What happened before hurt her so much. I’m afraid if something else goes wrong, she might…” “You’re too kind, Bianca,” John murmured, gently stroking her hair. “You don’t need to worry about her feelings. If it weren’t for you, she never would have experienced my love in the first place. She should be grateful to you.” Inside the room, a picture of tranquil devotion. Outside, I was drowning in my own tears. My mind flashed back to the day my ex-husband, Damien, abandoned me. In a foreign country ripped apart by war, at my most desperate and helpless moment, it was John who had walked against the tide of fleeing people, who had held me tight amidst the thunder of artillery. “Don’t be afraid,” he had whispered, his eyes full of a deep, sincere emotion. “I’m here.” “To the ends of the earth, from this day to our last, as long as I’m alive, I will protect you with my life.” In that moment, I had naively believed I’d found true love. I saw John as my salvation. Who could have known he was the one who would truly push me into the abyss? Saving me, marrying me, having a child with me—it was all for his beloved Bianca. The stream of tears washed away the last vestiges of affection I had for John. I turned, found a doctor, and said, my voice hollow, “Please schedule an abortion for me. I want to terminate this pregnancy.” The doctor stared at me, shocked. “Are you sure? When your husband heard you were pregnant, his eyes were red with joy. If he finds out…” “He is not my husband,” I cut her off. He’s a liar who has ruined my life. The doctor sighed and said no more. After the procedure, I sat in the hallway, my face a ghostly white. John came rushing over, a box of fruit in his hands. “Grace, sorry to keep you waiting. I went to get you your favorite cherries. How did the check-up go? Is the baby okay?” He looked at me with such genuine concern. A bitter smile touched my lips. I had seen that same box of cherries in Bianca’s room. This “special gift” was just her leftovers. As for the baby… he was fine. He would be reborn into a family that would truly love him, not brought into a world of lies and deceit. Lost in thought, I barely noticed when John took my hand and gently rested his head against my stomach. “Grace, you have no idea how happy I am. I swear, after the baby is born, I will spend the rest of my life making you both happy.” Was this ‘happiness’ born from love, or from the guilt and compensation of a man who knew he’d done wrong? I didn’t know what to say. Claiming I was tired, I gently pushed him away. As soon as we got home, John received a text and rushed out the door. I went to his study. The bookshelves, his computer—everything was filled with research on leukemia treatments. This man, so proud his entire life, had humbled himself, begging and pleading for the sake of a sick Bianca. The safe didn’t hold company secrets. It held a notebook, detailing all of Bianca’s preferences. “Bianca has a sensitive stomach. Low-oil, low-salt meals. No spice.” “Bianca loves roses. The rose manor outside the city will be finished by the end of the year. I hope she’ll be happy when she sees it.” “Sweets improve her mood. She studied in France, so French pastries should suit her palate.” He had spent a fortune on jewels for her, built a fairytale manor for her. Every word was a testament to his deep, abiding love for Bianca. There was not a single mention of me, his wife, his childhood friend. The love I had prided myself on was not worth a fraction of what Bianca received. After a moment, my tears flowing freely, I dialed a number. “Hello, I’d like to arrange a faked death service.” “Three days from now. A car accident. One car, two bodies.” 2 After finalizing the details, I sent them the video I had secretly recorded at the hospital, instructing them to release it after my “death.” Then I printed a copy of the divorce papers and waited for John to come home. He didn’t return. By noon the next day, he was still gone. I was about to call him when I saw his face on the television. “John Cross, CEO of Cross Industries, kneels up 9,999 steps to the grand temple, praying for the safety of his beloved.” In the video, John’s knees were raw and bloody, but he ignored everyone’s pleas to stop, bowing his head with every agonizing step, his face a mask of pious determination. He told the reporter interviewing him, his voice thick with emotion, “As long as the one I love is safe, I would give up everything I have.” The interview went viral. Messages started pouring in. “Oh my God, Grace! He’s willing to do that for you when you’re just pregnant? Imagine how he’ll spoil you when the baby comes! I heard he invested tens of millions in the hospital just to ensure you have a safe delivery. He’s so devoted!” “I’m so jealous, Grace! You have a husband who loves you so much. You must be the happiest woman in the world.” Reading the messages, I felt a bitter, ironic twist in my gut. Once, I would have believed it. I would have thought I was the happiest woman in the world. But now, I knew the truth. This profound love belonged to Bianca. I was just a tragic prop in their grand, romantic drama. I cleared my message history and went to the hospital with the divorce papers. The moment John saw me, he became visibly agitated. He ignored the pain in his legs and rushed towards me. “Grace, what are you doing here? I’m so sorry, I must have worried you…” “Where’s the jade amulet?” John’s eyes flickered away. “I… I lost it. I’ve sent people to look for it. If they can’t find it, I’ll get you an even better gift.” How could he not find it? I had seen it hanging around Bianca’s neck when I passed her room earlier. I didn’t expose his lie. I handed him the last page of a document. “No need to wait. I’ve found a house I like. You can buy it for me.” “Of course!” he agreed, signing his name without a second thought. I frowned. “Aren’t you going to look at it? What if… what if it’s very expensive?” “As long as you like it, the price doesn’t matter.” His eyes were bright and sincere, without a trace of deception. I couldn’t help but marvel at it. To love someone so much that you would do anything for them. It was just a shame that the person being loved wasn’t me. I put the signed paper—the final page of our divorce agreement—in my bag and prepared to leave. But John, worried about me traveling alone while pregnant, insisted on taking me home. As we reached the hospital entrance, his assistant whispered something in his ear. John’s face changed dramatically. He grabbed my arm and pulled me in the opposite direction. 3 He pushed me into a room and forced me into a chair. “She’s O-negative! Take her blood!” Before I could react, a sharp needle pierced my skin. They drew six hundred milliliters of blood before they finally stopped. I was dizzy and weak, unable to stand. I heard a doctor say to John, “Don’t worry, sir. Miss Sterling will be fine.” Hearing this, John finally relaxed. He noticed me staring and offered a guilty explanation. “Grace, I’m doing this to build up good karma for our child. Even if it wasn’t Bianca in danger, we couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.” I was too sick to listen. I just nodded numbly. “I understand. It’s fine. You should stay and take care of her. I want to go home and rest.” “Don’t be silly. You’re my wife. Of course I’m staying with you.” John blew gently on the puncture mark on my arm, his face full of concern, and started to lead me home. On our way out, we ran into Bianca. “Grace, thank you for donating blood for me,” she said with a bright smile. “Let me treat everyone to dinner as a small token of my appreciation.” Before I could speak, John had eagerly agreed. At the restaurant, he ordered with practiced ease. He placed a glass of mango juice in front of me. “Bianca doesn’t like this. You have it. It’s good for the baby.” I smiled, a sad, weary thing. He remembered all of Bianca’s preferences but had forgotten my severe allergy to mangoes. Love and the lack of it are hidden in the details. It was painfully true. While John was in the restroom, Bianca casually revealed the jade amulet from under her collar, a smirk on her face. “Grace,” she said, her voice a saccharine whisper, “they say a woman who gets fooled once is a fool. What do you call a woman who gets fooled twice?” “Whatever it is, it has nothing to do with you.” I had no interest in her provocations. But she suddenly ripped the amulet from her neck, smashed it on the floor, and then slapped herself hard across the face, twice. “John!” she shrieked as he returned, “Grace still won’t forgive me! She said I was trying to seduce you and threatened to scratch my face!” She threw herself into his arms, sobbing. Seeing the red marks on her cheeks, John didn’t hesitate. He shoved me, sending me sprawling to the floor. “Grace! How can you be so vicious? How could you attack a sick person like that?!” The ringing in my head, the pain in my body—it all came rushing back, dragging me back to that week in hell. The foreign streets, the constant explosions. I was a leaf in a storm, tossed between life and death. And the man who had pulled me from that inferno, the man who had promised to love me for a lifetime, had now, for Bianca, used that same hand to push me into an even deeper abyss. The pain of the past and present collided. I began to tremble uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. John, snapping back to his senses, was startled by my state. He started to stammer an explanation. “Grace, don’t cry, I didn’t mean it. I just… I lost my temper…” Beside him, Bianca’s eyes also reddened. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t be here, getting in your way. Grace, I’m married now. I know I did things that hurt you in the past, but now I just want to live a quiet life with my husband.” “Since you hate me so much, I’ll just disappear from your life forever!” With that, she ran directly into the bustling street. John looked at me, his face a mask of conflict. After a brief hesitation, he chased after her. I swallowed my heartbreak and wiped my tears. Ignoring the strange looks from the people around me, I got up and left. On the way home, I received a text from John. “Grace, don’t be angry. Bianca is an important client. I only gave her the amulet to secure our future partnership.” “I didn’t mean to push you. I just saw things wrong. Bianca’s not well. Please, don’t hold it against a sick person. I’ll make it up to you when I get home.” Pathetic excuses. A dismissive attitude. It was all I needed to know that he didn’t care about the pain he had caused me. He was so sure of my love for him, so confident that I would believe anything he said. But how can a dead heart love again? Damien’s betrayal had tortured my body and soul. John’s lies had killed my heart completely. At this point, I didn’t even have the strength to cry. I stared out the window at the fleeting scenery, a single thought in my mind. John, I hope when you see my ‘body’ tomorrow, you can be just as indifferent as you are right now.

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1 At our New Year’s Eve dinner, the mood was heavy, the faces around the table grim. Confused, I shot a questioning look at my husband, Michael, who sat beside me. He looked like he wanted to say something but just shook his head. I shrugged it off and placed a piece of fish, my daughter’s favorite, onto her plate. Just then, a line of text materialized in the air before me. “The supporting character’s mother is so good to her. Too bad her father is about to make her donate bone marrow to the female lead.” Supporting character? Female lead? What on earth is this? I paid it no mind and continued eating. But my husband’s next words made me realize those floating sentences were something I couldn’t ignore. … “Honey, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Michael said, his voice suddenly grave. I was busy cracking open a crab claw. “What is it? Go on.” Before he could speak, my sister-in-law, Clara, burst into tears. I quickly put down my crab and rushed to comfort her. “Clara, don’t be so upset. Isn’t Bella’s condition improving?” “The doctor said she could be discharged in a few days. Then…” My words were cut short by my husband’s sharp command. “That’s enough, Amelia!” His shout stunned me. I had no idea what I’d said wrong. Our daughter, Daisy, flinched, her chopsticks hovering mid-air. I soothed her, encouraging her to keep eating, before turning to glare at Michael. “What is wrong with you? It’s New Year’s Eve!” “What’s wrong with me?” he shot back, his face a thundercloud. My mother-in-law stepped in to smooth things over. “Alright, alright, let’s just eat.” I ignored my husband’s bizarre behavior and returned to my meal. I sympathized with Clara—her daughter was sick, after all. I’d let her spend the entire day at the hospital while I single-handedly prepared this feast. I wasn’t about to let my hard work go to waste. “Stop eating. I need to talk to you,” Michael said again, trying to stop me. I didn’t put down my chopsticks, just nodded. “I’m listening.” “Bella’s condition has worsened. She needs a bone marrow transplant.” His words hit me like a physical blow. The text from before flashed in my mind. Was this a coincidence? Before I could process it, more words appeared. “Here we go. The scumbag is bringing it up now!” “Shameless. Forcing his own daughter to donate marrow to his niece. He doesn’t care about his daughter at all.” “Yeah, even though the female lead, Bella, gets saved and becomes super successful, I still feel so bad for the supporting character, Daisy. She gets sick from the donation and dies young.” Reading the lines, the situation began to click into place. The “female lead” was my niece, Bella. The “supporting character” was my daughter, Daisy. My daughter would die because she donated bone marrow to Bella, who would then go on to live a life of success and glory. I forced myself to remain calm, looking from Michael to the still-sobbing Clara. I sighed. “Clara, they’ll find a volunteer to save Bella. Don’t be so heartbroken.” At my words, Clara’s crying abruptly stopped. She glanced at Michael. My mother-in-law shot him a look, a clear signal. As if emboldened, Michael declared, “Amelia, I want Daisy to donate her bone marrow to Bella.” “Absolutely not!” I refused without a moment’s hesitation. I stood up and swept the dishes off the table. If I cooked this meal, then no one else was going to eat it. “The supporting character’s mom is a badass!” “If it were me, I wouldn’t let my daughter donate either!” “Exactly! Donating bone marrow is so damaging. I can’t believe this father cares more about his sister’s child than his own.” The dinner ended in chaos. Michael disappeared, and I didn’t bother asking where he went. He could do whatever he wanted, as long as he stayed away from my daughter. I was on high alert now, constantly watching him, terrified he would do something to Daisy. On New Year’s Day, as I was getting Daisy ready to visit my parents, Michael called. “Amelia, Bella is fading fast. She needs the transplant now.” I moved away from Daisy, hissing into the phone, “What does Bella’s transplant have to do with my daughter?!” The familiar text appeared again. “The supporting character’s mom has no idea her husband already took their daughter for a compatibility test.” “Yeah, so tragic. So many people were tested, but only she was a perfect match.” “Well, what can you do? The supporting character only exists to save the female lead.” A chill went down my spine. “Michael,” I growled, my voice trembling with rage, “when did you take Daisy for a compatibility test?” “I went and got tested myself! I gave my blood! Why would you drag a ten-year-old child into this?” The line went silent. He was clearly shocked that I knew. Before he could answer, I cut him off. “If you want to take my daughter’s bone marrow, you’ll have to do it over my dead body!” 2 I slammed the phone down and immediately started packing Daisy’s clothes. I was terrified Michael would try to take her, so I decided we would stay at my parents’ house for a while. Daisy watched me silently, her sweet face devoid of questions. The roads were empty due to the holiday, and a two-hour drive took only ninety minutes. The moment we pulled up to my parents’ villa, they rushed out to greet us. “Daisy’s here! Come see what Grandma got you for New Year’s!” my mother exclaimed, whisking Daisy inside. My father took my bag. “Amelia, why didn’t Michael come with you?” His question sent a pang of sadness through me, but I didn’t want them to worry. I lied. “He had a last-minute thing at work. He’ll probably come in a few days.” With my parents doting on Daisy, the knot of tension in my shoulders finally began to loosen. After lunch, I went to take a nap. I woke up at dusk, groggy and disoriented. The first thing I saw was the familiar, shimmering text. “The supporting character’s dad is so cruel. He actually took her to the hospital to force the donation.” “Yeah, poor girl. Her own father doesn’t love her at all.” “Even though I’m a fan of the female lead, Bella, I can’t help but feel sorry for the supporting character…” I shot upright, instantly awake, and ran out to find Daisy. Only my parents were in the living room, watching a replay of the New Year’s Gala. “Amelia, you’re awake,” my dad said with a smile. “Michael came by this afternoon. He took Daisy to the amusement park.” “He even went to your room to tell you, but you were sleeping so soundly you didn’t even stir.” “She wasn’t just sleeping. The supporting character’s dad injected her with a sedative.” “I can’t believe how heartless he is.” Reading the text, I quickly pushed up my sleeve. Sure enough, there was a tiny puncture mark on my arm. My blood ran cold. Michael had gone this far. When I reached the hospital, Daisy was already lying in a hospital bed. “Daisy!” I screamed, rushing to her side and checking her from head to toe. The nurse who had been watching her saw me and scurried out of the room. The moment Daisy saw me, she burst into tears. “Mommy, I’m scared!” “It’s okay, sweetie, it’s okay. Mommy’s here. No one is going to hurt you.” I pulled the IV needle from her arm, thanking my lucky stars for the nursing courses I’d taken years ago. Just as I finished changing her out of the hospital gown and was about to leave, Michael and Clara rushed in. “What do you think you’re doing?!” Michael roared. “Amelia, please, have a heart. Save my daughter,” Clara begged, dropping to her knees in front of me. “Bella can’t wait any longer. Please, I’m begging you. She’s already prepped for surgery, just waiting for the donation.” The commotion drew other families from the hallway. Seeing Clara weeping at my feet, they began to murmur their disapproval. “My God, how can that woman be so cruel? Someone’s life is on the line.” “It’s a child’s life! And a relative, no less. She’s so cold-blooded.” I fought to control my emotions and looked at Michael. “Go get the head physician.” Thinking I had given in, Michael eagerly fetched the doctor. “Doctor,” I asked, my voice tight with restraint, “is Daisy really a match?” The doctor’s face lit up. He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Bella is a very lucky girl. Once the transplant is done, her condition can be brought under control.” Michael saw me nod and rushed forward. “The doctor has explained everything. Stop making a scene!” “The surgery is already scheduled. Don’t cause any more delays.” I looked at this frantic, desperate man and felt like I was staring at a stranger. “I’ve already called the police.” The onlookers fell silent, their faces filled with confusion. Only the doctor and Michael’s family looked terrified. Just as I spoke, the police arrived. “I’m the one who called,” I said, pointing at the doctor. “I’m reporting this man for accepting a bribe and attempting to forcibly extract bone marrow from a ten-year-old child!” 3 A wave of shock went through the crowd. The judgmental glares turned to expressions of sympathy. “So it’s not her donating, it’s the little girl.” “What kind of family is this? Making a ten-year-old donate bone marrow? That’s a death sentence!” “Is that man the girl’s father? How could he do this to his own child?” Michael’s face darkened under the weight of their accusations. He looked at me with pure venom in his eyes. “What’s happening? The supporting character didn’t donate?” “What about my Bella? Her illness is so serious!” I read the text, my heart turning to ice. So only the female lead’s life matters? My daughter’s life is worthless? After leaving the police station, I couldn’t hold back any longer. I walked up to Michael and slapped him across the face. “Divorce,” I said, the word hanging in the cold air. Then I took Daisy’s hand and walked away. In the car, Daisy’s small, sad voice piped up. “Mommy, why doesn’t Daddy love me?” My heart ached for her. When she was five or six, she’d asked me the same thing, wondering why her father always seemed to prefer Bella. She had asked if she wasn’t his real daughter. Back then, I had held her tight and made a thousand excuses for Michael. Not this time. At a red light, I turned to look at my daughter in the back seat. “Daisy, sweetie, Bella is sick, so Daddy is giving her more attention.” “But this time, we’re going to leave him, okay?” Daisy nodded. “Daddy doesn’t love Daisy, so Daisy doesn’t love Daddy anymore.” When we got home, my parents were heartbroken to see the tear stains on Daisy’s face. “Mom, Dad. I’m divorcing Michael.” To my surprise, my father immediately objected. “No!” “Your life is so good right now. You haven’t been fighting. Why the sudden divorce?” “Michael just got a promotion last year. Things are only going to get better for you two.” I cut him off before he could continue and told them everything Michael had done. Their faces changed instantly. “That monster! How could he hurt our Daisy like that?” “Divorce him! Immediately! A man like that doesn’t deserve to be our Daisy’s father!” But then, the familiar text floated before my eyes again. “The supporting character’s dad won’t agree to a divorce. He needs all their money to treat the female lead.” “I wish I had an uncle who loved me that much.” “Yeah, even the female lead’s own father gave up on her, but her uncle is still trying so hard to save her. It’s so touching!” I felt nothing reading those words. Michael could use his money to save whomever he wanted after the divorce. But I found it strange. Why had Bella’s own father given up on treating her? I realized I hadn’t seen him at all recently, not even at the New Year’s Eve dinner. Normally, he and Clara would have eaten at my mother-in-law’s before going home. What had changed this year? Despite my confusion, I contacted a lawyer and had the divorce papers sent to Michael. It wasn’t long before he called. “Amelia, I never knew you could be so vicious!” he roared. “Bella is critically ill, and not only do you refuse to let Daisy help, but you want to divorce me?!” I feigned ignorance. “I’m divorcing you because I don’t want Daisy to have a father who doesn’t care if she lives or dies.” I heard him take a deep breath on the other end. “No matter what, I will not agree to a divorce!” he shouted. I calmly tried to reason with him. “Michael, your career is taking off. Divorcing me is actually a good thing for you.” There had always been a huge income disparity between us, a fact he frequently resented me for. If the text was wrong, then divorcing me now would be a blessing for him. But Michael refused to sign the papers. And then I got a call from a real estate agent. She said my husband had listed our house for sale and a buyer wanted to see it. Was I available?

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The day we were supposed to get married, Perry Vance jilted me at the altar. A shocked murmur rippled through the guests. One of his friends let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Damn, Perry. Only a Vance could be that ruthless. You win the bet, man. I’ll pay up.” Perry shot a lazy glance in my direction, his voice a study in casual indifference. “If she hadn’t kept threatening to kill herself, I wouldn’t have even bothered with this ridiculous wedding.” I stood frozen on the stage, the pristine white of my dress concealing the river of blood already flowing down my legs. The System’s cold, mechanical voice echoed in my mind. 「Mission failed. Male lead has refused to marry. Host termination sequence initiated. Three… two…」 1 A sticky warmth pooled between my legs; I could feel my life draining out of me with every drop. I bit down on my pale lip, the mocking laughter from the crowd washing over me like a toxic tide, battering my fragile sanity. After a few seconds of stunned silence, I forced back the tears, looking at him with disbelief. “Why? You promised… you promised you’d make me the happiest woman in the world. If I don’t marry you, I’ll actually die.” God knows, saying those words felt like my heart was being torn from my chest. He was the one who had stayed up for three nights straight designing every detail of this wedding. I couldn’t believe it was all just a joke. But Perry only spared me a fleeting glance, his reply light as air. “It’s exhausting, you know? The constant drama. Are you always like this?” he drawled. “We’re all adults here. If you take things so seriously, how is anyone supposed to have any fun?” His lazy tone hit me like a bolt of lightning, shattering the last of my composure. “Perry…” Before I could finish, his friends erupted in derisive laughter, their eyes dripping with contempt. “Haha, don’t you get it? Perry’s been in love with someone else for years—Bianca Sterling. You think a nobody like you could ever compare?” “You were just a bet, sweetheart. We didn’t think someone who acts so high-and-mighty would be so easy to fool.” Their words were knives, twisting in my gut. I started to tremble uncontrollably. Perry frowned but offered no explanation. I clenched my fists, a bitter, self-mocking smile touching my lips. I’d gotten into a car accident in the real world. While I was in a coma, I was inexplicably pulled into this one, forced to complete a “mission”: make Perry Vance fall in love with me. If he married me, I could return to my own world and live. If I failed, I would be punished by bleeding to death. I thought my months of devotion had finally won him over. I never imagined I was the punchline. But somewhere along the way, in this calculated game of seduction, I had truly fallen for him. A sharp cramp seized my abdomen, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My heart felt like it was being shredded, but the pain was everywhere and nowhere at once, as if a saw was tearing my body apart. The warm liquid gushed faster now, trickling down my legs and staining the inside of my gown, slowly stealing the heat from my body. Suddenly, Perry shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and strode off the stage. 「Host’s life force is rapidly depleting!」 the System’s panicked voice screamed in my head. 「There’s still time! You have to stop him!」 The warning jolted me from my stupor. Ignoring the searing pain, I stumbled after him, my small steps leaving a shocking trail of bloody footprints that no one seemed to notice. “Perry, are you really leaving me?” My voice was thick with unshed tears. Even now, a part of me couldn’t believe that the man who had been so protective, so tender, could abandon me like this. He acted as if he hadn’t heard me. His gaze was fixed, burning with an intensity I’d never seen before, on a delicate figure standing at the entrance of the ballroom. He paused, and then a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. “You finally came,” he said, his voice soft. “I knew you wouldn’t let me marry another woman.” I froze. In that instant, my heart didn’t just break. It shattered. He had orchestrated this entire grand, beautiful wedding for one reason: to make his true love jealous. 2 I watched them embrace as if no one else existed. The guests, my wedding guests, erupted in cheers for them. The pain was a physical thing, a blade twisting in my chest as despair washed over me. Just then, a hotel waitress approached, nervously holding a velvet box with a pair of custom-made rings. “Miss Williams,” she began, her eyes full of pity, “Mr. Vance had these specially made for you.” My gaze fell to the rings, and I shook my head with a bitter laugh. “There must be a mistake. We didn’t order any custom rings.” Besides, a single glance told me they weren’t my size. The hotel did offer a ring customization service. I had begged Perry to get a matching pair with me, but he’d refused, claiming he was allergic to metal. At that moment, the two of them broke their embrace. Perry turned, calmly took the ring box from the waitress, and didn’t spare me a single glance. He walked back to Bianca, dropped to one knee, and slid the ring onto her finger. “Bianca,” he said, his voice ringing with emotion, “I had this made just for you. Will you marry me?” Bianca looked down at the ring, a shy, pleased smile on her face, but she didn’t answer immediately. “Say yes!” someone shouted from the crowd. The chant grew, a wave of voices engulfing the hall. “Say yes! Say yes!” And there I stood, on the edge of the crowd, a ghost in a wedding dress, completely out of place at my own wedding, where my groom was proposing to another woman. Their cheers were like spikes, driving deeper and deeper into my heart. The crowd parted. Bianca, radiant in a simple white dress, walked towards me on Perry’s arm. She moved with an effortless grace I could never hope to imitate. “Miss Williams,” she said, her voice soft and melodious, “on Perry’s behalf, I do apologize. I never imagined he would use such a drastic method to get me to see him.” “We’ve discussed it, and we’d like to offer you financial compensation. Please, don’t refuse.” She held out a check. For five million dollars. Her tone was gentle, but her words were a raw, public humiliation. “Wow, five million just like that. She’s set for life.” “You don’t get it. Some girls look all innocent, but they’re masterminds.” “I heard she chased after Perry relentlessly.” The whispers were the final straw. Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the crimson drops on the floor. I couldn’t stand anymore. I clutched my chest, my vision blurring as the pain threatened to swallow me whole. “Was this your idea?” I managed to ask, my voice a raw, broken rasp, looking up at him. Don’t people like them understand that a human heart has value? Perry’s gaze flickered to my ashen face, his lips parting as if to speak, but he said nothing. The crowd’s murmurs had turned into outright hostility. They were shouting at me, the “homewrecker,” to get out. They were sycophants, eager to curry favor with the powerful. To please Bianca, some of them even started to push me. I was shoved back and forth until my head slammed against the wall with a dull thud. I sagged, using the wall to stay upright, my face contorted in agony. “Stop it!” Perry roared. His eyes locked onto my colorless face. “Are you alright?” At his side, Bianca’s brow furrowed. She shot me a venomous glare and tugged on his sleeve. It was as if her touch broke a spell. Perry forced his gaze away from me. “Go wait outside,” he said, not looking at me. “I’ll take you home later.” That flicker of concern, however fleeting, was enough to give me a sliver of strength. The fog of pain receded slightly. I glanced at his unreadable expression, then turned and stumbled out of the hall. “Miss Williams!” The waitress who had brought the rings was the first to see the bloody trail I’d left behind. She screamed. I looked back at her and shook my head, a helpless, bitter smile on my face. The blood was real, but there were no visible wounds. If Perry found out now, he would just accuse me of faking it. I couldn’t bear another ounce of humiliation. For the first time, I disobeyed him. I left on my own. I went back to my apartment, lay down on my bed, and quietly waited to die. When I opened my eyes again, it had been two days. To my surprise, I was still alive. My body was incredibly weak, but the bleeding had stopped. I immediately summoned the System. 「Unknown,」 it replied, its mechanical voice tinged with confusion. 「Mission failure was confirmed. By all logic, you should have expired on the wedding night. However, the Host’s life force has stabilized at 0.1 percent and is no longer declining.」 We concluded it must be a bug in the system. Not knowing when I might suddenly drop dead, I dragged myself to my office to resign. The moment I walked in, I was met with a wall of thinly veiled contempt. “I thought she said she’d die. Looks like she’s doing just fine to me.” “Pathetic. Trying to threaten Perry Vance with death.” A lump formed in my throat. I finished my handover in a daze and fled the building. When I got back to my apartment, I found a tall, familiar figure waiting at my door. 3 The second he saw me, his expression turned to ice. He lunged forward, his fingers clamping around my wrist like a vice. “Why didn’t you wait for me that night?” he roared, his voice so loud it made my ears ring. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? I found a pool of blood at the venue. I’ve been looking for you like a madman!” “I thought… I thought you…” As he got closer, I saw that his eyes were bloodshot, filled with a raw, undeniable worry. I stared at him, my heart pounding. A wild, impossible thought began to bloom in the back of my mind. “You…?” I whispered. In an instant, the storm of emotion in his eyes vanished, replaced by his usual cold composure. He looked me up and down, then released my wrist with a sneer. “Weren’t you supposed to be dead if we didn’t get married?” I rubbed my bruised wrist, my gaze darkening with self-pity. “I didn’t know you were looking for me. My phone died.” “Sorry to disappoint you by not dying,” I added, a sharp, bitter edge to my voice. He flinched, as if I’d struck him. A complex mix of emotions warred on his face. “That’s not what I meant.” 「System detects male lead is showing concern for Host!」 the System chirped excitedly in my head. 「Try again! Push him!」 A flicker of hope ignited within me. I decided to try. “Perry,” I said, my voice trembling with desperate hope, “I wasn’t lying. I really am dying.” “Can we please… can we have another wedding? Even if it’s just for show. I promise I’ll disappear from your life forever after.” The System had never said we had to be a real husband and wife. I was looking for a loophole, begging for just the ceremony. “Alright.” He only hesitated for a second before agreeing. I was stunned. This time, we planned a simple ceremony at a chapel, with no guests. But I waited from morning until the dead of night, and Perry never showed. He didn’t answer his phone. I sat alone on the chapel steps in my wedding dress, staring up at the stars as silent tears traced paths down my cheeks. I couldn’t understand. If it was all just a bet, he never had to go that far. When I was sick, he had abandoned a billion-dollar project and flown for twenty hours on the first international flight just to see me. When he fed me, he’d always cup his hand under my chin to catch any spills, despite his obsession with cleanliness. I wiped my tears and unlocked my phone to try calling him again. That’s when a headline caught my eye: “City’s Top Heir, Perry Vance, Engaged to Bianca Sterling.” My hand trembled as I clicked on the link. My world imploded. He and Bianca had gotten engaged. Today. He had promised me… A familiar, searing pain ripped through my body as the bleeding started again, more violently this time. I curled into a ball on the cold stone, feeling my life ebb away. A tidal wave of resentment and hatred surged through me, wild and uncontrollable. The System’s voice echoed, filled with something like regret. 「Male lead is now engaged to another. Host termination sequence will commence. Three… two…」 “Wait,” I begged. “Can you… can you let me die in front of him?” 4 The System paused. 「I have set a new program for you to die in the male lead’s presence. However, due to the alteration of game rules, the system is now unstable. I cannot predict the exact time of your death.」 I nodded. As long as I could die in front of him, it didn’t matter when. My wedding dress was soaked in blood. I walked, step by agonizing step, to the hotel where they held their engagement party. I arrived just as they were leaving. “What are you doing here dressed like that?” Perry hissed, rushing towards me. “Get out of here before Bianca sees you.” “And don’t try that ‘I’m dying’ trick again. I’m busy tonight. Go home.” He glanced at my blood-soaked dress, his eyes filled with disgust. He thought it was all an act. A bitter taste filled my mouth. I looked past him and saw Bianca’s pale, drawn face. She looked like she was recovering from a serious illness. A team of medical staff followed her. But I didn’t have the energy to care about anyone else’s problems. I fixed my gaze on his annoyed face. “Why didn’t you come?” I asked, my voice hollow. He heard Bianca’s footsteps approaching and his impatience grew, his expression darkening. “Are you a child?” he snapped. “What kind of nonsense is ‘I’ll die if we don’t get married’?” “Do you look like you’re dying? I felt guilty, that’s the only reason I agreed to indulge you. Something important came up today. Couldn’t it wait?” By then, Bianca had reached us. Perry’s expression softened instantly as he gently took her arm. “Why did you come out? I was just about to clear things up with her,” he chided softly. Seeing his tender care for her, I finally understood. His affection for me had never been unique. Bianca glanced at my attire, a smirk playing on her lips. “I was just worried you’d be too harsh and scare the poor girl,” she said, her smile not reaching her eyes. “She’s not from our world. One’s pride can be so fragile.” “Miss Williams, that check was terribly crass of us. My apologies. Please, think about what you’d like as proper compensation and contact my assistant.” She pressed a business card into my hand, her voice devoid of any real sincerity. I crumpled the card in my fist, then let it flutter to the ground, a perfect mirror of my shattered heart. I had given him my soul, and he had crushed it and handed it back to me. A flicker of pity crossed Perry’s face, but it was gone in a flash. They said nothing more and got into their car. As I watched them drive away, a pain so intense it felt like my heart was being ripped from my chest radiated through my body. I couldn’t stand. It was an agony that invaded every cell, threatening to tear me in two. I panicked, calling out to the System in my mind. 「Host, changing the game rules has a series of unknown consequences. The corresponding punishments are multiplied.」 I regretted it. My desire to make him feel remorse had only brought all the suffering back onto me. It wasn’t worth it. “She’s bleeding! Oh my God, she’s bleeding everywhere!” someone screamed. The cry was piercingly loud in the quiet night. My consciousness was fading, my vision blurring. I heard the screech of tires. A car door flew open. I heard Bianca’s frantic, angry shout. “Perry, come back! Where are you going?” The sound of urgent footsteps grew closer, ignoring her cries. The last thing I saw was Perry’s face, twisted in a mask of pure, unadulterated horror.

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On the eve of my coronation, my mother erased me from the royal bloodline, declaring Rose—my lowly scullery maid—the true heir of Beaumont. My once-doting father met me with contempt: “How could I share blood with a slave’s spawn?” At the palace gates, my childhood love, the king, turned me away—only to welcome Rose moments later, his voice dripping with affection: “Nothing stops you from being my queen now.” To ensure Rose’s unblemished debut, Mother ordered the guards to break my legs and discard me like trash. As I lay dying in the storm, fever ravaging my broken body, the face in the rain puddle stared back—undeniable proof of my mother’s features. Then I awoke—reborn on the day of my disownment. I woke to the day it all went wrong. Caskets of jewels and silks, gifts from the palace, were being carried into the Beaumont estate like a river of treasure. Yet, as I stood there, a chill that had nothing to do with the morning air settled deep in my bones. I felt as if I’d been struck by lightning, unable to muster even a flicker of joy. The maids in the courtyard buzzed around the lavish gifts, their chatter a meaningless drone. My eyes, however, found her instantly. Rose. Huddled in a corner with a broom, she didn’t join the others. She just swept silently, her gaze darting towards the treasure, a poison of envy and resentment clouding her eyes. A girl like Rose, a mere drudge, was someone even my personal handmaidens wouldn’t deign to speak to. And yet, this insignificant, overlooked girl… My legs trembled, a ghost of that agony, sharp as shattered bone, shooting through me. Because I knew. This very evening, the mother who had cherished me would storm into my chambers with the elders of our house. Her face, usually a mask of serene grace, would be twisted with a venom I’d never seen. She would point a trembling finger at my face and scream: “Behold! The slave’s whelp who has stolen my daughter’s place for more than a decade!” “Honored elders! Today, I cleanse the name of House Beaumont!” In my memory, my mother wielded a thin, cruel cane, bringing it down on me again and again. The places it struck blossomed into ugly, purple bruises, a testament to her newfound cruelty. I had been raised like a delicate flower, sheltered from the slightest harm. Seeing this stranger who wore my mother’s face, I choked back the pain. “Mother! What are you saying? I am to be crowned tomorrow! How can I not be your daughter?” She paused at my words, and for a fleeting second, relief washed over me. I thought I could reason with her, understand this madness. But her eyes were chips of ice. She turned to the elders, her voice ringing with cold conviction. “You all see it! This pretender still dreams of a crown. If she were to succeed, she would bring shame not only upon our house, but upon the entire kingdom!” “Today, as the Duchess of Beaumont, I declare that Catherine is no longer a daughter of this house! Her name will be struck from our family records!” I was trapped in a vortex of gazes—pity, shock, scorn, and a sickening flicker of triumph from the servants. But what broke me was my mother’s eyes. The love that had once warmed me was gone, replaced by a raw, undisguised hatred. She spat the word “slave” at me, her noble bearing, her years of practiced grace, all forgotten. It was as if I was her most reviled enemy. How? How could the woman who had treasured me for sixteen years, who had held me as the jewel of her life, suddenly despise me? A sob tore from my throat, and I fell at her feet, trying to clutch at her gown as I had done so many times as a child seeking comfort. “Mother, I am your daughter… I am…” She recoiled, kicking me squarely in the chest. “Silence! You are the daughter of a slave!” Her gaze, now filled with a tearful, tender light, found Rose cowering in the corner. “The true lady of this house… forced to serve this impostor for sixteen years!” “Rose,” I whispered the name, the memory sharp as glass. The girl who was still just a cleaner, her face hidden behind a thick fringe of hair, stepped forward, trembling. “Yes, my lady? What do you require?” Though my courtyard was full of servants, I remembered her. She’d started in the kitchens, a small, clumsy girl, always bullied by the others. One day, she’d let a pot burn, nearly starting a fire, and the head cook had beaten her mercilessly. I’d taken pity on her—a girl my own age—and had her moved to the courtyard to do simple sweeping. I never imagined my act of kindness would be seen as an insult. That night, cradled in my mother’s arms, Rose had spoken in a pitiful whisper. “Me? Your daughter? A lady of the house? How can that be…? I’m just a cleaner here. Anyone can spit on me.” My mother’s heart had broken for her. “You are not a cleaner! You are the jewel of this house! From this day on, we’ll see who dares to harm you!” Watching the tender scene replay in my mind, I couldn’t help but speak my past words aloud in a bitter murmur. “If you were unhappy with your duties, you could have said something…” In the memory, my mother’s hand had cracked across my face. “Silence! How dare you, a slave’s child, speak to Rose like that? Do you still think you are a lady?” My cheek had swelled instantly. One of the elders, a man who had watched me grow, spoke with hesitation. “My lady Duchess, how can you be so certain? That Catherine is not your child?” “Because I have proof!” my mother had declared, her voice ringing with triumph. “My true daughter was born with a small, crescent-shaped birthmark on her temple.” She had swept aside Rose’s hair, and there it was, for all to see. A small, faint blue mark. The room was empty now, save for me and Rose. “My lady, I’m not assigned to your personal chambers…” she began, her voice meek. I cut her off. Closing the distance between us, I ripped the heavy fringe of hair from her forehead. There it was. The birthmark I didn’t have. Seeing her flinch and cower, I didn’t mince words. “You already know what’s going to happen today, don’t you?” A flicker of confusion—or perhaps, practiced innocence—crossed her face. “My lady? I… I don’t understand what you mean.” I didn’t miss the glint of something else beneath the fear. I leaned in, my voice a low, deliberate whisper. “Rose. Beaumont.” Her eyes darted away, but not before I saw it: a flash of triumph mixed with her feigned confusion. A cold smile touched my lips. “A rat from the gutter,” I murmured, my voice dripping with scorn. “You’ve certainly schemed hard to reach the palace floors, haven’t you?” Her mask shattered. Her face darkened, the meekness vanishing like smoke. “Catherine,” she sneered, “are you introducing yourself?” Just as I suspected. She knew everything. With her victory so close, she saw no more reason to pretend. She strode to the center of the room, to the magnificent gown displayed on a mannequin. The Queen’s Gown. It had taken a hundred weavers half a year to create, a breathtaking masterpiece of silk and gold thread. Rose caressed the exquisite fabric, her eyes burning with an ambition she no longer bothered to hide. “The title of Lady Beaumont is mine. And the throne of the Queen will be mine, too.” She turned to me, her face alight with petty victory. “This gown should be under royal guard until the coronation. Do you know why it’s here, in your room?” She leaned closer, her voice a triumphant hiss. “It’s because Arthur wanted me to see it first. A private viewing, for his true queen.” She had admitted it. She and King Arthur were already lovers. He knew what was coming today. He was in on it all. And the me of my past life had been blissfully, stupidly, waiting to marry him. I had walked straight into their trap, a lamb to the slaughter, and never suspected a thing. In the years of his ascension, every prince had vied for the support of House Beaumont. But only Arthur, being closest to my age, had gotten near me. He was the one who would ride for hours just to pick the first spring blossoms for me. The one who would recklessly scale the walls of our estate, all for a single glimpse. “To others, you are Lady Catherine Beaumont,” he would whisper, his breath warm against my ear. “But to me, you are just Catherine. It has nothing to do with titles or status. Even if you were a commoner, you would be the queen of my heart.” A young man’s promises. So earnest. So easy to believe. So easy to break. The moment I lost my title and my name, the very gates of the palace were barred to me. The boy who was my last hope for salvation simply turned his back. Then, he emerged from the gates to welcome Rose. “Rose, my love,” he’d said, his voice carrying on the wind. “Nothing can stop you from being my queen now.” From her sedan chair, Rose had shot me a look of pure, mocking triumph. “Did you really think he scaled those walls for you? He was climbing for the quiet maid who tended your gardens. He brought you all those flowers because he knew you’d share them with the staff, and that I would get one, too.” Her smile was a slash of red. “What good were your sixteen years as a duchess’s daughter? The truth is, Catherine, you never even stood a chance.” Listening to her taunts, seeing the guilt flicker in Arthur’s averted eyes, I finally understood the words his chamberlain had spoken to me just moments before, a gentle but firm refusal. “The late king decreed that the eldest daughter of House Beaumont would be the future queen. Even if His Majesty holds some affection for you, my lady, he cannot defy his father’s final command.” Arthur. His charming eyes, so full of practiced devotion, could make anyone feel like they were the center of his world. My gaze fell upon the wedding gown before me. With a swift, deliberate motion, I pulled a long, sharp pin from my hair. Rose gasped and scrambled back. “Are you mad?! If you dare to harm me…” The pin sliced through the priceless silk, a clean, vicious tear. I tossed it aside. “You’re new to this world, Rose,” I said, my voice dangerously calm as she stared in horror at the ruined gown. “You’ll learn that the more beautiful something is, the more easily it can be destroyed.” She rushed forward, cradling the torn fabric as if it were a dying bird. “Do you have any idea how precious this is? What am I supposed to wear tomorrow?!” I shoved her aside, snatching the gown back. “This is my gown. You needn’t worry about it.” Her eyes were daggers of pure hatred. “He doesn’t love you!” she shrieked. “And after today, you’ll be nothing but a slave’s daughter! You dare to still dream of being queen?” I raised an eyebrow and pushed open the doors to the antechamber, where my handmaidens were already gathered, drawn by the commotion. “What are you waiting for?” I commanded, my voice ringing with authority. “This woman has lost her mind. Drag her out.” My maids, loyal and unhesitating, seized a stunned Rose, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Fifty slaps to the face,” I added coolly. “Then lock her in the stables. Let her cool her head.” Rose, with a sudden burst of strength, bit down hard on a maid’s hand and screamed, “We’ll see how long your arrogance lasts!” Another maid immediately struck her across the face, and a rough cloth was stuffed into her mouth. I heard one of them mutter, “What was she thinking? A mere cleaner, insulting her lady.” I looked down at the struggling, muffled form of Rose on the floor. “I’d be quiet if I were you. Don’t tempt me to change my mind and have you dealt with right here, right now.” My voice dropped to a glacial whisper. “You wonder how long I can be arrogant? For now, I am the mistress, and you are the servant. Have sixteen years as a slave taught you nothing?” Fear warred with rage in her eyes, but before she could react, she was dragged away. Watching the sun begin its descent, I clutched the ruined gown. “Prepare the carriage,” I ordered. The Gilded Needle was the most renowned tailor in the capital. Its proprietor was a master artisan, sought after only by the highest echelons of nobility. But when I presented the gown and my request, he shook his head, his face etched with worry. “Lady Catherine, this gown is a masterpiece. You know the work that went into it. It is impossible to repair it in a single night.” “If you can’t, someone else can. I wish to see your master.” “You jest, my lady. My master knows nothing of needlework. How could he possibly fix this?” “Oh, he can fix it,” I said, my voice serene. “And if he can’t, he can replace it.” That night, in the pouring rain of my past life, someone had offered me a hand. But with my legs broken on my own mother’s orders, my spirit had already died. This time, I would not allow myself to be trampled into the dust. The sky was bleeding into shades of twilight when the door finally opened. The man who entered surveyed the room, his eyes finally landing on me. “Do you have any idea what you are doing?” he asked, his voice a low baritone. My gaze fell to the intricate chessboard he kept in the room. “Even the most flawless strategy has a weakness,” I replied, meeting his eyes. “And even if I must become a pawn in my own game, I will still win this wager against fate.” Returning from The Gilded Needle, I was met not by a storm, but a hurricane. My parents stood there, their faces contorted with rage, protectively cradling a weeping Rose, her cheeks swollen and red. The accusations were harsher this time, the curses more vile. One of the elders, the same man from my memory, spoke up. “My lady Duchess, how can you be so certain? That Catherine is not your child?” My mother’s voice was laced with venom. “When Rose was born, the labor was difficult. I never saw her face. That was when some treacherous soul saw their chance to switch the infants.” I seized on the flaw in her story. “If you never saw the newborn’s face, Mother, how can you be so sure your true daughter has a birthmark on her temple?” I expected hesitation, a moment of doubt. Instead, she strode forward and slapped me, hard, all remnants of our shared history incinerated in her fury. “It seems you won’t accept the truth until it’s shoved down your throat! Guards! Bring in the slave!” Her voice was a shriek. “Let’s reunite you with your wretched mother. Consider it my final act of charity after sixteen years of raising you.” Even though I had lived this before, the pain was a fresh wound. Tears welled in my eyes. Sixteen years. From a stumbling toddler to the most celebrated lady in the capital. Even if we shared no blood, had she not raised me? Did she not know the core of my being? My mother was frail, prone to terrible headaches every winter. It was I who sat by her bed through every snowfall, tending to her personally, never entrusting the task to a servant. How could she cast aside sixteen years of love and devotion so easily? A woman in rough-spun clothes, her body covered in bruises, was dragged before us. She screamed, her voice cracking with terror. “Stop hitting me! I confess! I did it! I switched my daughter for the Duchess’s baby! Rose is the true lady of the house! Please, stop… I’ll pay with my life! Is that not enough?!” Before anyone could react, the woman launched herself headfirst at a nearby stone pillar. A sickening crack. And then, silence. The key witness was dead. Case closed.

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My parents called to tell me they were heading to my childhood best friend’s house to meet his blind date. At that moment, my childhood best friend, Frank, was fast asleep beside me. I thought they were joking. “Frank,” I whispered, “they’re saying they found you a blind date.” He hummed, a lazy sound, and pulled me tighter into his embrace. “Alright, Hannah. Pick out an outfit for me in a bit, maybe do my hair.” When I didn’t move, he cracked open an eye and scoffed. “Hey, what’s wrong? We’re just bed buddies. You didn’t actually think I was going to marry you, did you?” I couldn’t process it. All I could do was move, a flurry of awkward motion. I couldn’t look at him. I pushed him away, scrambled to pick my clothes up off the floor, and pulled them on haphazardly. “Hannah, look at me.” Frank propped his chin on his arm, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You didn’t really think we were boyfriend and girlfriend, did you?” The phrase “bed buddies” echoed in my head. My hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t fasten the clasp on my bra. Frank threw back the covers, revealing the lean, sharp lines of his abdomen, and knelt on the edge of the bed. His hands moved with a familiar ease, fastening the hooks for me. I kept my head down. “Who’s the blind date?” I asked, my voice tight. I forced a bitter laugh. “Please don’t tell me your parents just grabbed some random person from a park bench.” I looked at myself in the mirror, at the constellation of red marks dotting my skin, my legs still aching from the night before. Frank, now wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants, came up behind me and buried his face in my neck. “It’s Angela.” He flickered those handsome, almond-shaped eyes at me. “You remember. The senior from the art department in college. Angela.” He added, a genuine note of excitement in his voice, “You know, the thought of seeing her again… I’m actually a little nervous.” My hand, holding a tube of lipstick, froze. Of course I remembered. Frank had a massive crush on her, but before he could confess, she had moved abroad. I thought that was all in the past. Frank watched me in the mirror, his lips pursed. “Hey, Hannah. Don’t go getting any funny ideas about me.” “We grew up in diapers together. I mean, yeah, you’re… beautiful, but I see you as a brother.” “You’re my best buddy—for food, for road trips, for… bed.” It felt like a physical blow. A chill spread through my body. I looked at his smiling face and could only manage a weak, trembling smile in return. He kept going. “Besides, I know you so well. I know what you’re going to wear every day, right down to the matching underwear set.” “It’s almost… boring.” “Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and see you sleeping next to me, and honestly? It scares me.” “It scares me that one day, maybe we’d end up like our parents joked, actually married. My whole life, just… mapped out from start to finish.” He shuddered, as if the very thought was terrifying. I dug my nails into my palm, fighting to keep the tears from falling. “I have to go.” I wrapped myself in my coat and fled like a coward. I thought Frank and I were in a relationship. We acted like any other couple. We ate together, went on dates, hung out with friends. During games of Truth or Dare, we would kiss each other deeply and say “I love you” without a second thought. Frank would pick me up from work every single rainy day. He would secretly hold my hand under the table at family dinners. I had no idea that what I thought was a six-month relationship was just a childish game to him. “Hannah?” My mom tapped on the car window, peering in with concern. I snapped back to reality. Seeing my tear-streaked face in the rearview mirror, I quickly wiped my eyes, called out a shaky response, and got out of the car. “Mom!” I threw my arms around her, burying my face in her shoulder to hide my expression. “I missed you,” I said with a laugh. My mom, holding a bag of groceries, took my arm, looking relieved. “Honey, why were you just sitting in the car? You scared me. Didn’t you see the news about people suffocating in their cars…?” I nodded along. Suddenly, her tone shifted. “By the way, Hannah, Frank’s blind date is coming over soon. Your Uncle and Aunt are taking this very seriously. I hear Frank planned this whole thing for a long time. He said he was worried the girl might feel awkward, and having you there would make her more comfortable.” “You know how close I am with his mom. So today, when we go…” She looked at me, her expression pained, trailing off. I forced a smile. “I know, Mom. Don’t worry. I’m great at breaking the ice, saying the right things. I get it.” My mom gave me a look filled with pity. Of course she knew. A photo of Frank and me sat on my nightstand. I treasured every gift he’d ever given me, not to mention the notebooks filled with a love I couldn’t hide. How could she not know? We walked home in silence. As we reached the door, I spoke up, my voice suddenly light. “Dad’s retiring next month. Let’s move to the coast.” I looked at my mother’s startled face and smiled playfully. “You two have always talked about retiring there. I don’t have any big dreams. I’d be happy just being a dance teacher, staying by your side.” Sitting in Frank’s house with my parents felt different this time. We were usually so boisterous, laughing and joking. The last time we were here, we had used a video game as an excuse to sneak into his room and kiss. This time… “Oh, Mary, you have no idea the lengths that boy of mine went to for this Angela,” Frank’s mom said to mine. “A direct pursuit would have been too simple for him. No, he had to insist on the pretense of ‘dating with the intention of marriage.’ He made his father pull all sorts of strings just to get her to show up today for a ‘blind date’.” I looked around the meticulously decorated house, filled with bouquets of roses. There were platters of fruit and sweets on the table. Even their little dog was wearing a bright red sweater. And Frank was standing in front of a mirror, checking his reflection over and over, making sure he was perfect. The irony was laughable. Just last night, we were tangled in the sheets, and he was kissing the small red mole on my waist with such passion. And the underwear he was wearing right now? I bought it for him. “It’s just such a shame…” Frank’s mom sighed, taking my mother’s hand. “We always said we’d be in-laws one day. We even had a childhood betrothal for the kids!” She glanced at me. “I truly adore Hannah. She’s not just beautiful, she’s got such a wonderful, bright personality…” I lowered my eyes, not daring to speak, terrified that a single wrong move would cause my tears to fall. “Mom!” Frank frowned, clearly displeased. “You said it yourself, that was your generation’s thing. You and Aunt Mary are close, why don’t you marry her? What’s it got to do with me?” “What century are we in? Stop bringing up that old-fashioned nonsense.” He showed no regard for his mother’s feelings. He then turned to me, his tone hard, as if I had put her up to it. “Hannah, where’s the bracelet my mom gave you?” When I didn’t respond, he strode over, grabbed my wrist, and pushed up my sleeve. “The one from the betrothal thing. I’m afraid Angela will see it and get upset…” The words hung in the air. My dad and his, who had been drinking tea, stopped. My mom, who was arranging flowers for him, stopped. In an instant, the atmosphere turned ugly. My mother stared at me, then slammed the vase and scissors down on the table with a clatter. She started to stand, but Frank’s mom quickly pulled her back. Frank’s mom stood up, placing herself firmly in front of me and giving Frank a hard shove. “Frank! What do you think you’re doing?” “Putting aside the fact that nothing is settled with this Angela… you were the one who got on your knees and begged Hannah to wear that bracelet when you were seventeen!” It was as if Frank’s soul finally returned to his body. He remembered. He remembered the year someone else confessed their feelings for me. Panicked, he’d gotten drunk, stolen the family heirloom bracelet, and showed up at my house in the middle of the night, crying, pleading, even kneeling, begging me to wear it. He tugged at his collar, took a deep breath, and then smiled at me. “I’m just a little on edge. You’re right, you don’t take back a gift. You should keep it.” “It’s fine. I’ll give it back to you. I’ll go home and get it now,” I interrupted, my voice calm. “I’ll be right back. I won’t be long.” Before anyone could react, I grabbed my bag and walked out. When I returned with the bracelet and was about to knock, a chorus of cheers stopped me— “Welcome…” Frank’s smile froze the moment he saw me. “What are you doing here?” He seemed shocked that I had come back, and even more shocked that I had actually brought the bracelet. When I held it out to him, his face was a mask of disbelief. Finally, he took it and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Hannah, for the sake of our… partnership, don’t cause any trouble today.” “Angela’s a sensitive girl. Don’t say anything to upset her.” I didn’t want to engage with him. Angela was a sensitive girl, and I wasn’t? I looked at the boy I had loved for my entire youth, and a bone-deep chill threatened to swallow me whole. Ten minutes later, Angela was escorted into the house by a family friend. The parents all chatted amiably. That was why my parents were here—to subtly lay out our family’s background and future prospects for the go-between. Throughout it all, Frank sat beside Angela, his every gesture radiating care. He was nearly thirty, but he acted like a nervous teenager. I had nothing to do, which suited me fine. I was just looking for a chance to slip away. Unexpectedly, Angela turned to me, her gaze soft. “You must be Hannah. I’ve heard so much about you. The goddess of the art department, wasn’t it?” Startled to be addressed, I waved my hands dismissively. “Oh, no, not at all. That was just everyone fooling around in school.” I hoped the attention would quickly shift. But Angela persisted. “Not at all! After you performed that classical dance at the ball, the entire area under your dorm was filled with flowers the next day.” Before I could speak, she tugged playfully at Frank’s arm. “You two were childhood sweethearts. How did you not end up together? I remember you were inseparable. Everyone thought you’d get married.” Every eye in the room turned to me. I couldn’t explain it, but this seemingly harmless woman radiated a strange hostility towards me. “Her?” Frank looked at Angela, handing her a peeled apple. “In your eyes, she might be a goddess or whatever. But to me, she’s just a tomboy. The brother I grew up sharing pants with.” As if recalling a memory, Frank let out a chuckle. “You have no idea. When Hannah cried as a kid, snot and tears would just stream down her face. If I didn’t wipe that huge glob of snot for her, it would have gone right into her mouth.” “And when she was fifteen, she fainted during gym class and started talking nonsense, flailing her arms and legs around…” “I have to go, I have something to do.” I stood up, barely containing my anger, and managed a tight smile for the adults. “You all chat.” Angela looked at Frank with a concerned expression. “Did I say something wrong to upset her?” Frank glared at me, as if blaming me for ruining the mood. Before he could speak, I cut him off. “I have a date with my boyfriend tonight. I’ll be late if I don’t leave now.” “When did you get a boyfriend?” I had one foot out the door when Frank grabbed my arm. “How come I don’t know about it?” In front of everyone, including Angela, my face flushed. I struggled to pull my arm free. “What business is it of yours whether I have a boyfriend or not?” I snapped. “My own parents haven’t even asked. Why should you care?” “Frank!” his father said in a low, stern voice. “Sit down! What kind of behavior is this?” I used the opportunity to bow to the adults. “Goodbye, Uncle, Auntie.” From behind me, I heard Angela’s sweet voice. “Hannah is so beautiful and performs on stage so often, she must have plenty of admirers… It’s only natural for her to be dating. I think I even saw a hickey under her scarf earlier.” Realizing she might have overstepped, she paused, adding sheepishly, “Maybe it’s because we art students are different. We painters are a bit quieter, whereas you dancers are more… open. But I respect every girl’s choice.” I didn’t hear what they said about me after that. My style had always been a bit bolder. It was a classic case of lifting one up by putting another down, using me as a foil to make her look better. And I could only imagine how Frank would join in on belittling me. But they didn’t know. My claim about having a boyfriend was a lie, but my plan to leave this place and move to the coast was very, very real. I started researching houses and job opportunities there. I threw myself into the planning, busying myself so I wouldn’t have time to think about Frank. We grew up together. He had always played the part of the warm, caring older brother next door, standing up for me whenever I was bullied. When I was ten, I was being mischievous and begged him to stay with me at the amusement park until nine at night. Both sets of parents were so worried they called the police, finally finding us playing house in a sandbox. He took all the blame, saying it was his fault. That night, his father hit him a dozen times with a feather duster. I cried, insisting it was my idea, but Frank, with a defiant lift of his brow, insisted it was all on him. Later, as I grew more beautiful and he more handsome, we became the “golden couple” in everyone’s eyes. I truly believed I had been given the script for a perfect life. [When are you free?] A message from Frank popped up. I wiped a tear from my eye. Before I could even type a question mark, another message came through. [Come get your stuff from my place. I’m inviting Angela over in a few days.] I took a deep breath, calming myself. Less than twenty-four hours ago, we were cuddling on the couch in that apartment, watching a romance movie, our passion leading us late into the night. And now… I gave a bitter smile. I unpinned his chat from the top of my list and sent a single, detached word: [K.] I locked myself in my room that day. My parents came home not long after I did. “The coast is thousands of miles away, Hannah. Once you’re there, coming back will be difficult,” my mom said, watching me cautiously. My dad, hiding behind his newspaper, was also sneaking glances at me. I pulled on my coat. “The weather there is amazing! Isn’t it your dream to retire there?” I smiled and put my arm around her shoulder. “The only thing is, the job market isn’t great. I’m thinking of opening my own dance studio… As for performing again, you know I don’t really care about that.” “But…” my mom frowned, her mouth opening and closing. “Hannah, you…” I glanced at the time. “It’s fine, Mom. I’m serious about this. I’m fine, and my head is clear. You don’t have to worry about me.” “You two, on the other hand, should start thinking about the money.” I gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ve got to run. Talk later.” I thought maybe time and distance would heal the pain. I felt a sense of peace. My devout, passionate love had gone unspoken, but at least I hadn’t lost my dignity. I thought Frank and I could part amicably. I just never expected to be locked out. I stood at the door, keying in the password again and again. [INCORRECT PASSWORD] [INCORRECT PASSWORD] A flame of anger ignited in my chest. When knocking got no response, my rational mind took over. I remembered I could call him. After a series of beeps, the call was disconnected. After my fifth attempt, a text came through: [On a date. Do not disturb.] I took a long breath, resisting the urge to curse him out. [Password.] The next second, a glaring red exclamation mark stung my eyes. Frank had deleted me!

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1 On the eve of my drug launch, I was dragged into an alley by twelve men. They left me with prolapsed intestines and twisted limbs. My brother Josh vowed to imprison my attackers, while my best friend Elizabeth arranged for elite medics to save me. But outside the ER, I heard Elizabeth hesitate: “Was hiring those men to steal Aria’s research too far?” Josh glared at me, conflicted. “Aria bullies Lily, who’s fragile as an adoptee. I won’t let anyone—not even my sister—stand in her way.” His voice dropped. “Once Lily wins the National Medical Prize, I’ll make it up to Aria.” But Josh, I thought, you’ve already broken me. A tear fell. This family of lies—I was done with it. … The doctor confirmed again, his tone urgent. “Mr. Crawford, are you absolutely certain? No surgery? In Miss Crawford’s condition, any further delay will lead to permanent disability. She could be paralyzed, hooked up to a urostomy bag for life.” Josh didn’t hesitate. “Don’t do it.” Elizabeth tried to reason with him. “Honey, look at her. Her body is ruined. There’s no way she can present the new drug tomorrow. She’s your own sister. Are you really going to let her become a cripple?” “Then let her be a cripple!” he snapped. “Without her hands, she’ll finally stop trying to outshine Lily. I’ll support her for the rest of her life.” He then leaned over me, gently wiping the sweat from my brow with a towel, his voice a disarming whisper of affection. “I promised Lily she would win this prize, that she would have her moment in the sun. Aria needs to be completely broken for Lily to feel secure.” Elizabeth sighed, then turned to the doctor, her tone practiced and firm. “Just give her something for the pain. Use the best painkillers you have. Make sure she doesn’t feel a thing.” Hidden from their view, my body trembled uncontrollably as a torrent of hopeless tears soaked my pillow. This wasn’t some random, tragic accident. It was a calculated act of cruelty, orchestrated by the brother I trusted most in the world, all to eliminate me for the sake of Lily, our adopted sister. And Elizabeth, the woman I considered my other half, was his accomplice. The pain that ripped through my broken body was nothing compared to the agony shredding my heart. Elizabeth noticed my tear-soaked pillow. Her own eyes welled up, and a tear splashed onto the back of my hand. “Aria? Oh, Aria, it’s me, it’s Elizabeth. Did the pain wake you? Don’t be scared, I’m right here.” She spun on the doctors, her voice sharp with feigned fury. “What kind of drugs are you giving her? Be careful! Don’t touch her wounds! Can’t you see how much pain she’s in?” Josh, for his part, was a portrait of rage and grief. A six-foot-tall man, he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs, as if he’d gladly take the pain himself. He cursed through clenched teeth, “How dare they do this to my sister. Prison is too good for those bastards. I should have them torn limb from limb and thrown to the sharks.” Then, he looked at me, his eyes swimming with guilt. “Aria, I’ve already called the best specialists in the country. There was an accident on the road, but they’ll be here by tomorrow morning at the latest…” He squeezed my hand. “Don’t you worry. I’ll move heaven and earth to get you healed, to get you back in the lab, developing your medicines.” I watched his masterful performance, my own senses numb, and whispered weakly, “Josh… am I really going to be okay?” “You will,” he declared, his voice booming. “I swear you will.” But his eyes wouldn’t meet mine. He knew. He knew the wounds he had inflicted himself were too deep for me to ever truly recover from. To pave the way for Lily, the brother who had sworn at our parents’ graveside to protect me forever had just personally pushed me off a cliff. And Elizabeth, my sister in all but blood, had chosen to betray me for the same manipulative girl who had driven a wedge between us all. In that moment, I couldn’t tell who was truly Josh’s sister, or who had been Elizabeth’s inseparable best friend for twelve years. I had even been the one to bring them together, to set up their first date. And this was their repayment: a slow, agonizing death by a thousand cuts of lies and deceit. My heart turned to ash. I said nothing more. A nurse approached with antiseptic. Looking at my horrifically injured lower body and twisted limbs, she couldn’t hide her pity. “Miss Crawford, the specialists aren’t here yet. We just need to disinfect your wounds. Try to bear with it.” The best anesthetic in the world couldn’t block out the searing pain. I bit down so hard on my lip that my mouth filled with the coppery taste of blood. But the physical torment was a fraction of the agony in my soul. Elizabeth watched, her hand clamped over her mouth, her eyes instantly red and raw. Josh shot to his feet, fists clenched, and stalked out of the room, his back trembling. Their concern was so real, so convincing. But I couldn’t feel a single drop of its warmth. 2 When I woke again, it was the next day. I could hear Josh and Elizabeth talking just outside my room. “Honey, Aria’s in such bad shape,” Elizabeth said. “Are you still going to have the reporters come to the hospital? To expose her for… you know, being promiscuous?” Josh was quiet for a long moment before his voice came back, firm and resolute. “Yes. She’s already been sullied, what’s a little more? The awards committee is full of puritans; they can’t stand a hint of moral scandal. Besides, this will temper her spirit. It’s for her own good.” He added, his voice low and meticulous, “Just make sure the specialists are ready. The moment the reporters leave, they start the surgery.” Elizabeth quickly agreed. I lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, a hollow shell. Hot tears streamed from my eyes. Josh knew. He knew I’d been swapped at birth, that I’d grown up in poverty and hardship. He knew I’d worked ten times harder than anyone else to become a pharmaceutical researcher. And with a few careless words, he was about to destroy everything I had ever worked for. If I had known that returning to my real family would be a fate worse than death, I would have rather died at the hands of my abusive adoptive mother. An hour later, the door to my room burst open. A swarm of reporters, men and women, poured in like vampires sensing blood. They brandished their long-lens cameras and microphones, a forest of black metal and eager faces. My face went white with terror. I couldn’t move. “Miss Crawford! We hear you partied so hard with multiple partners you landed yourself in the hospital. Would you call this reaping what you sow? How do you feel right now?” “Miss Crawford, with a sex life like that, did you sleep your way to the top of your field?” “Miss Crawford, is it true you can’t even move? That you’re a complete cripple now? Have you lost control of your bowels?” As he asked the last question, the reporter lunged forward and ripped away the thin blanket covering my body. My injuries were too severe for clothes. A tidal wave of shame washed over me. My breath hitched, and I gasped for air, a strangled, painful sound. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting. Look at all those wounds.” “Tsk, tsk, her limbs are completely deformed. Get a shot of that! This is gold.” Their whispers of disgust and contempt were knives in my chest. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling, hot and heavy on my cheeks. “Miss Crawford, you’re not answering. Is it because we hit the nail on the head? Were you just born a slut?” Seeing my panicked, helpless state, they shoved a camera right in my face and started a live broadcast. “Renowned pharmaceutical researcher Aria Crawford, whose promiscuous private life makes her a poster child for depravity. A warning to the public: cherish your bodies, or you might end up a cripple just like her.” I was like a clown, stripped naked for their amusement, unable to even curl into a ball to hide my shame. I could only lie there as the flashes popped, capturing my most broken, humiliating moments for the world to see. “What the hell are you doing! Who let you in here!” Josh charged into the room, roaring at them to get out. Elizabeth stripped off her own coat and wrapped it tightly around me, her own tears falling freely. “Security! Are you all dead? How could you let these vultures in!” They played their parts so well. So well it made me sick. My body shook with a tremor I couldn’t control. Josh knelt before me, taking my ice-cold hand in his, his eyes filled with a carefully crafted guilt. “Aria, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault. I didn’t protect you, and these jackals found a way in. Don’t be afraid, I’ll kill the story. I won’t let them print a single word. I swear, I will never let you suffer another moment of pain.” What a joke. The man who swore I would never suffer again had just subjected me to the greatest humiliation of my life. He knew better than anyone that the reporters already had what they came for. I would be nailed to a public cross of shame, my reputation in tatters. I would live the rest of my life like a rat in the gutter, just as he wanted, forever crushed under his heel. For Lily, the two people I loved most had utterly destroyed me. The shock was too much. My shattered body gave out, and I blacked out. As darkness consumed me, I heard Josh’s panicked shouts and the sound of the waiting specialists rushing into the room. “We waited too long! Her intestines are necrotic. We’ll have to resect this entire section. Her limbs… even if we fix them, she’ll likely never have the fine motor skills for lab work again. She’ll be in a wheelchair. The situation is critical. We’ve missed the optimal window for treatment. The surgery only has a fifty-percent chance of success.” Josh’s voice was laced with disbelief. “What are you talking about? You have to save her! I don’t care what it costs.” Through it all, he never let go of my hand, his choked sobs echoing in the encroaching darkness. “Aria, you have to pull through. I can’t lose you, Aria. I can’t lose you.” Elizabeth was weeping hysterically. “Aria, we made a promise! We were supposed to be each other’s maids of honor! You can’t leave me!” I closed my eyes, my heart a dead, gray cinder. 3 When I opened my eyes again, I was back in a private room. My entire body was swathed in bandages, except for my left hand, which had sustained the least damage. Elizabeth was sitting by my bedside. When she saw I was awake, she burst into tears of joy. “Aria! You’re finally awake! Does anywhere hurt? Are you hungry? Do you want some water?” Her usual care was there, but beneath it was a thin layer of cautious guilt. I almost laughed. They were the ones who had mutilated me, body and soul. Now that they had what they wanted, who was this performance for? I managed a weak smile, my lips cracked and dry. “You should get some sleep, Elizabeth. You have dark circles under your eyes.” Seeing my calm demeanor, she relaxed, lying down on the cot next to my bed and falling asleep almost instantly. Once she was breathing evenly, I reached for her phone on the nightstand. I unlocked it, and the screen lit up with her wallpaper: a photo of the three of them. Lily stood between Josh and Elizabeth, beaming, her arms linked with each of theirs. I opened her photo gallery. Nearly ten thousand pictures. A dense mosaic of their lives together—trips, parties, candid moments. In one video, Elizabeth presented a three-tiered, homemade cake to Lily, playfully dabbing a bit of frosting on her nose. In another, Josh placed a princess tiara on Lily’s head, vowing to make his “one and only sister” the happiest girl in the world. And the photos of us? The twelve years of memories—studying together, chasing boy bands, running through sunsets, crying on each other’s shoulders, promising to live in the same nursing home when we were old—the pictures Elizabeth had sworn to cherish forever, were now all sitting in her recently deleted folder. Not a single one had been spared. Tears blurred my vision. The pain in my chest was sharp, like a physical blow. I didn’t understand. How could a bond so strong just… vanish?

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I was the princess of the Phoenix Clan, born with the purest bloodline. On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, when I revealed my true form before the entire clan, I transformed not into a glorious phoenix, but into a wretched, lowly black serpent. Yet the stray jade rabbit I had rescued manifested a true phoenix form, and was hailed by all as a divine being. I was condemned as an impure mongrel, cast down from the altar and into the mire. My lord father, the Phoenix King, declared the rabbit was his long-lost daughter and summoned divine lightning to flay the flesh from my bones. My own brother tore my spiritual core from my chest to present as a gift to his newfound sister. And my fiancé, the man I grew up with, took the rabbit into his arms, the two of them whispering sweet nothings to each other. As I lay dying, the rabbit herself cast my fading spirit into the Chasm of Annihilation, where gods and immortals are extinguished forever. Even in death, one question haunted me: if my blood was truly that of a phoenix, why had I become a serpent? When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn, one day before the ceremony. 1 “Your Highness, the Gown of a Hundred Feathers has arrived for tomorrow’s ceremony! The Emperor himself also prepared a phoenix hairpin for you. He said it would be a perfect match!” Rosalie chattered excitedly, her eyes stealing glances at the magnificent gown. Woven from the plumes of a hundred different celestial birds with threads of pure gold, it shimmered with an iridescent light. Her hand reached out, wanting to touch it. “It has been millennia since the clan has woven a new Gown of a Hundred Feathers,” she breathed in awe. “It is truly beautiful.” The familiar words sent a tremor through my body. The searing agony of divine lightning, the brutal tearing as my spiritual core was carved from my chest—the memories were as vivid as if they had just happened. My eyes reddened. Was I… reborn? In my past life, I had been ecstatic to receive this gown. Ever since my mother, the Phoenix Queen, had perished, no new phoenix had been born into our clan for thousands of years. All their hopes rested on me. I was the only child of the Phoenix Queen and the Golden Dragon King, the princess with the purest bloodline. On the eve of my ceremony, the entire clan had pooled their resources to create this gown, a symbol of my destiny. I had lovingly put it on and gone to my ceremony, filled with joy. But there, before the eyes of thousands, I had transformed into a wretched snake. Horror swept through the crowd. My lord father’s face darkened. “Lyra, this is a sacred occasion! Stop this foolishness and reveal your true form at once!” I was just as stunned, writhing in my serpent form, trying desperately to summon my power. But no matter how many times I tried, I remained a snake. On my ninety-ninth attempt, a clear, piercing phoenix cry echoed from the heavens. I looked up, dumbfounded. It was the jade rabbit I had rescued. A golden light erupted from her body, followed by a cascade of dazzling, multi-colored feathers. She was a phoenix. The clan fell to their knees, hailing her as a divine being and condemning me as an impure mongrel. I looked to my father, tears blurring my vision. But he was looking at the rabbit, his own eyes wet with tears. “I never imagined… my daughter, Sylvana, has been lost to us for millennia, her identity usurped by this lowly serpent! How dare she!” With a wave of his hand, he brought down the heavens’ fury. Divine lightning struck me, tearing my flesh and drenching me in my own blood. Through my screams, my brother, Kael, personally ripped my spiritual core from my body and presented it to the rabbit as a welcome gift. “You have suffered, my dear sister,” he said. “Take the core of this imposter. Though its blood is vile, it may serve as a trifle for your amusement.” I lay dying in a pool of my own blood, my last hope turning to my fiancé, the Celestial Prince Valerius. We had trained together since childhood. He would surely… “Sylvana, you are the true phoenix!” Valerius, who had always been so cool and reserved, was beaming as he swept her into his arms. “Now, we can finally be together, out in the open!” And I, at that moment, was enduring a pain that consumed my very soul. Sylvana shot me a triumphant smile before personally shoving me into the Chasm of Annihilation. Icy, ethereal winds tore through my body, carving wounds so deep my bones were exposed. But even that pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. In the last second before my consciousness faded, I saw a faint golden phoenix light flicker from within the marrow of my bones. Even in death, I could not understand. The pain of my past life was seared into my soul. This time, I would uncover the truth. 2 Just as I had before, I smiled and accepted the Gown of a Hundred Feathers. But as I lowered my head, a chilling light flashed in my eyes. Rosalie had served me for thousands of years. She was also the one who had first found the injured rabbit. I had saved the rabbit’s life, only to die a bitter death at her hands. In my past life, Rosalie must have colluded with Sylvana to bring about my ruin. I suppressed the murderous urge that rose within me and made an excuse to send her away. “I’ve heard that snow lotuses are blooming on the northern peaks. Go and fetch some for me.” Rosalie’s eyes flickered with panic. “Your Highness, your ceremony is tomorrow! How can I leave for the mountains at a time like this…?” My expression turned to ice. A wave of innate spiritual pressure emanated from me, and my gaze pinned her to the spot. “You will do as I command.” Crushed by the sheer force of my bloodline, Rosalie collapsed to her knees, trembling too violently to speak. She could only bow her head to the floor, over and over. With a wave of my hand, a current of golden energy forcibly teleported her away. If not for the memory of her millennia of service, I would have killed her on the spot. But I had no proof yet, and a flicker of uncertainty held my hand. I would have my justice when the truth was revealed. I tossed the gown to the floor and left my chambers. I went to the grand library and searched for hours until I found a text detailing a secret ritual to test one’s bloodline. I didn’t know if Sylvana had already tampered with my blood, but I had to try. Following the ancient method, I summoned a single, crimson-gold phoenix feather to my palm. It was one of the few things my mother had left me, a true feather from her own divine form. A dagger appeared in my other hand. I reversed the grip and plunged it into my chest. I let three drops of blood from my heart fall onto the feather, then set it alight. Within the flames, a crimson-gold light pulsed. As blood and feather burned away, a sweet, fragrant smoke filled the air. The moment the fire died, a shimmering image of a golden phoenix appeared in its place. I stared, and tears streamed down my face. It was true. I was my mother’s daughter. The blood of the phoenix flowed through my veins. After being slandered and slaughtered, I finally had proof. My true form could never be a lowly black serpent. “Lyra? Are you in there?” A knock at the door. It was Valerius. Hatred surged in my heart, but I forced my voice to be soft. “Valerius, could you do something for me?” He was confused but, as always, utterly obedient. He left without even asking why. When he returned, he handed me a tuft of white rabbit fur and a small jade vial containing a few drops of heart’s blood. I thanked him. The cool, reserved prince looked at me with eyes full of tenderness. He raised a hand as if to touch my hair, then pulled back shyly. “Lyra, after your ceremony tomorrow, we can finally be married.” Looking at this man, so seemingly devoted to me, I felt a wave of disorientation. The man who had discarded me like trash in my past life, and the man who loved me so deeply now—which was the real Valerius? My heart was a frozen stone. I mumbled a perfunctory farewell and closed the door. Immediately, I dripped the rabbit’s blood onto another of my mother’s feathers and lit it with a flame. This time, a pure white light flickered in the fire. When it burned out, it left not a sweet fragrance, but a foul stench. And when the flames died and I saw the image within, I gasped. It was also a phoenix. Sylvana… was truly a phoenix. But my mother had only given birth to one daughter. By all rights, I should be the only phoenix in existence. What in the name of the heavens was going on? 3 I walked out, my face grim. I couldn’t make sense of it. My ceremony was imminent. Was I doomed to repeat the tragedy of my past life? I wandered aimlessly until I bumped into someone. “Lyra? You seem distressed. What’s wrong?” I looked up. It was my brother, Kael. He looked at me with deep concern, reaching for my arm. “Are you not feeling well? Tell me, I’ll get you some restorative pills.” He looked so caring, just as he had when we were young. I was just a nascent spirit when our mother perished. Our father, lost in grief, began to wander the realms, leaving Kael to face the pressure of the clan alone. He handled all the clan’s affairs while raising me. The first spell I learned, the first dress I owned—they were all from him. He had poured his entire being into raising me, spoiling me until I was the undisputed princess of the Phoenix Clan. And yet, it was he who had carved out my core. He who had watched me struggle in agony, watched my heart turn to ash. He had taken that bloody core and presented it to Sylvana with a smile. “Only a phoenix with a bloodline as pure as Sylvana’s,” he had said, “is worthy of being my sister.” The memory made my hands tremble. I forced a sweet smile. “Brother, I don’t like that rabbit. Will you kill her for me?”

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On my twenty-ninth birthday, my husband, who was supposed to be celebrating with me, never showed up. Instead, his assistant posted on her social media story, with the privacy set so only I could see it. It was a picture of two hands, clasped together, both covered in a thick, creamy foam. The caption read: Oops, wrong post. Guess the boss will have to punish me now… I wasn’t surprised. I just calmly liked the post. After all, this was the third time he had cheated on me. … I turned off my phone. My heart was numb, but a deep chill had settled into my body, a cold that urged me to find a source of warmth. I drove home. To my parents’ house. When I reached the front door, I raised my hand to knock, but it felt shackled by an invisible cord, unable to move. I stood there for several minutes, frozen on the welcome mat. Muffled voices drifted from inside. My brother, Sebastian. “Mom, Dad, isn’t it Audrey’s birthday today?” My mother paused. “Your birthday is tomorrow, so… oh, I guess it is hers today.” “Should we give her a call?” She scoffed. “Call her for what? We’ll just celebrate hers with yours tomorrow. It’s what we do every year. She’s used to it.” My father chimed in. “Besides, Paul is probably with her.” My mother’s voice suddenly sharpened, rising in pitch. “With her? Don’t be ridiculous. Paul’s on a business trip. That’s just an excuse, if you ask me. He probably can’t stand the sight of her. She walks around with that long face all day, like the world owes her a million dollars. Whose fault is it that she can’t keep a man’s heart? “And besides, Paul’s a big shot now. What successful man doesn’t have a little fun on the side? She’s making a mountain out of a molehill. He didn’t abandon her after he made it big; he promised she’d always be the lady of the house. That’s more than most get. Can’t she just turn a blind eye? Her constant nagging… who could stand it?” My father and brother murmured their agreement, and the conversation shifted. Laughter soon filled the house again. But for me, standing outside, the world grew colder and colder, until my teeth began to chatter. Two years ago, I walked in on Paul cheating for the first time. The world went cold, and I managed only one word: “Divorce.” When you truly love someone, there’s no room for a single grain of sand in your eye. It didn’t matter that he knelt in the pouring rain all night. It didn’t matter that he claimed he’d been drugged, set up. I cried for an entire night, but I refused to forgive him. That was when my mother slapped me. Hard. She pointed a finger in my face, her voice shaking with rage. “You were the one who insisted on marrying him! Now you want to throw it all away? Do you want to bring shame on this entire family?” Seeing the disbelief on my face, she softened her tone, trying a different tactic. “Paul was tricked by that slut. Just give him another chance. Don’t take it so far.” For a month, Paul came every day, begging, apologizing. I finally relented. But I couldn’t share a bed with him. I couldn’t get past the betrayal. When he saw me, a walking skeleton who had wasted away in just a few weeks, he broke down in tears. He wrote me letters of guarantee, sent me his itinerary every single day, and cared for my every need. But less than six months later, I found him with his secretary. He said he was drunk. He said he thought she was me. I just stared at him in silence, until he exploded in a fit of shame and anger, slamming the door on his way out. This time, Paul didn’t beg for forgiveness. He went straight to my parents, confident they would fight his battles for him. And they did. My mother blamed me, saying I had given him the cold shoulder for half a year, leaving him with nowhere to turn. My father threatened to disown me if I filed for divorce. My brother reminded me that Paul had funded his startup company, and told me to stop being selfish and think about the family. They screamed at me at home. They made scenes at my office. Finally, when I wouldn’t break, my mother took a bottle of pills and was rushed to the hospital to have her stomach pumped. She cried, snot and tears streaming down her face. “Audrey, if you still consider me your mother, you will not mention divorce! Our family depends on him! Everyone knows I have a golden son-in-law. If you divorce him, how will people laugh at us? You can’t be so selfish!” Paul’s circle of friends, the same men who used to respectfully call me their sister-in-law, now offered their own brand of condescending advice. “Come on, Audrey. What man at Paul’s level doesn’t have a few beautiful distractions on the side?” “All you have to do is be the rich wife and spend his money. No one can ever take your place. Honestly, he’s been more than good to you.” “If you won’t think of yourself, at least think of your leech-like family, right?” Paul didn’t have to say a thing. Everyone else had said it for him. I gave in again. This time, my relationship with Paul froze over completely. I treated him like air. After a few failed attempts to get my attention, he started coming home later and later. I don’t know how I survived that period. My mind felt like it was filled with paste, and a thick glass dome separated me from the world. I couldn’t feel a thing. The third time Paul cheated, he brought his assistant home. They had just finished, right there on our sofa. A bright red lipstick mark stained the open collar of his shirt. “Why?” I asked him, my voice hollow. “Why won’t you just let me go?” He lit a cigarette, his features blurring behind the smoke. He sighed, a sound of weary resignation. “Audrey, we’re too old for fairy tales. Even if I agreed to a divorce, your parents never would. I’m doing this for your own good.” He took a long drag. “They say the first thing a blind man does when he can see again is throw away his cane. I didn’t. Even when I no longer needed you, I promised to keep you safe. So you can continue to be the wealthy Mrs. Thorne. If we don’t have love, we still have family.” I actually laughed. A dry, rasping sound. “So you finally admit it? You don’t love me anymore.” Paul watched me for a long moment, a playful, cruel curve to his lips. “Yes. I have to admit, even the deepest feelings fade with time. Now, when I see you cry, I don’t feel anything at all. Just… annoyance.” What comes after your heart has turned to ash? I didn’t know. After I left that place we once called home, I ran into a drunk, leering at me on the street. He chuckled, stumbling closer. “Hey, gorgeous. Where you headed? Let your big brother give you a ride.” His hand reached for me. My eyes, unfocused, stared right through him. A dark, unstoppable wave of destruction crested within me. Go to hell. Go to hell, all of you! What’s the point of living? Then let’s all just die!

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1 The moment my parents cut off my sister’s medical funds—again—for their precious adopted daughter, my heart finally died. The feed sighed along with me. 【Scarlett, your parents said they’re not doing it because they like the adopted girl more. They’re just afraid of spoiling you two. This is all just a test to toughen you up.】 【Remember last time? When they made you sell your blood for tuition? And the time they hired those thugs to steal your food money? This is the 99th test. They said if you can just get through this one, they’ll finally let themselves love you.】 Get through this one? But my sister was already dead. When I saw my parents standing in the middle of my tiny rental apartment, having broken in illegally, I wasn’t surprised. Ten minutes after I’d posted a desperate plea for help online, they had used their connections—and their money—to have the post scrubbed and my account banned. They had the power to silence me online. But they didn’t have the money to save my sister’s life. I clenched my fists, listening as my father’s voice, cold and final as a death sentence, echoed in the small room. “Scarlett, your allowance for the year is cancelled.” He launched into a tirade. “You and Nina are getting more and more out of control. First, you lie about needing medical fees, and now you’re spreading rumors about us online! Do you have any idea how much it cost me to get that post taken down?” His agitation grew, his eyes darting around the room. “Where’s Nina? Get her out here! It’s time I taught you both a lesson, once and for all!” He pointed a finger at me. “You. Kneel. Now.” My mother stepped forward, feigning protection. “Let’s just talk this out. There’s no need for violence.” She turned to me, her voice syrupy sweet. “Scarlett, dear, where’s your sister? Have her come out and apologize to your father with you. This joke has gone too far. If you keep being stubborn, even I won’t be able to help you.” Help? When had she ever helped us? She was always the silent observer, stepping in only at the end to play the peacemaker. When one of their “tests” succeeded, she’d praise herself for her brilliant parenting advice. When a test failed, she’d brush it off, placing all the blame squarely on Nina and me. Even the feed had seen this script too many times. 【I can’t. This time her parents have really crossed the line. Scarlett was just asking for help to give Nina a proper burial. And they had the post deleted in less than ten minutes.】 【My heart breaks for her. I guess this is just the fate of a side character.】 A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Ever since Stella walked into our lives, I’d been able to see the feed. I knew that my sister and I were just stepping stones for the story’s protagonist, Stella. We were destined to fail. But I refused to accept it. I fought back, again and again, only to be defeated every time. Whenever Stella framed me for something, I would exhaust myself trying to explain, to prove my innocence to my parents. To them, my pleas were just pathetic excuses. Later, I learned from the feed that they were using Stella to “toughen us up,” and that they secretly approved of her cruelty. Finally, I gave up. I accepted their twisted tests and even tried to convince Nina to do the same. I thought if we just endured it, the tests would end. But it had been seven years. The tests never stopped. They just got worse. And my beautiful, precious sister, because of their 99th test, had died alone in a hospital. Even now, her body was lying in a cold morgue drawer. Because I didn’t have the money to lay her to rest. And my father had just cut off my meager $500 monthly allowance. I took a deep, shuddering breath. When they were finally done yelling, I spoke, my voice barely a whisper. “You can stop my allowance.” “But please… just lend me two thousand dollars. Please?” “Nina… she’s waiting to be buried…” My father exploded. He ripped off his belt and lashed it across my back. “So, you’re still lying! What kind of sister are you, cursing your own sibling to be dead?” Pain shot through me, but I pushed through it. “I’m not lying. Nina was in a car accident. When I called you, you refused to pay the medical bills. She bled out and died. The cheapest cremation and burial… it’s two thousand dollars.” My voice trembled uncontrollably. “I don’t have the money… that’s why I posted online for help… You can hit me all you want, but please, can you just lend me two thousand dollars so I can bury my sister…” They had so much money. And my sister had died for lack of it. The irony was a knife in my heart. My mother’s body went rigid. “Scarlett, what are you saying? Is Nina really…” 2 My father shoved my mother’s hand away and struck me again with the belt. “You believe her?” he spat. “These two have been liars since they were children! Faking sick, and now faking dead!” “Stella was right all along. All they’ve ever wanted was money!” He glared at me, his face a mask of fury. “If you were half as well-behaved as Stella, your mother and I wouldn’t have to be so hard on you!” The last of my resolve shattered. “You wouldn’t?” I screamed, the words tearing from my throat. “But Stella is just a tool you found to torture us! You know she bullies and frames us, and you just watch!” “Haven’t we been good enough? We earned our own tuition! We worked part-time jobs for food! We excelled in school, got scholarships every year! And what did you do? You hired thugs to rob us of the little money we scraped together for food!” “I’m just asking for two thousand dollars to bury Nina. Is that too much to ask? She was my sister! She was your daughter!” “Why won’t you believe us, just this once?” They both froze, a flash of embarrassment crossing their faces. They clearly hadn’t expected me to know about their “tests.” My mother wrung her hands, her voice a nervous whisper. “Scarlett, when did you find out… and Nina knew too, didn’t she? Is that why you two have been making up stories to get money from us?” After that raw, desperate confession, that was the conclusion they drew? I laughed, a hollow, self-mocking sound. “If you still don’t believe me, then take this two thousand dollars and buy our relationship. Consider it severed.” “From now on, I’m not a Sterling. You won’t have to worry about me tarnishing the family name. Are you satisfied now?” Two thousand dollars. I wondered if, after they cremated my sister, there would be enough left to cremate me, too. Without Nina, there was no reason to keep living. Before they could respond, a saccharine female voice cut in from the doorway. “Scarlett, you’re breaking Mom and Dad’s hearts!” I turned my head, my face devoid of expression, and looked at Stella. She was dressed in an expensive couture princess dress, a Kelly bag worth tens of thousands dangling from her arm. I glanced down at my own clothes: a t-shirt my neighbor had thrown out, shoes I’d salvaged from a dumpster, and a cloth bag I’d gotten for free during a part-time gig. These were my parents. They would spend millions coddling their adopted daughter but wouldn’t spare two thousand for their biological one. Even the feed was outraged on my behalf. Stella’s face was a picture of earnest concern. “Scarlett, I saw you and Nina at the hospital this morning, buying fake medical records. How can you say she’s dead now?” She turned to my parents. “Since Scarlett wants to cut ties, maybe you should just let her. We can… we can just pretend this is another test.” I laughed again, this time in weary defeat. How could she lie so effortlessly about things that never happened? I was exhausted. I tried to defend myself one last time. “You’re so powerful. Why don’t you just check the hospital records? See if a patient named Nina Sterling died there. Then you’ll know who’s lying!” But my mother’s trust in Stella was absolute. “Stella isn’t like you. Would she lie to us? Nina is your own sister, and you keep talking about her being dead. Are you trying to curse her, or us?” “You get Nina out here to apologize right now, or she’ll never see another cent of allowance from us again!” I looked up at the feed scrolling in my vision. They were all angry for me, trying to comfort me, suggesting solutions. But I was completely numb. I had stopped expecting them to understand a long time ago. When Nina had the accident, I had begged them for the money. They had turned it into a test and refused to pay. Nina had clung to life for three days on a gurney in a hospital hallway before she finally gave up. In a way, we were all free now. As soon as I laid Nina to rest, I would go and join her. I just never imagined I wouldn’t even have the money to say goodbye. As despair washed over me, my father snorted. “Since you know about the tests, fine. I’ll give you one last chance. Pass this test, and I’ll give you your two thousand dollars.” 3 “And I’ll give you anything else you want in the future.” Stella’s face fell. She clearly hadn’t expected my father to offer another test. To be honest, neither had I. I looked up, and the feed was filled with advice. 【Scarlett, you should probably agree. They are your biological parents, after all. They probably won’t make it too hard.】 【Yeah, and Nina’s body is still at the hospital. You can’t wait forever. How long would it take you to earn that kind of money working part-time? Nina can’t wait that long.】 They were right. Nina couldn’t wait. I had already tried everything. Borrowing money, applying for loans, looking for work… every time I saw a glimmer of hope, my parents would send someone to sabotage it. I was out of options. That’s why I had resorted to revealing my identity as a Sterling online, hoping public pressure would be my salvation. And in the end? I was still being forced by my own parents to pass a twisted test just to bury my sister. The irony was suffocating. After a long silence, I finally spoke. “Fine. I agree.” For Nina, I had to. Stella shot me a look of pure hatred. I ignored her and held out my hand. “But please, can you give me the two thousand dollars first?” “Her burial really can’t wait.” Stella burst out laughing. “Scarlett, you’re really pushing it, aren’t you?” “Still lying about Nina being dead?” She turned to my parents. “Actually… Mom, Dad, I happened to see Scarlett outside a hotel with a boy the other day. This two thousand dollars, I wonder if she’s…” She trailed off, her eyes darting pointedly to my stomach. My parents’ suspicion was instantly ignited. My mother’s hand flew out and slapped me across the face. “Scarlett! You’re only eighteen and you’re already fooling around with men? You want two thousand dollars from us? Not a chance!” My father’s face was grim. “You want two thousand dollars that badly? Fine. Here’s your final test.” “Earn two thousand dollars in one week.” Stella couldn’t hold back a triumphant smirk. I felt like I had been plunged into ice water. My chest heaved, a fire of helpless rage burning within me. They left without another word. Stella lingered, her eyes scanning the tiny, squalid apartment. “I was a little worried for a second there. I almost thought you’d win this time. Good thing Mom and Dad don’t believe you, as usual.” “I don’t see how you’re going to pass this final test. Why don’t you get on your knees and beg me? I could help you out.” “It’s just two thousand dollars. I can introduce you to a few benefactors. You take good care of them, and you could make not just two thousand, but two hundred thousand.” “Besides,” she added with a vicious smile, “Mom and Dad already think you’re shameless. What difference does it make now?” The feed erupted, cursing Stella, urging me to explain everything to my parents. But what was the point? They were always like this. They would act like they cared, calling me incessantly to make sure I paid my tuition, threatening to disown me if I didn’t get an education. But when I asked to borrow the money, they would say: “School is your own responsibility, Scarlett. You and your sister need to figure it out yourselves. There are plenty of opportunities in this world. If you’re willing to work hard, you can easily earn the money instead of just expecting handouts.” They said this when I was still a minor, when it was illegal for me to work. I had to travel to a remote town, lie about my age, and sell my blood to pay for my education. If they really cared, they would have investigated the moment they heard Nina was dead. But they didn’t. No matter how many times I told them, they were convinced I was lying. After her final taunt, Stella left. I collapsed to the floor, powerless. Utterly lost. I needed two thousand dollars. Not to pass their test. But to bury Nina. And a body… a body couldn’t wait a week. After a long time, I finally made a decision. I walked towards the city’s bar district. What was a little more degradation? If it meant Nina could finally rest in peace, I would do anything. 4 But the seedy, chaotic world of a nightclub was no place for a novice like me. Night after night, I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to endure the grasping, malicious hands. I begged and pleaded, finally convincing two gold-toothed executives to buy a single bottle of champagne. I survived like that, day after day. On the fifth day, the bar owner took pity on me. He sighed, his face etched with weariness. “I hear you’re in a rush for two thousand dollars. How about this? I’ll advance you your wages and tips from the past few days. I’ll have two thousand for you in the morning. After you’ve taken care of your business, you can come back and work in the back office. Away from the customers.” “A young girl like you… it’s not good to go through this kind of hardship so early.” This small act of kindness shattered my composure. I burst into tears, dropping to my knees and bowing my head to the floor three times in gratitude. That night, I called the funeral home and arranged a time for Nina’s cremation. But the next morning, when I arrived at the bar, I was met by the owner’s troubled face. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. His expression was a mixture of guilt and pity. He let out a long sigh. “Scarlett, I’m so sorry.” “The two thousand dollars…” “I can’t give it to you.” The feed, which had been celebrating with me just moments before, went silent. My mouth opened, but no words came out. I started to tremble, tears blurring my vision. Then I saw the feed light up again. 【Scarlett, it looks like your parents pressured the owner. If he gives you the money, he’ll lose his bar…】 【This guy has it tough. His mother has a heart condition, his son is autistic… the bar is all his family has. He had no choice but to say no.】 【But what is Scarlett going to do now? The funeral home is already preparing for the cremation.】 I looked at the owner’s bloodshot eyes. Numbly, I bowed to him. “Thank you. I’m sorry to have caused you trouble.” I wiped my tears with a stiff, mechanical motion and turned away, wandering aimlessly through the streets. I was completely and utterly hopeless. Why was it always like this? Every time a sliver of hope appeared, they would crush it, forcing my sister and me deeper into despair. I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of the sidewalk, my grief cut short by the ringing of my phone. It was Nurse Thompson from the hospital. “Hello? Young lady, you are coming to pick up your sister today, right?” “Every extra day is another fifty dollars…” “Nurse Thompson, I…” I didn’t know how to explain. The words caught in my throat. Before I could speak, a sharp blow struck the back of my head. Someone clamped a cloth over my mouth from behind. A sharp, suffocating smell filled my lungs. The world swam. The last things I saw were the frantic messages on the feed flashing 【RUN】 and the nurse on the other end of the line, her voice faint and distant as she called my name. But I couldn’t answer. A wave of cold washed over me. I forced my eyes open, squinting against a blinding light. “Heh, told you a splash of water would work.” I flinched, trying to move, only to realize I was bound. The man who had spoken walked over, grabbing my jaw and forcing me to look at him. “Tsk, tsk. Not bad looking. This should be a profitable job.” “Don’t be scared, little girl. We’re going to take good care of you.” He smiled, his hand stroking my cheek, then moving slowly, deliberately, downward. With a jolt of horror, I realized I was completely naked. Panic seized me. “What do you want? Who hired you to kidnap me?” The man chuckled, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger. “You pissed off the wrong person. Don’t you even know who?” “A little girl like you… why would you pick a fight with the great Miss Sterling?” Miss Sterling… The name clicked, and just then, Stella emerged from the shadows. Her face was a mask of disgust. She circled me, filming me with her phone. “This is the price you pay for trying to compete with me for Mom and Dad’s love, Scarlett.” “You needed two thousand dollars for Nina’s funeral, right?” She laughed, pulling a bank card from her purse and tossing it at my feet. “Consider this a gift from me. And I was thoughtful enough to find you a few men to help you experience the joys of life.” “You’re welcome. I know you’ll thank me for it.” “Oh, and one more thing.” She smiled, pulling a piece of paper and an ink pad from her bag. She grabbed my hand and pressed my thumb onto the paper.

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