I agreed to a marriage of convenience with my childhood frenemy, who happened to be deaf. We did the deed every single day. No feelings involved, just pure technique. When our five-year contract was up, I planned to terminate it immediately. But then, a memory flashed in my mind: him, unable to hear the blaring horn, almost getting hit by a car while trying to buy me a caramel apple. My heart instantly softened. Just as I was heading upstairs to talk to him, to see if he wanted to just keep living together like this, I heard his buddy joking with him in the hallway: “Bro, are you addicted to playing deaf?” Liam toyed with his hearing aid, leaning against the wall with a low, smirk-laced chuckle: “Only when I’m deaf can she feel completely free to be herself.” Standing on the other side of the wall, my mind went totally blank. Wait. All those filthy, dirty things I whispered in bed… he heard all of them?! 1 Most people have a secret crush on their childhood friend. Not me. I had pure, unadulterated hatred for mine. I hated him for throwing a lit firecracker into a pile of dog crap when we were kids, blowing it all over me. I hated him for sticking gum in my hair in middle school. I hated him for ditching study hall in high school and making me take the fall. Other people’s childhood friends are sweet and considerate. Mine felt like I ordered a luxury item, it went out of stock, and they sent me a random, annoying “free gift” that I couldn’t get rid of. In all the years we hung out. There wasn’t a single good memory. The bad memories could fill a dumpster. Thankfully, right after we graduated high school, he went to college abroad, allowing me to enjoy four peaceful years of university life. Who knew that right after I graduated college, I would run into the one person I least wanted to see from my youth? And then came the even more terrifying bad news: my family’s business went bankrupt, and my totally unreliable father decided to marry me off to secure funding. “My ears might never fully recover. Technically, I’ll always be partially disabled. If you’re not willing…” Sitting across the table, Liam kept his head down. Even his impeccable, expensive bespoke suit couldn’t hide his insecurity. There was absolutely no trace of the arrogant, cocky boy from our youth. When I didn’t say anything, Liam’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the table. His eyes were filled with a heartbreaking vulnerability. “I understand. I’ll tell Mr. Davis to call off the…” Wait! I suddenly snapped back to reality. I finally processed what he had just said. His ears were damaged? A jolt of electricity shot through me. I took a large step forward, right in front of him, and finally noticed the hearing aid hidden beneath his messy hair. “Chloe, is humiliating me fun for you?” Liam’s eyes darkened, a hint of his familiar, teeth-gritting annoyance creeping back into his tone. “How did it happen?” I asked. Liam was momentarily stunned. “When I was studying abroad, I didn’t know how to use an induction cooktop. It exploded and damaged my hearing.” “…” “You…” “I’ll marry you! I’ll marry you!” I covered his mouth just as he was about to speak again. Staring into his wide, dumbfounded puppy-dog eyes, I tried desperately to suppress the wild joy erupting in my chest. Growing up, I could never win an argument against Liam. For every sentence I threw at him, his rapid-fire mouth would shoot back ten. Hell yeah! If I just took out his hearing aid, I could curse him out until the end of time! 2 “Liam, are you part dog or something?!” Clutching my red, swollen, and stinging lips, I viciously shoved against Liam’s muscular chest. He didn’t budge. Instead, he pressed in even closer. The pain made me cry out involuntarily. “Liam! Stop moving! “Get the hell off me!” Liam paused his movements, squinting as he read my lips. “Wifey, what are you babbling about? I can’t understand you.” Then he just kept going. “…I’ve had it with you! Put your damn hearing aid in!” I reached out toward the nightstand to grab his hearing aid. A large, burning hot hand forcefully covered mine, aggressively lacing his fingers through mine, and pinned my hand above my head. Liam’s scorching breath washed over my neck. It sent a shiver down my spine. I looked up. The man lazily half-closed his eyes. His gaze was deep and dark, his voice husky: “Wifey, when we’re doing this, you don’t need to hear anything.” 3 After reaching an agreement at the restaurant that day. Liam and I went straight to the courthouse and got our marriage license. But I wasn’t stupid. After all, it was a marriage of convenience. At the end of the day, it was a relationship built on mutual exploitation. Helping my family’s business survive the crisis was enough. Did they really expect me to tie myself to this guy for the rest of my life?! I didn’t even like him. The term was five years. Liam was under massive pressure from his parents to get married, and he needed a proper, understanding wife for public appearances. And out of all the candidates presented to him, I was the most suitable option. We both got what we needed. When the benefits dried up, we’d part ways. Liam readily agreed and signed the contract. On our wedding night. Lying on the massive, rose-petal-covered bed, a wave of delayed panic finally hit me. I hadn’t thought this through completely. He needed a wife, and I needed the alliance. We were actually married. We weren’t playing house. Were we… going to do that? While my mind raced, the sound of the shower in the bathroom gradually stopped. Liam walked out wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Steam billowed out behind him. He hadn’t blow-dried his hair. It was wet, hanging over his forehead, water droplets still falling. They traced a path down his chest, disappearing into the V-line of his abs. Squinting for a closer look, Liam had a perfect swimmer’s build. Broad shoulders, narrow waist. Before I could inspect any further, Liam started walking toward me. My heart tightened. Is he going to… I swallowed hard. Isn’t this a little too fast? “Liam, I don’t think I’m quite ready for—” As he walked past my side of the bed, I squeezed my eyes shut and death-gripped the edge of the blanket. A breeze brushed past. The touch I expected never landed on me. The closet door next to me opened. Liam pulled out a spare comforter and smiled at me. “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.” ? He’s disgusted by me? I looked down at myself. Sure, I wasn’t Dolly Parton, but this was a massive insult! “Liam, do you think I’m too small?” A surge of pride-trampled anger erupted from the bottom of my heart. Liam didn’t turn around. “What is that supposed to mean?! We both agreed to this marriage! It wasn’t just my idea! “Are you looking down on me?! “I’m at least a C-cup, okay?! I’m not that small! “Hmph, you think you’re so huge?!” I unleashed a furious barrage of words. And the guy didn’t even turn his head. One more step, and he really would have disappeared into the next room. My eyes burned red with anger. I bounced right off the bed and tackled him from behind, landing squarely on his back. “Fulfill your marital obligations to me right now!” Liam looked completely bewildered as the towel around his waist was kicked off by my flailing legs. The moment my racing thoughts crashed into the mattress. I finally realized he wasn’t intentionally ignoring me. The idiot simply wasn’t wearing his hearing aid. 4 My marriage of convenience with Liam was much happier than I had imagined. We were old acquaintances, after all. Plus, by the time we got married, he had already taken over his family’s company as the CEO, and he was so busy I barely saw him during the day. What he left me with was peace, quiet, and a limitless black AMEX. Liam finished the last bite of his oatmeal, stood up, adjusted his cufflinks, grabbed a file folder, and prepared to leave for the office. I looked up from my bowl of oatmeal. “You’ve been so busy lately.” The clock on the wall showed it was only 8:00 AM. Usually, after we ate breakfast, he would sit and read the financial news for a bit, or chat with me before leaving. Liam loosened his tie slightly and walked to the door to put on his shoes. “Your dad has a project that he’s pushing really hard on. I need to go keep an eye on it.” Your dad… Whenever he said that, he meant my father. Doing the math, this was the fourth year we had spent together. And he was still working his ass off for my dad. I suddenly thought of the contract. Speaking without thinking, I blurted out: “Our arrangement is almost at the end of its term. You don’t have to work so hard for him anymore.” Liam’s hand, resting on the door handle, froze. The air in the room grew heavy and silent. Even though our marriage started as a contract, five years is a long time to spend living with someone day in and day out. Saying that now made it sound like I was just going to kick him to the curb the second I finished using him. I was just about to explain that that wasn’t what I meant, but Liam rushed to speak first: “I’ve just been too busy lately. We’ll talk about it later. “Oh, right, I have to fly out of state for a business trip tonight. Text me if you need anything.” Right before he left, I saw him awkwardly fiddle with his hearing aid. In that moment, it felt like a silver needle had been driven straight into my heart, causing a sharp, uncomfortable ache. He was feeling insecure again. Insecure about his hearing. Did he think I was disgusted by him because he was partially deaf? 5 In the beginning, I fully intended to cancel the contract the second the five years were up. But over the past four years, we had meshed perfectly in almost every way. As long as Liam wasn’t out of town, we basically did the deed every single day. On normal, quiet days, Liam would accompany me shopping, take me to theme parks, and go on vacations with me. At first, I didn’t really see him as a “husband.” He was just the guy I grew up with. Hanging out together didn’t feel awkward or unnatural. In fact, after being together for so long, I even started to struggle on the nights he wasn’t there to hold me while I slept. Like right now. Lying alone in a massive, empty bed. Staring at the empty chat log on my phone. I felt an inexplicable, restless anxiety. He had explicitly said to text him if I needed anything before he left this morning. It had been three hours since I sent a message, and there was dead silence on his end. Dammit. Did he get hit by a car or something?! A chill ran through my entire body, and I literally shot up in bed, terrified. During Christmas last year, Liam and I didn’t go back to either of our parents’ houses. Instead, we just had a simple, quiet dinner at home, the two of us. After eating, we wrapped ourselves in one long, oversized scarf and went for a walk down the street. I saw a street vendor selling caramel apples and threw a fit, demanding one. Liam pulled his head out from under the scarf, re-wrapped me tightly so I wouldn’t get cold, told me to stay put, and walked over to buy it. It was just across one street. Who could have known that a car’s brakes would fail? Liam wasn’t wearing his hearing aid. As he walked back toward me, he was even smiling and waving the caramel apple at me. If Liam hadn’t jogged the last few steps… I wouldn’t even dare imagine the consequences. He hadn’t realized how close danger had come to him at all, just smiling like an absolute idiot. He shoved the caramel apple into my hand, saying he had bought one of every flavor they had, so I could eat until I was full. Even my own father was too lazy to buy me a caramel apple when I asked. But Liam? He only regretted that he couldn’t pluck the stars from the sky and hand them to me. I don’t know if I was just traumatized by the sudden accident that day, or if Liam’s smile under the streetlights was just too beautiful. But my heart had secretly skipped a beat. The Liam of today is a good man. Even if the teenage version of him was an absolute terror. Buzz, buzz— The phone vibrating pulled me back from my thoughts. Liam: [Just finished a meeting. What’s up?] The heart that had been lodged in my throat fell back into its rightful place in my chest. I suddenly felt like there were some things… I needed to tell him face-to-face. 6 By the time I landed in Seattle. It was already the morning of the next day. There hadn’t been any red-eye flights available. I had to take the earliest morning flight I could get. After getting off the plane, I got the exact address from Liam’s assistant and rushed over without stopping for a breath. When I see him in a little while, what should I say? Just keeping living together like this… actually seems pretty great. Liam is a solid choice for a life partner. We know everything about each other. So what if his ears don’t work perfectly? Whether we “like” each other or not, in families like ours, that usually isn’t a high priority anyway. I think I’d be pretty willing… to spend the rest of my life with him. His abs are great to touch. His face is fun to squish. His lips are highly kissable. And, if I take out his hearing aid, I can curse him out without any consequences. What other man would just take me swearing at him like a mute? I think only a guy like Liam could meet all my requirements. I suddenly regretted being so overly cautious back then. I wasn’t even sure if Liam would be willing to tear up the contract and stay with me. I finally gathered the courage to walk into the office building. I pulled my phone out of my trench coat pocket, preparing to call Liam. A familiar voice drifted from the stairwell behind me: “Bro, are you addicted to playing deaf?” What playing deaf? I froze in my tracks, turning my head slightly. A familiar face came into view. It was Liam’s best friend. I had met him before when Liam brought me to a charity gala. Liam had his back to me. He was toying with the hearing aid he had just removed from his ear. Half of his face was hidden in the shadows, but his tone carried a distinct smile: “Only when I’m deaf can she feel completely free to be herself.” “But your hearing fully recovered months ago. You can’t keep this from her for the rest of your life, can you?” “We’ll see how it goes.” “Alright, man. But you should probably tell her sooner rather than later. You’re husband and wife, after all. Keeping secrets is never a good thing.” … A massive ringing exploded in my brain. I didn’t hear whatever was said next. It sounded like they had a meeting to get to; the two men walked away side-by-side. I hid inside the fire exit stairwell, trying to process those few sentences. Liam’s hearing was fine. The reason he hid it from me was so I could “feel free to be myself.” He didn’t like wearing his hearing aid at home. I always assumed he just found it too noisy and took it off to focus on his work. Who could have known his hearing had actually been recovering this whole time! I always assumed he couldn’t hear, so I constantly acted like an absolute lunatic around the house. Did that mean he heard me when I was ripping massive farts in the living room?! And even more terrifyingly— All those filthy, dirty things I whispered in bed… did he hear all of them?! 7 As I was sprinting through the airport, ready to flee back home. Liam’s call suddenly came through. “My assistant said you came looking for me?” Hiss. I almost forgot. I had contacted his assistant to ask for his location. I stopped dead in my tracks in the terminal, spouting absolute nonsense: “I was bored at home, so I flew up here for a little vacation.” “…What a coincidence?” I gripped my phone tightly, staring intently at the tips of my shoes. Liam’s face involuntarily floated into my mind again. This was exactly what I had come here to do in the first place. But those things I said in bed… He heard them. He heard them! Whatever. We’re still legally husband and wife right now, anyway. Is it a crime for a wife to talk a little dirty to her husband? Is it illegal? Are the morality police going to come arrest me? I pumped myself up, took a deep breath, and spoke: “I’m at the airport. Come pick me up.” I vastly overestimated my psychological resilience and the thickness of my skin. When Liam appeared in front of me, I couldn’t stop myself from turning bright red. “Are you hot?” I looked up. The man was wearing the dark grey suit I had seen him in near the stairwell. His entire aura was expensive and relaxed. It seemed he had rushed over right after his meeting ended. He took the small suitcase from my hand, his other hand naturally taking mine, shielding me on the inside of the walkway. “I’m flying back tomorrow. I’ll stay here for the night. Want to fly back together tomorrow?” He smiled as he looked at the crosswalk light, seemingly in a fantastic mood. I nodded. 8 Late at night. After taking a shower, I burrowed under Liam’s covers. As expected, sleeping next to Liam was always the warmest. I hugged his waist and buried my face deeply into his chest muscles. It was that familiar citrus scent. Liam’s natural scent. It smelled so good. Every time I buried my face in his chest, I slept so much sounder. I couldn’t help but hug him tighter and take another deep breath. I was completely oblivious to the rising body temperature of the man next to me. By the time I realized what was happening, I was already pinned underneath him. The atmosphere was hazy. Our noses touched. Slightly ragged breathing tangled together. I mentioned this before, but Liam is an incredible kisser. From my forehead, to my eyes, the bridge of my nose, my lips, my collarbone… It was like a current of electricity, sending shiver after shiver through me. Restrained yet desperate. I opened my eyes, already dazed and clouded, wanting to pull him even closer. “Liam, I want you to…” Suddenly, I snapped back to reality. The leg I had hooked around his waist froze instantly. I suddenly remembered what he told his friend in the stairwell. Liam could hear. He could hear! I stared at the man who had his head buried in his work, acting as if he knew absolutely nothing. I bit my lip hard, forcing down the rest of the sentence I was about to say. What a manipulative jerk. He must have loved listening to me say all that stuff! If he’s going to act, then two can play at that game. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my tense body to relax, keeping my mouth clamped shut and refusing to make a sound. Liam worked away for a long time. He seemed to sense something was off, but couldn’t blow his cover and reveal he could hear. He could only keep going. In a daze. He hooked my hand and pressed it against his stomach. The corners of his eyes were wet, looking like a pure yet feral male fox. I thought back to the things I used to say. “Hubby, you’re amazing. “Hubby, right there. “Hubby, you’re making me cry so hard I…” ENOUGH! I gritted my teeth, desperately holding onto my last shred of defense. Liam seemed to be engaged in a silent battle of wills with me. His wet, puppy-dog eyes stared at me intently, but his movements grew fiercer and fiercer. I honestly couldn’t hold it in anymore. I opened my mouth. But the words took a sharp, aggressive turn: “Liam, has your technique gotten worse?” I clearly felt the man on top of me go rigid. But he had to keep moving, tilting his head with a look of pure innocence, staring at my mouth and asking me what I was saying. I held back a laugh. “I said, you’re really bad at this.” “…” The man was furious but couldn’t dare speak. “Oh, right, you don’t have your hearing aid in, so you can’t hear me. “I really want to try a different guy. “I’ve been with you for too long, there’s no novelty left. “Right now, I’m kind of into the ‘golden retriever’ type. Sweet, young, and full of energy.” Liam’s face grew darker and darker. He still had to pretend he didn’t understand, asking me what I was babbling about. But before I could open my mouth to say anything else… He buried his face deep into the crook of my neck. He didn’t want to hear it anymore. The puppy didn’t like hearing those words. Tonight, a certain man who was playing deaf had his heart quietly shattered into a million pieces.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “402462”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was officially dating the sweetest “puppy dog” boyfriend online. Every day, without fail, he’d send me photos of his abs. He was perfect. But the day before we were supposed to meet in person for the first time, he suddenly bailed. [Baby, I got jumped. It’s bad. Sobbing.] [My face is a mess. I can’t let you see me like this right now.] My heart completely broke for him. [Baby, who did this to you? What kind of animal puts their hands on you? Tell me who, and I swear I will end them!] His reply came instantly: [Julian Vance. St. Jude’s Hospital, Room 312.] I stared at the screen, and the metaphorical forty-foot blade I was ready to wield dropped from my hands. …Because I am Julian Vance. And just this afternoon, I had absolutely pulverized my insufferable stepbrother. 01 My phone buzzed. It was a message from my online boyfriend. [Baby, show me some skin.] I glanced at the screen, my ears heating up instantly. Is this guy crazy? It’s the middle of the day. I typed back: [Honey, I’m in my dorm room.] Y: [I don’t care. I’m having the worst day. I have to deal with two people I absolutely loathe in a few minutes.] [Baby.] [Pity party GIF.] Fine. I guess I have to spoil him. Luckily, my three roommates had just walked out. I locked the door, scrambled onto my bed, and started a video call. I didn’t show my face. Just… skin. … By the time we ended the call, I was drenched in sweat. I took a quick shower and headed straight for the Waterside Estate. Talk about ironies—I also had to deal with someone I absolutely loathed today. My stepbrother, who had never once looked me in the eye since day one. A year ago, after my mom remarried, we moved into my stepfather’s mansion in Waterside. I came back once a week for mandatory family dinner. And to inevitably run into Elias, my stepbrother. Today was no exception. As soon as I walked through the door, I saw him leaning back on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. He looked up and spared me a glance. His expression was anything but friendly. He had a shock of dyed blonde hair. If you didn’t know better, you’d think we owned a golden retriever that knew how to use a smartphone. My mom and stepdad, Arthur, were in the kitchen doing the cooking themselves. I let out a quiet scoff and sat down as far away from Elias as humanly possible. I pulled out my phone to reply to my boyfriend. Y: [Baby, I miss you so much~] [Being in the same room as someone I despise is actual torture.] I typed: [Tell me about it. I’m living that reality right now.] [Just looking at him makes me lose my appetite for dinner.] Y: [Ab shot photo.] [Don’t look at him, baby. Look at me.] Ugh, this look-but-don’t-touch thing is killing me. We’d been together for months but still hadn’t met up. Originally, we agreed to meet as soon as the semester started. Then he claimed he was too tan after basic training. Then he complained that some murderous barber completely ruined his hair. He definitely had a massive ego. Regardless, tomorrow was finally the day. We were actually going to meet. My mood immediately lifted. Even the insufferable blonde across from me didn’t seem quite as annoying. Mom brought the food out, and Elias and I shoved our phones away at the same time. I happened to glance at him, and the faint smirk that had been on his face instantly vanished. Me: “…” What a psycho. 02 At the dinner table, Mom and Arthur did most of the talking. Elias and I remained completely silent. We only spoke when absolutely forced to. The meal tasted like cardboard. After dinner, Arthur had an emergency at work and had to head back to the office. I was planning on leaving immediately, but Mom made me stay. Later that night, she brought a glass of warm milk to Elias. Elias didn’t take it. “How do I know you haven’t poisoned it? Trying to kill me off so your son can inherit my dad’s money?” My temper instantly flared. “Elias, take the milk or don’t, but watch your tone. Show some respect.” Elias turned to me, his expression dead. “What? Did I say something wrong?” “You think being a homewrecker and breaking up a family gives you moral ground?” I lunged and slammed a fist directly into Elias’s face. He tried to swing back. But I’d been training in boxing since I was a kid. I sidestepped, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it behind his back. “Apologize!” I spat, getting right in his face. He winced in pain, gritting his teeth, refusing to say a word. Mom started pleading, “Julian! Let him go!” I reluctantly released my grip. Elias had a toxic mouth and a rebellious streak. He always assumed I was after his father’s fortune. He always thought my mother had destroyed his parents’ marriage. Every time I wanted to teach him a lesson with my fists, I held back because of my mom. She genuinely loved Arthur. I didn’t want to make things hard for her. But today, I couldn’t take it anymore. Unexpectedly, the second I let go, Elias took advantage of the opening and landed a solid punch right on my nose. I didn’t have time to dodge. Son of a bitch. Just as I was about to retaliate and pulverize him, Arthur walked back in. Fuming, I grabbed my keys and went back to my dorm, refusing to stay another minute at the mansion. Mom sent me a novel’s worth of weary, pleading texts. I understood her position. I really did. But I was still furious. That animal Elias hit pretty hard. My nose was killing me. Back in the dorm, my roommate, Logan, looked at me in shock. “Holy shit. Your brother do that?” I gritted my teeth. “He did. But I don’t have a brother.” Logan teased, “Don’t you usually make your online sweetheart call you ‘Big Daddy’?” I glared at him, pulled out my phone, and said, “Don’t compare Elias to my baby. I need to get some sympathy from the one person who actually cares about me.” I opened messages, and he had already sent several texts and a photo. The photo only showed his profile. His lip was cut and swollen. [Baby, I got jumped. It’s bad. Sobbing.] [My face is a mess. I can’t let you see me like this right now.] Why is today such a clusterfuck? Both me and my baby got beaten up. My heart completely broke for him: [Baby, who did this to you? What kind of animal puts their hands on you? Tell me who, and I swear I will end them!] Y: [Julian Vance. St. Jude’s Hospital, Room 312.] 03 I froze. My entire body turned to ice. I turned my phone off, then unlocked it again. I rubbed my eyes hard. I pinched my thigh as hard as I could. It hurt like hell. I wasn’t dreaming. I hadn’t misread it. My baby was saying I was the one who beat him up. A million things flashed through my mind at once. My baby is a freshman at St. Jude’s. Elias is a freshman at St. Jude’s. My baby’s username is Y. Elias’s last name is Yale. At this point, I had to face a brutal reality. My online boyfriend was Elias Yale. In the dorm room, I let out a gut-wrenching, agonizing roar: “FUCK!” Logan ripped his bed curtains open in terror. “What is wrong with you?!” I waved a hand at him, looking like I’d just welcomed death. Then, I let out a squeal like a terrified gopher. Just thinking about the fact that I’d been calling Elias “baby” every day. Thinking about Elias calling me “darling” and “hubby.” Thinking about the video calls we had… where we both showed… things. To each other. I wanted to die. I actively wanted the ground to swallow me whole. No wonder I thought his voice sounded familiar the first time I met him. But at the time, I’d dismissed the possibility that he was my online boyfriend within a fraction of a second. That guy always had a frozen, resting-bitch-face, like the whole world owed him money. How could he possibly be my sweet, obedient, “puppy dog” baby? In this moment, I regretted everything. I should have been more suspicious. Every time I went back to Waterside, I complained to “Y” about my awful stepbrother. We both knew the other person had someone they absolutely despised in real life. Who would have guessed the despised person was… us? I was in absolute agony, and I couldn’t tell a soul. I didn’t sleep a wink. I scrolled through my entire chat history with Elias. It was a mess of emotions. How could my perfect baby be Elias? After a night of torture, I came to a decision. Since we hadn’t met up yet, I needed to make a clean break. Now. Run! I texted Elias, telling him I’d suddenly met someone in person at school that I really liked. Then I broke up with him. I blocked him and deleted his contact immediately. My heart felt completely hollow. Online dating is a curse! I am never doing this again as long as I live. Over winter break, I was on my Xbox, trying to rank up in Call of Duty. I was in a 1v1 matchup against another player in the same tier. The other guy kept calling in teammates for help. He was beating me, and I was getting pissed. After the match ended, I invited him to a private 1v1 duel. I absolutely annihilated him. Finally, I felt a sense of release. He sent a friend request. We started playing Doubles together frequently. After talking for a while, it became clear we both… leaned the same way. He was three years younger than me and started calling me “Daddy.” I was completely whipped. One thing led to another, we set up “partner” tags in-game, bought matching skins. We started dating. Knowing he was coming to St. Jude’s as a freshman, becoming my schoolmate… I was so excited I couldn’t sleep that entire night. Thank god he had such a massive ego back then, so we never met up. Otherwise, I can’t even imagine that scene. It would have been pure hell. 04 I spent the entire next day asleep in my dorm room. I woke up in the late afternoon to a call from my mom. “Your stepdad called Elias into his study early this morning. They talked for hours.” “Then, Elias came out and gave me a very awkward, stiff apology.” “When you have some time, you should talk to him, too.” I let out a sigh. “I have nothing to talk to him about.” “As long as he doesn’t say awful things to you, I’m fine with leaving him alone.” Mom sighed on the other end. “I suppose that’s for the best.” “I saw him sitting out in the garden alone this afternoon, crying. I’m afraid something terrible must have happened.” “His eyes were swollen shut from crying.” “I didn’t dare ask him. When I tried to get him to eat, he said he wasn’t hungry.” I froze. Could this be because I broke up with him? After hanging up, I opened Snapchat and saw a dozen new friend requests from fake accounts. The accompanying messages were heartbreaking. [Darling, everything was fine yesterday. Why did you suddenly break up with me today?] [Did I do something wrong? Tell me, I’ll change. I’ll do anything.] [Please just accept my friend request so we can talk, okay?] [Baby, I’m in so much pain.] My heart twisted. I turned the phone off. How is this kid a completely different person online versus in real life? Monday, on my way to class, I ran right into Elias in the hallway. I scanned him. The cut on his lip still hadn’t healed. His eyes were indeed swollen. He stared at me with an icy, dead expression. I quickly looked away. Frozen, my ass. If you knew who I was, I wonder if you’d still be acting like this. If I was a bad person, I could play you like a fiddle. For the next few days, I had zero appetite. Logan knew the whole story by now and kept sighing about “cruel fate.” To distract myself, I dragged Logan to play basketball all afternoon. As dusk fell, we walked past the quad and saw a student band setting up for an open-mic night. We grabbed a random spot on the grass and sat down. Until I heard a voice I knew too well. “I’d like to dedicate this next song to someone at this school.” The backing music started—it was “The Long and Winding Road” by The Beatles. Elias actually had a beautiful singing voice. It was deep and resonant. Very alluring. His pronunciation was perfect. Back when we were dating over the phone, I always made him sing for me. This was my favorite song. When he finished, the quad erupted in thunderous applause. Elias had already made a name for himself during freshman orientation with his looks. After this song, he’d probably double his admirers. Logan said, “I did some asking around. Elias has put out the word that he already has someone he likes.” I buried my face in my knees and replied, “I don’t want to know!” Elias was tireless, sending me friend requests from new accounts every day. [I sang a song for you at the quad open-mic tonight. Did you hear it?] [Baby, I think about you every single second of every day.] God, he’s annoying. The more I see it, the more annoyed I get. The more annoyed I get, the less I can sleep. 05 Luckily, Arthur and Mom were going away on another vacation. I didn’t have to go back to Waterside and see Elias. I was hiding out in my dorm, playing video games, when I got a call from Arthur. His tone was strained. “Julian, can I ask you for a massive favor? Could you go check on Elias?” “He’s sick. He won’t go to the hospital, and he’s just locked himself up in that apartment I got him near campus.” After hanging up, I threw some clothes on and sprinted for Elias’s off-campus apartment building. I wasn’t worried about him. I was simply doing Arthur a favor. I knocked on the door for a while, but got no answer. So I entered the code Arthur had given me. There were several empty beer cans on the coffee table in the living room. I pushed open the bedroom door. There was a large lump under the covers. I pulled the comforter back. Elias’s face was flushed dark red, and his forehead was drenched in sweat. His temperature was dangerously high. This kid is going to kill himself. I started running around, getting a thermometer, making him take some ibuprofen. Then I used a cool towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He was frowning deeply, like he was having a nightmare. He started talking in his sleep. “I was wrong.” “Don’t leave me.” “Baby.” He was clutching my hand with terrifying strength. My heart suddenly felt like it was being pricked by a needle. I used my other hand to gently pat the back of his hand and said softly, “I’m not leaving.” Elias calmed down almost instantly. I stared at him closely. He actually looked pretty peaceful when he was asleep. He wouldn’t let go of my hand, and I couldn’t pry it loose without waking him. Before I knew it, I slumped against the edge of the bed and fell asleep, too. I woke up because my arm was completely numb. When I opened my eyes and tried to stretch, Elias was leaning against the headboard, watching me warily. Holy shit, you scared me. He asked, “What are you doing here?” Seeing his cold, distant demeanor again made me instantly furious. I snapped, “I’m here to take care of you, obviously.” “Arthur was afraid you were going to burn your brains out.” He looked slightly taken aback, and his tone softened a fraction. “Thank you.” I let out a cold scoff and checked the time. 3:00 AM. I was sweaty and gross. I wanted to take a shower. Ten minutes later, I walked out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around my waist. Elias was leaning against the door frame like some kind of sentry. I almost jumped out of my skin. My hand slipped, and the towel dropped to the floor. Furious and mortified, I snapped, “What is wrong with you? Are you standing there just to give me a heart attack?” He stared at me, and his gaze suddenly darkened. I realized he was staring at my waist. Crap. I used to send him photos of my abs all the time. I had a mole on my collarbone and another one right on my lower back, in the small of my waist. I frantically grabbed the towel and wrapped myself up. Close call. Too close. 06 I slept in the guest room. The next morning, I took Elias’s temperature, and it was normal. I let out a sigh of relief, then turned to him. “I’m leaving.” Elias called after me, looking like he was forcing himself to say something incredibly difficult: “Thank you again for taking care of me last night.” “And… about what happened the other day. I’m sorry.” “I shouldn’t have said those things to your mother. I was wrong. I misunderstood her.” I waved my hand and told him, “You’re apologizing to the wrong person. Tell my mom.” “I’ve already sent her an apology text.” I replied, “Then we’re good. After all, I pulverized you.” Elias: “…” He continued, “I used to think my dad abandoned my mom, but I just recently found out the truth. My mom abandoned my dad. And she abandoned me, too.” “She moved abroad with another guy.” “It feels like… I’m always being abandoned.” Elias’s voice got quieter and quieter, looking utterly lost and dejected. My breathing hitched. I turned around and said, “Don’t overthink it. Arthur loves you more than anything.” “You just started your freshman year. Stop skipping classes, and stop drowning your sorrows in beer.” Elias fell silent for a moment. I figured I’d successfully shut him up with my “dad lecture.” Then, I heard him say, “Julian, I swear your voice sounds more and more familiar every time I hear it.” My stomach dropped. I gave a forced, awkward laugh. “I have a generic voice.” I fled the apartment as if it were on fire. I had just gotten to the bottom of the apartment building when my phone rang. Mom. “Julian, sweetie? You and Elias seem to be getting along a bit better?” “Arthur said Elias just asked him for your Snapchat username.” I stopped dead in my tracks. My phone slipped from my hands and hit the pavement. I stood there, a total disaster. I only have one Snapchat account. I don’t have a burner. I told myself: You are dead. You are so dead. 07 I was wandering down the street like a zombie, trying to call an Uber. Then, I heard fast, urgent footsteps behind me. What will be, will be. Elias ran up to me, panting, staring at me in absolute disbelief. “Julian. It’s you.” I turned around, forcing myself to look calm. “Yeah. It’s me. Disappointed? Trust me, the feeling is mutual.” “So you can stop sending me friend requests now. I’m tired of blocking them.” Just as I finished speaking, my car arrived. I scrambled into the backseat. For the next few days, my friend request page on Snapchat was finally quiet. I sat on my bed, staring at my phone. This was exactly what I wanted. I should have been happy. But my heart was thoroughly twisted in knots. See? Elias Yale hates Julian Vance. The only person he loved was that imaginary guy online. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Wait, what am I even angry about? Oh, I knew what I was angry about. The truth was, I still really loved my puppy dog baby. Even knowing he was Elias. Or to put it another way—I loved Elias. I couldn’t stop looking at him. I was completely drawn to him. I walked down from the second floor of the mansion. The maid was in the kitchen cooking. Arthur and Mom were on the sofa, talking. I was planning to head back to school immediately. Arthur asked, “Julian, you aren’t staying for dinner? Elias will be here in a few minutes.” I used “urgent schoolwork” as an excuse and bolted out the door. Talk about bad timing. The second I walked out of the gate, I ran right into Elias. And the girl he’d been seen with at school this afternoon. He’s bringing her home to meet his dad? Things are moving that fast? I walked right past them, ignoring them completely. Elias called out, “Julian, where are you going?” I snapped, “None of your business!” I walked away as fast as I could. None of my roommates were back yet. I was alone in the dorm. I lay on my bed, my chest feeling tight. Am I officially heartbroken? I was deep in thought when I heard a knock on the door. I opened it. Elias. “Julian, your mom said you were in a terrible mood. What’s wrong?” I spat back, “Why aren’t you with your girlfriend? Why are you here bothering me?” He looked confused. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” “The girl I was with this afternoon? That’s my cousin. She’s my uncle’s daughter.”

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I only found out later. The reason they didn’t come to pick me up themselves was because Maya had attempted suicide. No wonder everyone in that house treated me with such icy indifference. It turns out, they were terrified of triggering her. They explained to me later that Maya had a history of severe clinical depression. She had finally started to open up and become happy again. But my sudden reappearance caused a massive relapse. They asked me to be understanding. I didn’t care. If they didn’t love me, that was fine. I wasn’t starved for affection. I already had a family who truly loved me. 1 To say I wasn’t expectant would be a lie. What kid wouldn’t be expectant when they finally find their biological parents? When I found out from our nosy but well-meaning neighbors that my mom and dad weren’t my biological parents… I went home and cried my eyes out. But my parents managed to coax me out of it with a mountain of snacks, new toys, and endless promises. The main reason it worked was because they treated me so incredibly well. There was absolutely no difference between how they treated me and how other parents treated their biological kids. When I messed up, they would scold me and teach me the right way to do things. When I brought home good grades, they were bursting with pride. When I threw irrational tantrums, my dad would get so mad he’d give me a couple of swats on the rear, but never in front of other people. When I caught a severe flu and had a dangerously high fever, my mom cried her eyes out in the ER, and my dad stayed awake all night taking care of me. Every scrape or bruise I got made their hearts ache. Even after my little brother was born, they never showed an ounce of favoritism. Kids have short memories. Wrapped in the warmth of that home, I quickly forgot about the adoption revelation. I grew up happy and carefree all the way into middle school. Both of my parents were public school teachers, so my academic discipline was always pretty strong. Since elementary school, I had never dropped out of the top three in my grade. During the high school entrance exams, I overperformed and scored the second-highest in the entire city. The top two magnet high schools in the district both offered me full rides. While my parents and I were still debating which school would be a better fit… That was when my biological parents found me. It turned out that a while back, when I went to Chicago for the national finals of a physics competition, a chaperone parent—who happened to be a distant relative of my biological parents—thought I looked incredibly familiar. Apparently, my eyes and brow line were a carbon copy of my biological mother’s. Combined with the fact that I was the exact right age, she snapped a photo of me right then and there and sent it to my biological mother. My biological parents immediately launched an investigation and discovered I had been adopted by my current family. After that, it was a blur of police involvement, DNA testing, and legal paperwork. When the DNA results came back positive, the elegant, highly refined woman who looked so much like me completely lost her composure, holding me and sobbing uncontrollably. I could feel the overwhelming, uncontrollable emotion pouring out of her. The tall, broad-shouldered man standing next to her—my biological father—was also secretly wiping his eyes. My biological mother’s body trembled as she held me. She cried and laughed at the same time, saying thank God I was adopted by a kind family and didn’t have to suffer. Since the biological connection was confirmed, and I was a minor, the law technically favored me returning to my biological parents. But there was still a lot of paperwork to sort out on both sides, so they couldn’t just take me away immediately. I also needed time to properly say goodbye to the parents who raised me. When my biological parents left, they stopped the car several times before finally driving away. My biological mother got out of the car multiple times, hugging me tightly, looking back at me with every step she took toward the vehicle. They promised they would come pick me up in a few days. 2 Finding my biological parents and learning I wasn’t intentionally abandoned by them brought me a deep sense of joy. They told me the story of what happened when I was born. Shortly after I was born, a nanny they had hired stole some expensive jewelry from my biological mother. When she found out, she fired the nanny immediately. The nanny harbored a deep grudge. A few days later, she snuck back into the Vance family estate and abducted me. I vanished just like that, and they could never find me again. They didn’t know exactly what happened after that, but it was highly likely the nanny eventually just abandoned me. My current adoptive parents had adopted me from a local orphanage. They had been married for several years and couldn’t conceive, so they decided to adopt. I was incredibly lucky to cross paths with such a kind-hearted couple. They truly treated me as their own flesh and blood, pouring everything they had into raising me. When I was four, they miraculously conceived a child of their own—my little brother. They always said having a daughter and a son made their family perfectly complete. Knowing I was going to be separated from them and move to my biological parents’ home in Chicago, I hugged them and cried hysterically. I asked them if I could just stay. I wanted to keep living with them. As for my biological parents, I could just visit them during summer and winter breaks. Of course, my parents didn’t want to let me go, but they swallowed their own pain and gently reasoned with me. “We raised you for all these years, of course we don’t want to let you go. But they are your biological parents, and they’ve been searching for you for over a decade!” “As parents, the agony of losing a child is like having your heart ripped out. They’ve been living in torment every single day.” “The sheer miracle of finding you again… how could we possibly be cruel enough to stand in the way of that?” “Besides, we can tell they truly love you, which is the only reason we’re willing to make this sacrifice.” “And there’s another thing. Your biological parents live in Chicago, in one of the most expensive zip codes in the country. They are a true, old-money family.” “The resources and opportunities they can provide for you are things we couldn’t match even if we worked for several lifetimes.” “They can give you a much better life.” “But, Chloe, you will always, always be our daughter.” “Even if we don’t live under the same roof, remember that this house in Maple Creek will always be your home.” Despite the agonizing reluctance, I knew I had to leave. The one silver lining was that both my adoptive father and my biological father shared the last name Vance. Which meant I didn’t have to face the awkwardness of changing my last name. That night in bed, the faces of my biological parents floated through my mind. I realized that my features really did carry echoes of theirs. Especially my biological mother. I looked so much like her; it was no wonder that relative instantly thought of her the second she saw me. Maybe that innate biological connection was real? Thinking about the sheer joy and concern in their eyes, and their extreme reluctance to leave me, a wave of warmth flooded my heart. What would it feel like to live with my biological parents? Would they be as good to me as my mom and dad are now? A seed of anticipation began to take root in my heart. But, when the day came for me to be picked up, the only person who arrived was an older man who introduced himself as the Vance family butler. My biological parents did not personally come to take me home, as they had promised. 3 Under the butler’s guidance, I flew on a plane for the very first time in my life, and in first class, no less. When we landed in Chicago, only a driver was there to pick us up. The car navigated through the sprawling metropolis for over an hour before arriving at a stunning, gated residential community. Just as my parents had said, the Vance family was incredibly wealthy. The house in front of me was a massive, sprawling estate, exactly like the ones you see in movies about the ultra-rich. I had never seen a house this huge, or a yard this vast. There were people in the gardens using riding mowers to trim the immaculate lawns. I looked over curiously, and the butler told me they were just the estate staff and I didn’t need to greet them. Inside the luxurious, cavernous living room, there was only one woman standing there waiting. The butler said to her: “This is Miss Chloe. Please take her to her room and make sure she is settled in.” With that, he handed me off to this woman, “Martha,” and left. Martha took my suitcase, her tone perfectly respectful: “Miss Chloe, the Madam has already had your room decorated. Please follow me.” I followed her up the grand staircase. The room was on the second floor. It was massive, with its own en-suite bathroom and a walk-in closet. It was decorated in a very girly style; the furniture and wallpaper were all shades of soft pink. “Miss Chloe, you must be exhausted from the trip. You can rest for a while.” “Um—” I paused. I still couldn’t quite bring myself to say ‘Mom and Dad.’ “Are they… are they all busy?” Martha’s expression faltered for a second. “Ah? Oh, yes. The Mister and Madam are both busy.” I nodded and walked into the room. I opened my suitcase and hung all my clothes in the closet. It was a late summer afternoon. Aside from the faint hum of traffic in the distance, the entire mansion was eerily silent. My body was exhausted from the long trip, but lying in the massive bed, I couldn’t fall asleep. An inexplicable wave of grievance washed over me. When they left, they had been so reluctant to say goodbye. When they held me, they cried with such profound sorrow. The way they looked at me was so tender. She was the one who explicitly promised she would personally come to Maple Creek to pick me up. They were adults. They broke their promise. And now, they just dumped me in this massive house all by myself. Two liars. Maybe… maybe they really were dealing with a massive emergency and couldn’t get away? The CEO of the Vance Corporation, the matriarch of the Vance family… they sounded like incredibly busy people. Just like the executives on TV, constantly rushing from one crisis to the next. 4 In a hazy, half-awake state, I spent my first afternoon there. When I finally got up and looked out the window, the sky had already turned dark. Martha knocked on the door, calling me down for dinner. Right as I started eating, a tall, lean, and incredibly handsome teenage boy rushed into the dining room. “Young Master, why are you back so soon?” Martha looked shocked and hurriedly rushed over to greet him. I stared at the handsome boy under the chandelier, momentarily stunned. Even though it was our first time meeting, there was an undeniable familiarity to his face. I instantly guessed who he was. My older brother. I had heard Mrs. Vance mention before that I had an older biological brother, two years older than me. His name was Julian Vance. Mrs. Vance had looked apologetic, explaining that my brother was in Switzerland for an elite summer camp and couldn’t make it back in time to see me. She had emphasized: “Your brother was so incredibly excited when he heard we found you. He even picked out a gift for you. But the camp wouldn’t let him leave early, so he’ll have to meet you a little later.” I had nodded, expressing my understanding. Brother? That title felt very alien to me. But also very exciting. I’d heard that older brothers were usually very protective of their little sisters. Would he be like that? I felt another surge of anticipation. And now, my brother was standing right in front of me. I put down my fork, my hands balling into nervous fists. I hesitated, not knowing what my very first sentence to him should be. Should I just call him ‘brother’ right away? Would that seem too casual? But if I didn’t, would it seem impolite? While I was agonizing over it, Martha spoke up: “Young Master, you haven’t had dinner yet, have you? Perfect timing, you can eat with Miss Chloe.” “Chloe?” The boy seemed to finally notice I was there, his gaze sweeping over me. I gathered my courage, trying my best to smile naturally. “Hi, brother, I—” “Is Maya still at the hospital?” Julian interrupted me completely, looking directly at Martha. “Ah? Oh, yes.” Martha nodded. “But the Madam just called. She said Miss Maya is mostly fine now, and they should be home in an hour at the latest.” “Young Master, you should eat first. By the time you’re done, they’ll be arriving.” Julian immediately turned on his heel, taking large strides toward the front door. “I can’t wait. I need to see for myself that Maya is okay.” He was like a whirlwind. He arrived in a rush, and he left in a rush. After he left, I looked at Martha, staring blankly as I asked: “Who is Maya?” 5 “Miss Maya is the daughter the Mister and Madam adopted. She’s also the Madam’s biological niece.” Martha had originally only intended to give a brief summary. But perhaps the urge to gossip took over, and the more she talked, the more invested she got. I had absolutely no idea the Vance family had another daughter. They had never mentioned her to me. This girl named Maya was exactly my age, only two months older than me. She was the daughter of Mrs. Vance’s younger brother. When Maya was seven, her parents were killed in a tragic accident. During the car crash, her parents desperately shielded her with their bodies. At such a young age, witnessing the brutal death of her parents, the trauma was so severe that she stopped speaking completely. Psychiatrists diagnosed her with severe clinical depression. At that time, Mrs. Vance, who had lost her own daughter, felt a deep, empathetic connection with her traumatized niece. She brought the girl home, spent every day with her, and took her to countless specialists. While trying to heal Maya, she was also trying to save herself. Over time, the girl’s dependence on Mrs. Vance grew deeper and deeper. The two of them formed a profound emotional bond, mutually healing each other. As the days turned into years, Mrs. Vance and Maya slowly emerged from the shadows of their respective traumas. Their mental states gradually returned to normal. Maya even started speaking again. Reaching this point in the story, Martha couldn’t help but sigh: “These past few years have been incredibly difficult for the Madam and Miss Maya.” “To coax a smile out of them, the Mister and the Young Master have basically exhausted every trick in the book.” “When they finally started smiling again, that was when this house finally felt alive.” Saying this, she offered me a comforting look: “But now that you’re back, Miss Chloe, this family is truly complete. There are no more regrets.” “I am genuinely so happy for the Madam.” “Thinking back to those early years when she cried herself to sleep every single night… sigh, it’s better not to dwell on the past.” “Anyway, it’s nothing but good days from here on out.” Good days? I sat blankly at the dining table, staring straight ahead, feeling utterly lost in a fog of confusion. After finishing dinner, I sat on the sofa in the living room. Martha tried several times to persuade me to go upstairs, take a shower, and rest, but I refused. I stubbornly insisted on waiting for them to come home. Right around 10:00 PM, I finally heard noise outside. I looked over and saw several figures walking through the massive front doors. Mr. and Mrs. Vance, my biological parents, I recognized immediately. My brother, Julian, I had just met. But there was another girl with them, looking about my age. She looked incredibly frail and thin, her face paper-white. Mrs. Vance had her arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders. It was my first time in this strange new environment. I had spent the entire afternoon alone, and it was natural to feel timid and scared. Seeing familiar faces, I couldn’t stop myself from running toward them. I stood in front of Mrs. Vance, my eyes shining with joy, waiting for her to hug me. After all, just a few weeks ago, she had hugged me every single day, refusing to let go, looking terrified that someone might snatch me away again. But she didn’t hug me. Instead, she held the girl next to her even tighter and took a step back. She frowned, her tone laced with displeasure: “Watch where you’re going. Don’t bump into Maya. She has a weak constitution.” 6 Her expression made me feel like I was looking at a complete stranger. I glanced at Mr. Vance and Julian; both of them were looking at me with distinct disapproval. As if they were reprimanding me for being reckless. I felt completely paralyzed with awkwardness. I stood frozen in place, not knowing what to do. The three of them walked right past me, heading further into the house. I could see that Mrs. Vance’s eyes were entirely focused on the girl named Maya. She didn’t even spare me a glance out of the corner of her eye. Mrs. Vance helped Maya sit down on the sofa and instructed Martha: “Warm up a glass of milk for the Miss.” Mr. Vance and Julian crowded around her as well, their eyes full of concern. “Are you hungry? Do you want to eat something?” “Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere?” “Do you want to go back to your room and rest?” The girl named Maya slowly shook her head. “I’m okay now, Mom, Dad.” Oh. So she called them Mom and Dad directly. Oh. So during the years I was gone, they had already gotten another daughter. Then, Maya turned her head, looked at me, and blinked. “So this is Chloe, your biological daughter?” Her voice was incredibly airy and light, making her sound like she lacked the energy to even speak. Mrs. Vance’s gaze never left Maya. She answered casually: “Yes. She’s two months younger than you, so she’s technically your younger sister.” It sounded like she was introducing a completely irrelevant person. I stood there awkwardly, digging my fingernails into my palms. “Oh right, Maya, I brought you a gift from Switzerland.” Julian spoke up. “It’s that designer plushie you’ve been wanting. I’ll go get it for you right now.” He got up, opened his suitcase, pulled out an elaborately wrapped box, and handed it to the girl. “Thank you, Julian.” The girl opened it, her eyes lighting up with joy, her tone delighted. I suddenly remembered what Mrs. Vance had told me: “Your brother was so incredibly excited when he heard we found you. He even picked out a gift for you.” A bizarre, stubborn defiance flared up in my chest, forcing me to stand there rigidly. As if I were waiting for something. But I waited, and nothing came. After Julian handed over the gift, the three of them watched adoringly as the girl showed off the plushie, discussing its origins and backstory. It felt like two distinct force fields had formed in the living room. Them in one, me in the other. I couldn’t cross into their world. Watching them patiently humor the girl and her plushie, I silently turned around and walked upstairs. That night, hiding under the covers, my grievance morphed into an uncontrollable flood of tears. They soaked half my pillow. 7 I missed my mom and dad so much. I abruptly sat up in bed. I opened my suitcase. Inside lay a solitary smartphone box. My parents had promised me that if I scored in the top three of my entire school on the high school entrance exams, they would reward me with a smartphone. They hadn’t even had the chance to buy it before my biological parents showed up, throwing everything into chaos. Right before I left, my dad rushed out of the house. When he came back, he shoved a brand-new smartphone directly into my suitcase. “A promise is a promise. Mom and Dad always keep their word.” He also handed me a new SIM card. “This is a secondary line attached to my account. It’s never been used. You use this for now, and you can switch to a local Chicago number once you get settled.” I took the new phone out and popped the SIM card in. I knew my parents’ phone numbers by heart. I immediately dialed my mom’s number. When the call connected, I had barely managed to say, “Mom, it’s Chloe,” before the sound of a little boy wailing like a banshee erupted from the speaker. “Chloe Vance, where did you go?!” “I only went to Grandpa’s house for half a month, how could you just disappear when I got back?” “You promised if I got first place on my finals, you’d take me to the arcade! You’re a giant liar!” As he kept talking, his tone shifted from righteous indignation to pathetic whimpering. “Mom and Dad said you found your biological parents. Are you ever coming back, sis?” “I already miss you so much, sis.” “How could you be so cruel and just leave me?” The tears I had just managed to dry started falling all over again. “Chloe, it’s Mom.” My mom’s gentle voice came through the receiver. “Don’t listen to your brother, he’s just throwing a little tantrum. Tell me, you’re back now, your biological parents must be thrilled, right? What kind of delicious food did they make for you? Are you adjusting okay over there?” Hearing my mom’s familiar, soothing voice flowing into my ear, my tears—which had finally stopped—began falling in massive drops once more. When people feel wronged, the hardest thing to bear is hearing the voice of someone who truly cares about them. Because the grievance instantly magnifies tenfold. I fought back the sobs, covering the phone’s mouthpiece, taking deep breaths to force my emotions back under control. When I finally spoke again, the tremor was gone from my voice. “They’re treating me really well. The house here is huge and incredibly fancy. The food is great, and my bedroom is the pink color I love. I’m adjusting perfectly fine.” My mom’s anxiety finally seemed to dissipate. “That’s wonderful. Focus on your studies, and whenever you have time, come back and visit. Your room here will always be waiting for you.” “Mhm. Sounds good, Mom.” Right before we hung up, I could still hear my little brother complaining loudly in the background: “I wasn’t done talking yet!” After that phone call, I felt significantly better. The negative emotions that had been suffocating me—the grievance, the resentment, the discomfort—vanished in an instant. I felt like my energy had been fully restored. Lying in bed, I started to think rationally. Maybe the girl named Maya really was just in very poor health. She looked so frail, so pale, she clearly didn’t look healthy. Martha had also said they had just gotten back from the hospital. So Maya must have had a medical emergency, right? When a girl you’ve raised since childhood gets sick—a girl who is essentially your own daughter—it’s completely natural for the whole family to be anxious and focused on her. This just proves they are deeply emotional people. It doesn’t mean they are cold and heartless, right? Was I being too petty by holding onto this? 8 The next morning, after getting washed and dressed, I hummed a little tune as I went downstairs. Seeing the family gathered around the dining table, I flashed a massive, bright smile and greeted them loudly. “Good morning, everyone!” As for what to actually call them, I genuinely didn’t know how to open my mouth. Mom and Dad? I couldn’t bring myself to say it yet. However, calling him “Brother” felt doable. I looked at Julian and said loudly, “Good morning, Brother!” Maya, who was looking down and sipping her soup, froze. The porcelain spoon slipped from her hand and clattered onto the floor. The other three immediately rushed over to her in a panic. “Maya, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick again?” Maya’s expression looked like it was about to shatter, but she forced a brave, strained smile. “I was just startled hearing someone else call him ‘Brother.’ I’m just not used to it. I guess… I guess he’s not just my brother anymore.” The room plunged into dead silence. It took a long moment before Julian gently stroked the top of her head, comforting her softly: “Don’t worry. I’m your brother, and nobody is ever going to take me away from you.” Only then did Maya offer a genuine smile. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but sitting at that table, I felt incredibly uncomfortable. I just wanted to escape this awkward, suffocating situation as quickly as possible. After finishing my food, I put down my fork and practically sprinted upstairs to my room. Not long after, there was a knock at the door. I opened it. Julian was standing there. He spoke with an emotionless, flat tone: “From now on, don’t call me ‘Brother’ directly. Just call me Julian.” Perhaps seeing my bewildered expression, he cleared his throat and tried to explain. “Maya has a very weak constitution, and she’s extremely psychologically fragile. She can’t handle sudden shocks.” “You arriving so suddenly… she’s having a hard time processing it. Over time, as we all get used to each other, she’ll adapt.” “Okay, Julian.” I agreed obediently. He hadn’t been gone long when another knock came at the door. This time, it was Mr. and Mrs. Vance. They wore expressions of vague guilt and awkwardness. “Um, Chloe, as you can see, Maya is a very sensitive child.” “If you start calling us Mom and Dad, she—” “I understand.” I interrupted her with a smile. “I’ll just call you Mr. and Mrs. Vance!” Honestly, calling them Mom and Dad was something I couldn’t bring myself to do anyway. This saved me the trouble. Seeing me say this, they visibly relaxed. Mrs. Vance nodded approvingly. “I knew it. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were a very mature, understanding girl, Chloe.” She reached out, intending to pat me on the head. I instinctively took a step back, dodging her hand. A flash of hurt crossed her eyes. She froze for a second, but ultimately said nothing.

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My parents were terrified I’d never get married, so they told everyone I was a “Security Consultant.” It wasn’t until a blind date that I finally tied the knot with a covert domestic abuser. Six months into the marriage, my husband desperately tracked down the most elite security firm in the city to hire a bodyguard for his own protection. I pushed open the door to the consultation room, a massive, brilliant smile on my face: “I’d be thrilled to provide my services! The only thing is… my rates might be a little steep. Can you afford it?” 1 I got married when I was 26. I met him—Arthur Sterling—on a blind date. He was handsome, and his family had money. But it was two specific things that locked me in within the first ten minutes. We were both dating with the goal of marriage, so we put all our cards on the table. I told him upfront that I had absolutely zero intention of ever having kids. He just smiled and said he thought the DINK (Dual Income, No Kids) lifestyle was actually pretty great. Boom. Accepting that single condition eliminated 99% of the dating pool right there. He didn’t smoke, though he drank occasionally for networking events. Acceptable! During our conversation, his thoughts were incredibly clear, and his reaction time was sharp. IQ: Check! He was honest about having two serious ex-girlfriends. They broke up amicably, and he didn’t say a single negative word about either of them. He didn’t make me uncomfortable. EQ: Check! I was extremely satisfied. Right then and there, I asked him if he wanted to just skip the games and get married. Arthur was visibly stunned for a second. “That fast? Don’t you want to get to know each other a little more first?” I explicitly told him I was perfectly fine with it, and the final decision was entirely up to him. His looks made me happy. His money could solve 90% of my current problems. A high IQ meant I wouldn’t suffer from “idiot allergy,” and a high EQ meant he could buffer most external conflicts. With specs like that, what was there to nitpick? 2 The very next day, our families met at a nice restaurant. Arthur’s parents and his younger sister all showed up. The whole family was ridiculously good-looking. On my side, my older brother was out of state for work, but my parents, my sister-in-law, and my little nephew all dressed to the nines. During dinner, Mr. Sterling was charismatic and chatty. He constantly placed food on Mrs. Sterling’s plate, and Arthur smiled and agreed with everything. They looked like the picture-perfect, harmonious family. My sister-in-law was thrilled for me. She leaned in and whispered, “Seeing how loving his parents are, Arthur is definitely a good catch.” I just pursed my lips and smiled, saying nothing. A good catch? Not necessarily. I had noticed that several times when Mr. Sterling raised his hand to serve food, Mrs. Sterling couldn’t control a slight, involuntary flinch. I put down my fork and excused myself to the restroom. While I was touching up my makeup in the mirror, a thin, fragile silhouette appeared behind me. It was Arthur’s younger sister, Mia. Mia walked up to the sink next to me. Her eyes were dull, and her voice almost blended in with the sound of running water. “What exactly do you like about my brother?” “Mmm… it’s not really about ‘liking’ him. It’s just that our conditions match perfectly.” She turned off the faucet and looked me dead in the eye through the mirror. “My family isn’t as perfect as you think it is. If you become my sister-in-law, you are going to regret it.” I asked, “Drugs? Gambling? Prostitution?” She shook her head. I asked again, “Undisclosed medical conditions?” She shook her head again. I asked one more time, “Domestic violence?” All the color drained from her face for a split second. She didn’t answer, but the silence was deafening. I stopped looking at her and focused on the mirror, gently wiping a smudge of red lipstick from the corner of my mouth. In an instant, I projected an aura of fragile, tragic vulnerability. “I don’t think I’ll regret it. It’s just a transaction of mutual needs. But thank you for going out of your way to warn me.” 3 From the blind date, to meeting the parents, to the engagement, to getting the marriage license—it took Arthur and me less than a month. Both families handled the entire process immaculately. I didn’t have to lift a finger or stress about a single detail. All I had to do was show up when required and build some rapport with Arthur. Arthur was incredibly good at providing emotional value. He frequently took me out to amazing dinners, planned weekend getaways, and constantly surprised me with little thoughtful gifts. He even took care of my friends, getting them small presents too. He was gentle, refined, and perfectly calibrated. In that short month, every single person around me sang his praises. So when I casually mentioned that he had violent tendencies, everyone just assumed I was making a dark joke. But I was dead serious. It wasn’t until I moved in after the wedding that I realized something insane: in the massive, sprawling Sterling estate, they hadn’t hired a single maid or housekeeper. Every single dirty, exhausting chore in the house was shouldered by the women. Meanwhile, the men didn’t lift a finger, acting as if their mere existence as “the pillars of the family” was enough to hold up half the sky. And right now, the older “half the sky” was currently giving me a lecture. “Since you’ve married into this family, you are a Sterling now. A married daughter is like spilled water. You need to maintain proper distance from the Vance family from now on. Taking your maiden family’s side over ours is the ultimate taboo in this house.” “The Sterling family has its own culture and rules. Learn from your mother-in-law and behave properly. Don’t disappoint us.” I glanced over at my mother-in-law, who was rushing around the kitchen without a second to rest. Then I looked at the Sterling father and son, sitting perfectly upright at the dining table, waiting to be served. I nodded obediently. Then, I sat perfectly upright right next to them, waiting to be fed. My father-in-law’s satisfied expression instantly froze on his face. He aggressively cleared his throat a few times. I pretended to be completely deaf, intensely studying the floral pattern at the bottom of my empty bowl. Arthur finally looked up from his phone. He nudged my arm. “Be good. Go help Mom in the kitchen. In our house, women aren’t allowed at the table until the men give permission.” I almost rolled my eyes so hard they got stuck. What century were we in? Women didn’t even have the right to sit at the dinner table? My hands were itching. I had an overwhelming urge to flip the table. But then I realized I still needed it to eat off of later, so I held back. I controlled my hands, but I couldn’t control my feet. As I turned around, I covertly delivered a brutal, full-force kick to the leg of Arthur’s chair. Before he could even process what happened, he was splayed out spread-eagle on the hardwood floor, letting out a muffled groan of pain. I looked at my father-in-law with wide, innocent eyes. “Is performing such an exaggerated bow before dinner also a Sterling family rule?” My father-in-law glared at Arthur in utter disappointment and kicked him. “Get up! You can’t even sit in a chair properly! You’re an embarrassment!” 4 On the kitchen wall hung a small chalkboard detailing the daily menus. The Sterling men dictated their cravings, and the Sterling women washed their hands and made the soup. For example, today the Sterling father and son had requested a massive spread: Millet porridge, dry-fried green beans, potato and beef stew, and a cold daylily salad… To prepare such an elaborate breakfast, no wonder my mother-in-law had to be up at 4:30 AM. She smiled apologetically at me. “It’s just a coincidence they requested all these complex dishes today. Usually, if it’s Western breakfast, it’s much simpler.” “Did you cook at home before you got married? Do you recognize all these ingredients?” “I don’t cook, but I’m extremely familiar with the ingredients.” As soon as the topic came up, I perked up, rattling off information like an encyclopedia: “Green beans contain toxic proteins like saponins. If they aren’t cooked thoroughly, consuming them causes food poisoning within 1 to 5 hours. Mild symptoms are headaches and dizziness; severe symptoms are nausea, vomiting, and agonizing abdominal pain.” “Fresh daylilies contain colchicine. Once ingested, it oxidizes into a highly toxic compound that aggressively attacks the gastrointestinal and respiratory systems, causing severe poisoning.” “And potatoes. Look here, these green spots. They contain solanine, a toxic alkaloid. Once they sprout, the concentration of solanine in the buds, roots, and green or rotting areas spikes exponentially.” After I finished my TED talk, I realized the kitchen had fallen into an eerie, dead silence. My mother-in-law forced an awkward laugh to break the tension. “You… you certainly know a lot, dear.” “It’s nothing. Anyone who’s killed people knows this stuff. Many common foods can be turned into lethal weapons. What I just mentioned is child’s play. The real pros use the principles of food combining to poison someone without a trace. The perfect, undetectable murder.” “Mother-in-law, if you’re interested, we can research it together sometime? It’s just a shame I get so few practical opportunities. My parents never let me in the kitchen before I got married. Sigh!” I shook my head, looking profoundly disappointed. As I turned around, I saw my father-in-law standing in the kitchen doorway, his face the color of oxidized iron. “Forget it, you come out. You don’t know how to do anything, you’re just making a mess in there.” 5 I have to admit, my mother-in-law was a phenomenal cook. The presentation, the aroma, the taste—everything was perfect. It was just that Arthur and his dad were complete buzzkills. Even incredible food couldn’t shut their mouths. “The beef is a little tough today. Hard to chew. Remember to slow-cook it longer next time.” “The green beans are a bit bland. Not spicy enough, not enough kick.” My mother-in-law kept her eyes down submissively. “Understood. I’ll pay attention next time.” I sat on the sidelines, eager to jump in. “Next time, let me cook! I have a secret family recipe.” The table went dead silent again. But after only a few minutes, my father-in-law couldn’t help himself. He started a new topic, and this time, he targeted my career. “Since you’re married now, you need to quit your job. The Sterling family has always operated with the man handling the outside world and the woman managing the home. A woman showing her face in public every day is disgraceful. Our family doesn’t need that pathetic little salary of yours.” Arthur chimed in. “Yeah, exactly. Mom is getting older, and Mia is living in the dorms for college. We need someone at home to help out.” Tsk. These men really had two completely different faces before and after the wedding. They sounded so supportive before, but now they were insufferable. And I highly suspect they repeatedly brought up these topics today specifically to assert dominance and establish the hierarchy over me, the new daughter-in-law. I offered a direct solution: “Then let’s hire a housekeeper. The house is huge; doing this all alone is exhausting for Mom.” Who knew my father-in-law would literally throw his chopsticks at that suggestion? “Hire a housekeeper?! Men work themselves to the bone out in the world and never complain, but the people enjoying the luxury at home are suddenly too delicate?!” My mother-in-law, sitting next to him, was splashed with soup broth. She trembled violently, frantically trying to clean up the mess while speaking in a terrified whisper. “We don’t need a housekeeper. I can handle it myself. Elara just got here, she doesn’t know how things work. I’ll…” Before she could even finish, my father-in-law delivered a brutal backhand slap across her face. “When men are talking, women do not interrupt! If you had set a better example as a mother-in-law, would this brat who just walked through the door dare to be so disrespectful?” Oh, hell no. My temper instantly flared. I had planned to give everyone some basic respect since we were newly married, but this guy literally threw his dignity in the trash! I can tolerate my mother-in-law, but I will absolutely not tolerate this! Since I was full anyway, I stood up and flipped the entire dining table over. “ENOUGH! If you have something to say, say it to my face. There’s no need to beat around the bush and use her to attack me. If things not going your way is what you call ‘disrespectful,’ then the world is full of disrespectful people. I’m just one more to add to the list.” “And I’m genuinely curious: is the Sterling family running an animal testing facility? The second a perfectly good person walks through your doors, they’re supposed to become a beast of burden?!” 6 Arthur, who had been playing dead since the chaos started, finally came alive when I rebelled. “Elara Vance! How dare you speak to an elder like that?! My dad is just trying to teach you for your own good. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” I aggressively swatted away the finger he was pointing at my face. “I’m not drinking any of your toxic Kool-Aid! I married you; I didn’t sell myself to you. What gives you the right to demand I quit my job? I absolutely refuse!” The exact second the words left my mouth, Arthur threw his glass of ice water directly into my face. I tilted my head. “Ah~ So refreshing~” In stark contrast to the ice water on my face, my blood was beginning to boil. Anyone who knows me knows I am the textbook definition of “looks deceiving.” I look fragile and easily bullied, but in reality, I am an absolute apex predator in combat. Unfortunately, the Sterling family didn’t know me. So, when I reached out, grabbed the back of Arthur’s head, and violently smashed his face directly into the potato and beef stew that had spilled onto the floor, everyone was paralyzed with shock. Arthur was the first to react. He frantically clawed the mashed potatoes off his face and lunged at me to teach me a lesson. I was disgusted by the food debris covering him. In the split second he lunged, I grabbed his clean hand, executed a flawless shoulder throw, and followed it up with a brutal kick that launched him across the room. He lay on the floor, his face twisted in agony, unable to get up for several minutes. I pulled out my phone, snapped a quick photo, and then kindly asked them, “Do you need me to call an ambulance?” “Do you need to call the cops?” “Do you need to invite your friends and relatives over to mediate this dispute?” Arthur managed to grind out two words through clenched teeth: “No need!” My father-in-law’s face had gone completely pale. He pointed a trembling finger at me, his lips shaking so hard he couldn’t form a complete sentence for ages. I brushed the nonexistent dust off my clothes, took a few steps toward him, and flashed a perfectly elegant, dignified smile. “Does my esteemed father-in-law have any other Sterling family rules he’d like to discuss with me?” He started trembling even harder. Tsk. People are just evolved monkeys. Some are just begging to be put in their place! You try to reason with them, and they don’t listen. They literally have to be beaten into submission to behave. 7 When I arrived at the office, my boss, Jenna, was just heading out to meet a client. “Working this hard? You didn’t even take a honeymoon?” she asked. “A client specifically requested me. I figured I’d go assess the situation first. Since you’re heading out anyway, I’ll ride with you.” The client’s name was Sarah. She was 24, married for less than two years, and had a baby just over three months old. According to her file, the first time her husband beat her was during her third trimester. Because the baby was due any minute, and her husband cried and begged, swearing he would change, she forgave him. But domestic violence has only two settings: zero times, or infinite times. She suffered two more brutal beatings before finally making the ironclad decision to file for divorce. Currently, the couple was in their mandatory divorce cooling-off period. However, the husband had an extreme, volatile personality. He completely ignored the restraining order issued by the court, constantly harassing, threatening, and intimidating her. He had even forcibly kidnapped their baby. Sarah revealed the dark, mottled bruises covering her body. The last sliver of hope flickered weakly in her eyes. “There are exactly ten days left in our cooling-off period. I want a divorce, and I want my baby back. Can you help me?” We’ve met clients like this before, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last. According to national statistics from women’s advocacy groups, domestic violence occurs in roughly 30% to 35% of households. Over 90% of the victims are women. Every single year, domestic violence destroys hundreds of thousands of families. And when a child is involved, the situation becomes infinitely more complex. In some cases, the child becomes a shackle chaining the victim to their abuser; in other cases, the child becomes a weapon wielded by the abuser. Although the law explicitly prohibits the snatching and hiding of children, the current legal framework, judicial interpretations, and practical enforcement lack effective punitive mechanisms. The legal liabilities for snatching a child are frustratingly vague. This is the exact agonizing reality that leaves countless mothers feeling helpless and devastated.

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In my ultra-wealthy, old-money family, the biological daughter was finally found. My entire adoptive family sat around, waiting for me—the fake daughter—to have a total mental breakdown and fight for their love. Instead, I just efficiently packed my bags. “I can finally leave? Oh my god, thank you. Seriously, thank you.” The real daughter stared at me, completely bewildered. “You don’t… you don’t hate me?” I patted her on the shoulder. “Honey, do you have any idea what the rules are in this house? “6:00 AM mandatory morning run. 8:00 PM strict curfew. No speaking allowed while eating. All romantic partners must be vetted and approved by the family board…” Her face went pale, inch by inch. I gave a cheerful, dramatic wave. “Good luck, sis! I’m going to go pursue my freedom!” 01 My phone buzzed aggressively. I was currently at my desk at work, slacking off and playing a video game. The estate’s head butler calling me scared me so badly my hand jerked, and my character instantly dropped dead on the screen. “Miss Harper, your father requires you to return to the main estate immediately.” I sat up straight, glancing at the date on the bottom right corner of my computer monitor. My heart tightened. Is this it? Finally? “Arthur, is it…” “Yes,” the butler said, his tone grave. “Miss Stella’s DNA results came back. Your father has sent the security detail to pick her up.” I practically launched myself out of my office chair. My cubicle neighbor, Mia, was still immersed in her own game. Startled by my sudden movement, her eyes went wide. “Whoa, Harper! Did you hit the lottery or something? Why are you so happy?” “Better than the lottery!” I replied, shutting down my computer at lightning speed. I grabbed the little potted succulent from my desk and shoved it into my tote bag. “I’m finally getting my freedom!” “…Okay, but why are you stealing the company plant?” “I’ve been raising it for three years. We have an emotional bond.” Half an hour later, I was standing at the front doors of the Thorne family estate, taking a deep breath. This is the last time, Harper Thorne. Perform this final act perfectly, and you are free from this gilded cage! 02 I pushed open the massive mahogany doors. The atmosphere in the living room was so heavy you could cut it with a knife. My dad, my mom, and my older brother, Connor. The three of them sat on the pristine white leather sofa in a rigid, perfect triangle. A very stable shape, mathematically speaking. “Dad. Mom. Connor.” I greeted them politely, one by one, keeping my voice sweet and submissive. My gaze swept over the glass coffee table, landing on the DNA test report. I kept my expression perfectly neutral. Internally, I was doing backflips. I wondered which limited-edition designer bags I should pack in my suitcase tonight. My dad didn’t notice the joy vibrating right under my skin. He gave a tactical, awkward cough. “Harper, sit down. We have some news…” “I’m the fake daughter switched at birth, the real one has been found, and she’s on her way home right now, right?” I interrupted, cutting right to the chase. “Where is she? I’ll go out to the driveway and welcome her.” Dead silence filled the cavernous hall. They all looked like they had just swallowed a lemon. Connor narrowed his eyes at me. “Harper, are you okay? Did the shock break your brain?” He paused. “Look, if you want to scream and cry, just do it. Don’t hold it in.” “Harper, Mom knows you must be devastated…” “Stop! Both of you. I am perfectly fine,” I said, holding up my hands. “When is my new sister arriving? Does she need help setting up her room?” My dad’s brow furrowed tightly. “Harper, you… you aren’t sad? You know we still love you…” “Why would I be sad?” I blinked rapidly, putting on my best innocent act. “Having a sister is amazing!” Three pairs of eyes stared at me with profound suspicion. They clearly didn’t buy it. In the script they had written for this moment, I was supposed to: A. Break down in hysterical tears. B. Flip the coffee table in a rage. C. Faint dramatically. They had probably already planned on waiting for me to calm down before letting Stella in the front door. “Stella is back. Your status in this family…” Connor said darkly, waiting, almost hoping, for me to finally snap. Sorry to disappoint, big bro. I just kept blinking, refusing to take the bait. Nobody can use my emotions against me if I don’t have any to give them. 03 Connor let out a cold sneer. “Pathetic act.” Then, like a petulant child demanding a show, he gestured to the butler. The butler immediately led in a girl wearing a simple, faded white dress. She was biting her lip, her expression terrified and anxious. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. The moment I saw her face, I knew why the family had found her so easily. They didn’t even need a DNA test. She was the spitting image of my dad. I took a step forward. My family immediately tensed, their eyes darting between me and her like security detail waiting for an attack. I had to suppress a laugh. I walked deliberately slow, just to mess with them. Then, under their petrified gazes, I opened my arms wide. “Sister! Welcome home!” Stella froze, her eyes going round. She stammered, “You… you don’t hate me? I’m taking your place.” “Hate you? I can’t thank you enough!” Before I could say anything else to reassure her, a loud, theatrical wail erupted behind me. My mom threw herself forward like the lead actress in a soap opera, snatching Stella into a crushing hug. “My poor, suffering daughter!” My lip twitched. I silently sidestepped to give my dad and Connor space to join the performance. The four of them huddled together in a weeping mass. It was an Emmy-worthy display of family drama. I stood on the sidelines, watching their raw display of emotion. A tiny, fleeting sting of loneliness brushed against my heart. But it vanished quickly. I shook it off. While they were immersed in their sentimental reunion, I quietly backed away. I turned and bolted up the stairs, my movements swift and efficient as I started packing. The very first thing I did was pick up the book titled High Society Etiquette from my nightstand and chuck it straight into the trash can. Twenty minutes later, I appeared at the top of the stairs, dragging a massive suitcase. The expressions on my family’s faces instantly solidified into pure shock. “Harper Thorne! What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?!” Connor barked. “I’m just clearing space for my sister.” Stella stood to the side, looking utterly lost. “You don’t have to…” I saw how overwhelmed she was, so I patted her kindly on the shoulder. “Sweetie, do you know what the rules are in this house?” 04 She shook her head blankly. I started counting them off on my fingers. “Mandatory six AM morning runs. Strict eight PM curfews. No speaking allowed while eating. All romantic partners must be vetted and approved by the family board…” “Oh, right, I remember my very first date when I was seventeen. The family sent three bodyguards to follow us. They literally scared the poor guy so badly he transferred out of state the next day.” Her face went pale, inch by inch, and she looked at our parents with genuine terror. My mom interrupted me. “Harper! Stop scaring your sister!” “I’m not scaring her. I’m just listing the Tuesday schedule.” Connor was the quickest to react. He was the first to realize I was actually serious. He took a long stride, blocking my path. “You’ve been pampered and spoiled your entire life. Do you honestly think you can survive outside the Thorne estate?” I stopped and gave him a mysterious smile. “Connor, take a wild guess at how much secret slush-fund money I’ve saved up over the years.” “To be perfectly honest, right now, I just feel like thanking the heavens for finally setting me free.” Connor: “…” Stella grabbed the sleeve of my faux-fur jacket, tears welling in her eyes. “Sister, please don’t go…” I patted her head affectionately. “Be a good girl. You’re the sole hope of the dynasty now.” With that, I gave a cheerful, dramatic wave. I shoved my suitcase forward and walked out of the mansion without a single backward glance. “Good luck! I’m going to go pursue happiness!” Outside, my best friend Mia was waiting in her blacked-out SUV. Her jaw practically dropped when she saw my outfit. “Harper, are you running away to join a rock band?” I clattered down the driveway in my stilettos, breaking into a light jog. “This isn’t running away, it’s a jailbreak!” I buckled my seatbelt and yelled, “Go, go, go! Drive! Before they realize I’m actually leaving.” As the engine roared to life, I took one last look at the sprawling estate where I had spent over twenty years. I let out a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a supervillain. “I, Harper Thorne, am finally free!” Maybe it was my imagination, but as we drove away, I swore I heard my mom scream from the front door: “Stop her! She packed my vintage crocodile Birkin bag!!!” 05 “Alright, girl. Where are we going to celebrate?” Mia’s words reminded me of my new reality. Celebrate. Damn right. An event of this magnitude required a massive celebration. I excitedly rubbed my hands together. I pulled out the “Top 100 Things to Do After Escaping the Thorne Dynasty” note from my phone and passionately announced: “First stop: Greasy street-cart tacos! Second stop: The spiciest, cheapest ramen joint! Third stop: Late-night food truck burgers!” Outside the open windows, the wind rushed past. It carried the chaotic scents of the city, the smell of street food, the heavy aroma of fried onions and smoke. Back in the mansion, every single bite I ate was monitored by a private chef. Nothing that could make me gain weight. Nothing that could affect my complexion. Nothing with a strong smell was allowed. But now, I hung my head out the window and let out a triumphant cheer, screaming into the night sky: “Screw debutante etiquette! I’m going to eat whatever the hell I want!” “Okay, settle down. With your pampered, sensitive stomach, three bites of that street food and you’ll be in the ER,” Mia deadpanned, before adding meaningfully, “And besides, are you acting like Grayson Pierce doesn’t exist?” I instantly choked on my own laughter, my arrogant energy vanishing like smoke. Grayson Pierce. That name was like a bucket of ice water poured directly over my head. Mia saw my silence and clicked her tongue. “What? Scared now?” I forced a smile. “I’m not scared. But the engagement is a core exchange of business interests between two empires. The only reliable partner is a biological daughter. Who the hell am I in this scenario?” It was smarter to just proactively create some distance. “Please. You two grew up together. Grayson, to you…” “You’re overthinking it,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s a business arrangement. He’s cold and ruthless. He doesn’t care if his fiancé is Harper Thorne, Stella Thorne, or even my brother Connor, as long as they represent the Thorne family.” Who was Grayson Pierce? At sixteen, he was already forcing veteran negotiators to break into a cold sweat at the boardroom table. At twenty, he took over the family business, and his methods were so brutal they terrified the entire corporate world. He was the undisputed king of the business elite. Feelings were probably the least valuable commodity to him. I thought about it, my heart breaking just a little bit. “He used to be my fiancé, but now he’s just going to be my brother-in-law.” 06 The next day, I woke up around noon with a massive hangover. It felt like a freight train had parked on my skull. I groggily dragged myself out of bed. The sun was blindingly bright outside. I squinted at my phone—1:30 PM. Perfect. I had successfully slept through breakfast and lunch. Classic me. My phone was saturated with notifications from Mia’s text bombing: “Well? How was it? Was last night with Grayson enjoyable? Did you guys unlock any new locations? On the bed? On the sofa? In front of the mirror? Against the floor-to-ceiling windows? “Don’t thank me. I know you’ve been thirsting after his body for years, so it was only natural you couldn’t control yourself~” [Winking emoji.gif] “And honestly, Grayson looks incredible in a suit. I kinda want to bury my face in his chest, too.” ? What Grayson? What is she talking about? I rubbed my temples violently, trying to mine any shred of memory from the blackout, but my mind was a total void. I scrolled down to find one last notification. It was a video. The moment I clicked play, I almost threw my phone across the room. … In the video, my face was flushed red, my eyes were unfocused, and I was standing on a plastic folding chair outside a food truck. I was staring up at the night sky at a dramatic angle, looking incredibly moody, taking a loud sip from a juice box. Then, I spoke with profound seriousness: “Mia, you need to remember this—love will betray you, but cheesecake never will.” Mia’s voice came from off-camera, dripping with disdain: “? Speak English.” In the video, I dramatically pointed a single finger at the camera lens. With my other hand, I slowly pulled a snowy white chef’s hat from my tote bag and solemnly placed it on my head. My voice was funereal: “The old Harper Thorne is dead. “Standing before you now is the new and improved Harper— “The woman who is going to make sure this entire city has to wait three hours in line for her signature cheesecake!” Mia’s laugh was so violent the camera shook uncontrollably. “Haha, you total dork… wait!” Her voice suddenly cut off. “Look behind you…” In the video, I scoffed, not even bothering to look back. “Nice try. Last time we went to the club, you used the exact same…” The next second, the Harper in the video froze completely. Because in the lens, a long, pale, elegant hand had reached out and rested on my shoulder. In the video, I turned my head drunkly, locking eyes with a familiar pair of calm, slightly resigned eyes. It was Grayson Pierce. 07 Grayson Pierce was dressed in a perfect, tailored suit, his tie flawlessly knotted. He looked utterly out of place amidst the chaos and grease of the late-night food truck lot. And there I was, standing on a plastic chair, wearing a chef’s hat, waving around a juice box. The air in the video seemed to solidify. The Harper in the video blinked, then suddenly burst into a massive grin and poked him in the cheek. “Huh? Why would Grayson Pierce appear in a place like this? Am I dreaming…” I leaned in close to Grayson, squinting at him through a drunken haze. “But why is this Grayson Pierce so cold? He isn’t even smiling…” As I spoke, I suddenly grabbed his face with both hands and forced the corners of his mouth upwards— Manually giving him a “smile.” I had pushed his expensive glasses completely askew. Behind the lenses, the calm, unperturbed eyes actually widened in shock, his long lashes fluttering. The video cut off. Me: “…” My phone clattered onto the bed. I slid out of bed and onto the floor, burying my face in my hands, letting out a scream of pure despair. “Just kill me—” Just as I was contemplating how to gracefully fake my own death, my phone rang again. Caller ID: [The Iceman] I scrambled to pick up the phone, my voice trembling with guilt. “H-hello??” On the other end of the line, his voice was low, carrying a hint of exhaustion I couldn’t quite place: “You’re awake?” “Y-yeah, I’m awake…” I was reduced to a terrifying puddle of nerves. “Head hurt?” “I’m… I’m okay…” “Okay. The kitchen is on the second floor of my place. The housekeeper prepared some hangover soup for you.” Your place? I suddenly realized something. I looked around the room. It was a strange bedroom, decorated in an extremely minimalist black, white, and grey style. There was a half-finished iced Americano on the nightstand. This was Grayson Pierce’s bedroom! “Wait! Why am I at your house?” 08 There was a silence on the other end for about two seconds. “Last night you drank too much. You threw up all over me, and you got your own clothes dirty. “I said I would take you back to the Thorne estate, but you grabbed a streetlamp and refused to let go, saying, ‘I am never going back there, even if I die.’ “And then you grabbed my sleeve and asked me if I would run away with you, and asked if I was willing…” Me: “…” “Mia seemed to remember she had some kind of emergency. She took her car keys and left immediately, looking like she had made a solemn vow.” “So, I had no choice but to bring you back to my place.” My toes were already curling so hard I could have dug a trench in the hardwood floor from pure embarrassment. “So… so nothing happened, right? Like, nothing… nothing, or we didn’t do anything we shouldn’t have, right?” “…You don’t remember any of it?! Last night you…” His tone sounded genuinely incredulous, but he cut himself off halfway through the sentence. My heart rate instantly spiked to 180. A million explicit scenarios flashed through my mind. On the bed. On the sofa. In front of the mirror. Against the floor-to-ceiling windows. We… couldn’t have actually… done it… right? Harper Thorne, this is your future brother-in-law! You are an absolute animal! “I remember, I remember! It’s just… maybe I don’t remember… everything…” I gave a couple of dry chuckles, trying to hide the fact that I remembered absolutely nothing. From the receiver, I heard the sound of a fountain pen tapping on a desk. Tap—tap—tap— each one hitting my tightening nerves. A moment later, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh came from the other end: “Harper.” “Here!” I snapped, reacting automatically, standing up straight like a soldier at roll call. “You said yesterday…” He paused. “You wanted to open a bakery?” My heart skipped a beat. “Y-yeah…” “Do you need an investor?” I immediately waved my hands frantically, even though he couldn’t see me. This little business didn’t need investment. I had already done the math. With the cash I had saved up over the years, plus the money I would get from selling the designer bags I snagged from the house, I had more than enough to lease a commercial space! “No, no, I’m good. I have the money. Just make sure you come to my shop and support my business!” “Okay,” he agreed readily. “On opening day, I’ll be there.” My eyes lit up. That’s a giant cash cow walking right into my shop! On the other end of the line, Grayson watched the city skyline from his office, a faint chuckle escaping him, his voice laced with a strange, unspoken joy. However, right before the conversation was about to end, he suddenly said something completely out of nowhere: “What if I said I was willing?” Me: “Huh?” “…Nothing.” His voice instantly returned to its usual icy calm, as if that fleeting moment of vulnerability had been entirely my imagination. “Get some rest.”

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My husband told me to stop suffocating him. He said I should go find other men to occupy my time. Being the obedient wife I am, I went out and found three. Later, those three men demanded I make a choice and commit to them. So, being obedient once again, I asked my husband, Elias, for a divorce. But suddenly, Elias claimed he was madly in love with me. He fought the divorce tooth and nail. He actually cried while washing my underwear, pleading with me. “You can bring them here. The five of us can live together as one family. But divorce? Absolutely not!” So, I listened to Elias and didn’t get a divorce. And I brought all three of them home to live with us. I’m just an obedient woman. What did I do wrong? 1 In the seventh year of loving Elias Thorne, I finally married him. Just as I was filled with joy, ready to be the perfect wife, Elias cheated. He made the trending tabloids kissing a hot young A-lister. Looking at the photos felt like being struck by lightning. I went to him, crying, demanding answers. But he just looked at me with pure annoyance. “Alana, don’t you have anything better to do with your life? Is hovering over me every single day supposed to be fun? Tell you what—why don’t you go find some guys to play around with, and stop bothering me, okay?” I stared at Elias, utterly dumbfounded. The words coming out of his mouth were horrifying. How could I just go out and randomly find men to “play around” with? But I had always been obedient. So, I sought out Elias’s best friend, Bennett St. James. 2 Bennett St. James. The man the entire elite business circle feared and respected. Rumor had it he was cold, completely detached from worldly desires, and never let women get close to him. My hands were shaking as I typed the text. I wrote it and deleted it, over and over. Finally, I just sent: “Mr. St. James, do you have time to meet? Elias told me to… find someone to play with.” After sending it, I threw my phone across the room, my cheeks burning with shame. Elias’s best friend shouldn’t count as just a “random guy,” right? I just didn’t know if he would agree… Surprisingly, my phone buzzed almost immediately. Just one word: “Yes.” The location was a very secluded, high-end tea house. When I arrived, Bennett was already there. He sat by the window. The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting light over his handsome, aristocratic face, making him look even more aloof and unattainable. His long, slender fingers held a teacup. The steam rose gently, blurring his striking features. The air was filled with a calming scent of sandalwood mixed with the aroma of tea. I was so nervous I was practically shaking. I sat opposite him, my throat dry. Every word I had prepared vanished from my mind. He looked up at me, his eyes calm as a still pool, utterly unruffled. “He told you to come to me?” Bennett asked after pouring me a cup of tea. His voice was beautiful, too. Like cool, crisp water over stones. I twisted my fingers together, lowering my head. My nose stung, and I nodded vigorously. “Yes.” Silence stretched across the room. Just as I felt I couldn’t sit there any longer and wanted to bolt, he set his teacup down gently and looked at me. “When you say ‘play around’… what kind of playing did you have in mind?” 3 Bennett St. James. The man who looked so cold and detached in public actually tried to ride me to death in private. “I really can’t do anymore, please…” I was slumped on top of him, completely exhausted, my face buried in his firm chest, my body trembling. Bennett’s thumb gently wiped away the involuntary tears from the corner of my eye. He coaxed me softly, “Okay. We’ll stop after we finish this box.” Hearing Bennett’s tender voice, I lifted my head, my vision blurry with tears, and glanced at the nightstand. On the nightstand was a box labeled “Trojan, 12-pack, Magnum Size.” I looked down at the trash can. There were already five used ones inside. That meant there were still… “Ugh, you jerk!” I cried even harder. 4 Bennett frequently worked me over until my back ached and my legs felt like jelly. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore and secretly went to see a doctor. The doctor took my pulse, his frown deepening by the second. Finally, he sighed. “Young lady, you need to practice abstinence. Get some real rest for a while, or you’re going to shorten your lifespan.” Me: !!! What!! Doing it too much leads to an early grave?! I was terrified. I didn’t dare go see Bennett again. But since I didn’t go to him, he came to me. He actually showed up at the house I shared with Elias! When the doorbell rang, I was curled up on the sofa watching a reality show. Assuming Elias had gone out and forgotten his keys, I opened the door without checking. The moment I saw Bennett standing outside, I nearly slammed the door right back in his face. “What… what are you doing here?” My voice trembled. I instinctively tried to close the door. Bennett reached out and blocked the door frame. His strength wasn’t overwhelming, but I couldn’t move the door an inch against him. His gaze landed on my panicked face. He asked, “Why haven’t you come by to ‘play’ lately?” Play? You play so hard, who would dare to play with you?! “I… I’ve been a bit busy lately.” My eyes darted around, making up random excuses. “Busy?” Bennett raised an eyebrow slightly. He took a step forward, pressing into my space. The crisp scent of sandalwood combined with an oppressive aura washed over me. “Too busy to even answer your phone?” He forced me backward into the foyer, my heart pounding in my chest. The doctor’s warning about “shortening your lifespan” echoed wildly in my mind. “Mr. St. James, I really don’t think… this is appropriate,” I said, drumming up the courage to try and reason with him. “What happened that day was impulsive on my part. We should really…” “We should really what?” he interrupted. His gaze was calm, but held an undeniable weight. “Elias told you to play, remember? You’ve forgotten?” Mentioning Elias made me deflate instantly, like a popped balloon. That’s right. Elias made me do this. How could I not listen to him? But… I really was afraid of dying! Just as I was at a complete loss for words, Elias’s confused voice came from behind me. “Bennett? What are you doing here?” 5 Elias hadn’t gone out?! My soul nearly left my body. I spun around so fast I nearly tripped, my cheeks burning with guilt. I felt exactly like I’d just been caught in bed with another man. Bennett, however, remained completely composed. He turned to look at Elias coming down the stairs, his voice calm and flat. “Just passing through. Thought I’d swing by and check on you. I was just chatting with Alana at the door.” As Bennett spoke, his gaze drifted meaninglessly over to me. My spine went rigid instantly. Elias didn’t seem to sense anything was wrong. As he walked downstairs, he said casually, “What’s there to chat with her about? She just sits at home doing nothing all day.” Before, hearing those words would have made me sad for a long time. But now, my heart was filled only with panic, terrified that Bennett would say something outrageous. Bennett didn’t reply. He just looked at me, the corner of his lip seemingly curving into an extremely faint smirk that vanished instantly. Elias finished changing into his shoes and walked over. He naturally wrapped his arm around my waist and said to Bennett, “My brother is back in town. Since you’re here, why don’t we all grab dinner tonight? I’ll call Ryder Croft and some of the others.” My body went stiff. The spot where Elias touched me felt like it was on fire. He rarely made affectionate gestures toward me in front of others, yet today… Bennett’s gaze lingered on Elias’s hand around my waist for a fraction of a second before he looked away. He replied flatly, “Sure.” 6 Dinner was at an incredibly exclusive, private club. Besides me, Elias, and Bennett, there was also their good friend, the wealthy playboy Ryder Croft, and Elias’s younger brother, Liam Thorne. During the meal, I constantly felt like three separate sets of eyes from different directions were locked onto me. But every time I lifted my head, the four men across from me were chatting amongst themselves. No one was looking at me. Was I being too sensitive? I peeked at them again. No one was looking. I must be overthinking. I lowered my head and went back to my soup. When I finished my soup and was about to ladle another bowl, a bowl of hot soup was placed right in front of me. It was Elias. He was ladling the soup for me while chatting with the others. I was genuinely touched. I said sweetly, “Thanks, honey.” My voice was soft. Only Elias, sitting next to me, should have heard. But the other three men at the table stopped talking instantly. All of them stared straight at me. The look in their eyes… it was as if they were the ones I’d just called “honey.” And their gazes were terrifying. Like wolves looking at prey. I recoiled slightly and went back to lowering my head and sipping my soup. Elias seemed very pleased that I called him “honey.” He got even more attentive, peeling shrimp for me and putting food in my bowl. Seeing the other three looking at me from time to time, Elias even teased them, “Jealous that I have a wife? You guys need to step up and marry one of your own.” Ryder and Liam said nothing. But I noticed they were looking at me even more frequently! Only Bennett let out a somewhat wistful, faint chuckle. “I’d like to marry, but she already has a husband.” The second Bennett said that, the whole room went silent. I nearly fell out of my chair in shock. He couldn’t possibly be talking about me, could he?! Elias reacted first. His handsome brow furrowed slightly, and he reached out to steady me. “How are you so grown and still can’t sit straight in a chair?” Turning back to Bennett, he teased, “Alright, smart guy, so you’re chasing a married woman. Who cares if her husband agrees? As long as she agrees, isn’t that enough?” Elias slapped Bennett on the shoulder encouragingly. “Take it from me—no matter how sturdy the wall, a good sledgehammer can knock it down!” At Elias’s words, Bennett gave him a very meaningful look and stated with certainty, “You’re right, Elias.” Ryder and Liam also nodded in thoughtful agreement. Then they raised their glasses, called Elias “brother,” and toasted him. Elias happily accepted, even pulling me closer by my shoulder, laughing as he bragged to me about how the three of them finally got some sense and decided to call him “brother.” I forced out a smile, not daring to speak. Because I realized that underneath the table, three different legs were rubbing against me! 7 When dinner was almost over, Elias stepped out to take a call. I felt like a massive weight had been lifted. I immediately bent down to look under the table. Underneath, the three men and their six legs were all behaving perfectly. Me: ? Was I being too sensitive again? But the touch had felt so real. It didn’t seem like my imagination. While my mind was spiraling with wild thoughts, Bennett suddenly peeled a few pieces of shrimp and put them in my bowl. He said, “Eat the shrimp. I saw you liked it earlier.” Bennett’s single sentence drew Ryder and Liam’s attention directly to us. Their eyes darted back and forth between me and Bennett. Just as I started breaking out in a cold sweat, fearing they’d figured something out, Ryder was the first to act. He put a piece of fish in my bowl, smiled, and said, “I saw you go for the sweet and sour fish six times. You must really love it.” Me: ? Why did he even know how many times I took the fish? Before I could react, Liam placed a small plate in front of me. On it was all the meat from a single, perfectly butchered crab. “Eat mine,” Liam said with an innocent, harmless smile. “If you like it, I’ll peel all your crabs for you from now on.” Me: … What was happening? I seriously felt like I had fallen into a wolf’s den. 8 The three of them seemed to be competing to see who could give me more food. My bowl was never empty for even a single second. Eventually, I really couldn’t eat anymore. Since Elias had been gone to the restroom for a long time, I was worried he’d fallen in, so I got up and went out to look for him. After leaving the private room, I felt much more relaxed. I searched for Elias along the hallway. When I saw Elias out on the patio, and saw the lipstick mark on his white shirt, tears immediately poured down my face. “Why are you doing this to me?” I choked out, confronting Elias. “I did everything you told me to do. I was so obedient. And you still have to go fooling around behind my back.” I didn’t understand what I had done wrong. Was it that I still wasn’t obedient enough? Seeing me cry, Elias’s initial instinct was to reach out and wipe my tears. But for some reason, he stopped halfway. The pained expression on his face turned into annoyance. “It’s not what you think. And didn’t I tell you to stop smothering me? If you’re bored, go out and find a bunch of guys to play with. Use my credit card!” With that, he turned and left. I stubbornly called out after him, “If I listen to you, will you love me?” “Yes!” Elias snapped without looking back. I was left standing there, staring at his retreating back. So, it really was because I wasn’t obedient enough that my husband didn’t love me. As I walked back, lost in despair, someone suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a pitch-black supply closet. I immediately screamed and burst into tears. “Don’t cry. It’s me.” In the darkness, Ryder wiped away my tears, sounding deeply pained. When you can’t see, your hearing becomes sharper. Listening to Ryder’s voice, I stopped crying instantly. His voice was deep and resonant. It sent a shiver down my spine. Inevitably, I remembered what Elias had just said. He told me to go out and find a bunch of guys to play with. I was very obedient. So, with a bit of a sob in my voice, I asked Ryder, “Can you… can you play with me?” “Do you… do you have any idea what you’re saying?” In the darkness, Ryder’s voice grew even huskier. “Mm-hm.” I sniffed. Seeing that Ryder wasn’t reacting, I started to backtrack. “If you don’t want to play with me, I’ll go find…” Everything I was about to say was swallowed by Ryder’s lips. He was wild, just like his name. I could barely handle it, but it felt amazing. Just as we were about to hit the point of no return, Ryder suddenly stopped. “Hmm?” I was completely dazed, looking at him in confusion. “I don’t have a condom.” Ryder leaned down, burying his head in the crook of my neck, breathing heavily. I wanted to cry, but no tears came. The arrow was already notched, and now you’re telling me we have to stop? My whole body was wound tight and aching. I rubbed against Ryder, my voice trembling like I was about to cry. “But… I feel so uncomfortable…” After three seconds of silence, Ryder sank down to one knee. My breath caught. Suddenly, I felt like a song was playing in my head. … A විශේෂ Signal… Pushing toward a Flood… No escape… … 9 Half an hour later, I walked out of the supply closet with Ryder, my ears burning bright red. “Here. Wipe your mouth and hands.” I whispered, handing Ryder a tissue, my face scarlet. Just as Ryder was about to take the tissue, a dark, harsh voice suddenly rang out from nearby. “What are you two doing?” I instinctively looked up and saw Liam. He stood at the end of the hallway, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable in the dim light. Those eyes, so similar to Elias’s, were locked tightly onto us—specifically on my obviously swollen lips and flushed cheeks. My heart immediately jumped into my throat. “No… nothing…” I instinctively crumpled the tissue in my hand and hid it behind my back. I said softly, “I just happened to run into Ryder…” Ryder was much calmer than me. He naturally pulled his hand back and slid it into his pocket. He took half a step sideways, unobtrusively shielding me with his shadow. He faced Liam’s scrutinizing gaze, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. “Just chatting. Why, is something wrong, Liam?” Liam took two steps forward. His eyes darted between the two of us before settling on my dodging gaze. “Nothing.” He pulled at the corner of his mouth, but the smile held no warmth. “Alana, it’s late. I’m taking you home.” “Oh, okay. Let’s go.” I didn’t think twice. I was about to follow Liam, but Ryder beat him to the punch, grabbing my arm. He chuckled lightly, looking at Liam. “Liam, you just got back to the States. You probably don’t even have a valid driver’s license here yet, do you? How are you going to take her?” I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but I felt like the atmosphere between Liam and Ryder instantly became hostile after that sentence. “It’s fine. I can call a cab for her.” Liam opened his thin lips, his gaze icy as he stared at Ryder. Ryder let out a low scoff. “Little boy, wait until you grow up.” With that, Ryder ignored Liam’s reaction and pulled me away. I looked back at Liam once. He stood still, not chasing after us. He just watched me with a gaze so complex I couldn’t understand it. I saw indignation, ambition, and even a faint trace of… vulnerability? 10 Ryder drove a Rolls-Royce Cullinan. It was incredibly spacious. I was exhausted and fell asleep in the car. Hazy in my sleep, I think Ryder stopped the car once to buy something. But I was so tired I didn’t pay much attention. By the time the car came to a complete stop, I was gradually waking up. I was home. Just as I unbuckled my seatbelt to get out, Ryder grabbed my hand. He held up a small box and asked, “Want to finish what we started earlier?” … This time, the song played on repeat for four hours. By the time everything finally settled, Ryder straightened my clothes, got out of the car first, and walked around to my side to carry me out. Just then, we heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. It was Elias. He was completely wasted. His assistant was struggling to help him out of the back seat after parking the car. “Urgh… Ryder?” Seeing Ryder, Elias squinted to identify him. His voice was slurred. “Wha’re you doin’ at my house?” Ryder appeared perfectly natural. “Just dropped Alana off.” Elias was so drunk he didn’t even notice that five hours had passed since dinner. He slapped Ryder on the shoulder, moved by gratitude. “Tha-thanks, bro. Dropping off my wife. You’re… you’re a good man!” I got out of the car a step late. Hearing that sentence made the scarlet flush rise on my face again. I was too guilty to look anyone in the eye. “It was nothing.” Ryder smiled with airy indifference, as if the man who had lost all control in the car minutes ago wasn’t him. “Alright, well, go on home then.” Elias staggered a couple of steps. He leaned heavily against me, throwing his arm over my shoulder for support. “I’ll treat you to dinner sometime!” With that, Elias stumbled into the house, dragging me with him. I didn’t even have a chance to look back at Ryder before the door was closed. 11 It took every ounce of strength I had to haul Elias up to the bedroom and onto the bed. He must have been incredibly drunk. The moment he hit the mattress, he fell fast asleep. He only mumbled incoherently, “Baby… I love you so much…” Hearing his words, I was genuinely touched. It really was true: if I listened to him, he loved me more. I secretly made a vow in my heart. I had to be even more obedient from now on, so he would love me even more! 12 When I woke up the next morning, the space next to me was empty. Elias was already gone. I instinctively reached for my phone to check the time. It was after 10 AM. Then I realized Bennett had sent me a ton of messages yesterday. Bennett: [Where are you?] Bennett: [Did you just leave with Ryder?] Bennett: [Is it because you aren’t satisfied with me?] Bennett: [You can tell me if you aren’t satisfied. Just don’t stop playing with me, okay?] … Bennett sent dozens of messages. The further down I read, the more they made my face burn and my heart pound. I didn’t dare reply to any of them. Exiting the chat with Bennett, I saw that Ryder had also sent me messages. He told me to drink lots of water and stay hydrated. He also sent me ten million dollars via Venmo. After freshening up, I went downstairs, still in my pajamas. As I walked downstairs, still half-asleep, I suddenly froze and stared at the living room. Liam was sitting on the sofa, holding a coffee cup, casually watching TV. He looked so comfortable, as if he belonged there. He even greeted me naturally. “Liam? What are you doing here?” I asked in astonishment. Liam gave me a sunny, innocent smile. “I just got back to the States. I’m scared to live alone, so when Elias found out, he told me to move in here.” “M-move in?” I was utterly confused. “Yeah.” Before I could react, Liam put down his coffee cup, stood up, and walked toward me. At 19, Liam was wearing a white button-down shirt. He looked fresh and clean. He walked right up to me and looked down at me, his eyes filled with a trace of pitiful pleading. “Is嫂嫂 (Alana) not happy I’m here?” “I…” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t think I was imagining it, but I felt like the way he looked at me wasn’t quite right. I felt uneasy about him moving in. Just as I was at a complete loss for words, Liam spoke again, his face filled with sorrow. “If Alana finds it inconvenient, I’ll go back to the family estate and live by myself! I’ve been used to being alone ever since my parents divorced and sent me abroad, anyway.” After Liam finished speaking, his puppy-dog eyes were red-rimmed. He looked at me, his voice choking slightly. “I’m sorry, Alana. I’m causing you trouble. It’s my fault. I just crave family affection so much.” Seeing Liam so utterly heartbroken and fragile, any trace of doubt or awkwardness I had was immediately swamped by a massive wave of guilt and pity. What bad intentions could he possibly have? He was just a pitiful child who wanted to live with his family! Elias told me to take good care of him, so how could I push him away just because I was being sensitive? I immediately reached out and stopped him from dragging his suitcase away. I said urgently, “You are not leaving! You live here! This is your home!” “Thanks, Alana!” Liam smiled instantly. His eyes sparkled, and all traces of sadness vanished without a trace. “You’re the best!” Just as we were talking, Elias rushed through the door. “Why are you back at this hour?” I asked. Elias looked stressed and overwhelmed. He was rushing up the stairs to his office, talking as he went. “There’s a sudden crisis with the major overseas project. I have to fly out immediately to fix it.” Five minutes later, Elias ran downstairs with a stack of documents. “Brother.” Liam called out to him. Elias only just noticed Liam, but he didn’t have time for specifics. He offered a quick greeting and headed for the door. Before leaving, he said to me, “Alana, take good care of Liam while I’m gone. I’ll be back in about a month. When I get back, we need to talk…” Elias was talking as he bolted out the door.

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Here is the thing about amnesia: it really messes with your perspective. Apparently, before the accident, I was the resident mean girl. A real piece of work. I found out via group text. I sent out a blast to my contacts: [Hey guys, super awkward, but I have amnesia. Who are you again…?] My phone immediately started blowing up. First, from my childhood best friend, the brooding, untouchable type I apparently used to torment: [Is this some twisted new game to torture me? I left dinner downstairs. Make sure you eat.] Next, from my overly protective stepbrother, whom I used to treat like dirt: [Are you still mad at me? I wired some allowance to your card. I’ll come home to keep you company tonight.] Finally, from the gorgeous, popular girl I apparently lived to harass: [Acting again? If you have amnesia, go back to sleep. I already signed you in for class.] Me: “?” Hold on. Did I misremember my own life? Based on these texts, I was living in some reverse-harem romance novel where everyone secretly adored me. 01 Doctors and nurses hurried back and forth in the hospital room, the air thick with the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant. I propped myself up, wincing as a wave of dizziness washed over me. A few feet away, a doctor was talking to a middle-aged man in a sharp suit. “How is she doing?” “Miss Davis’s amnesia isn’t too severe. She just seems to have forgotten certain specific people…” Listening to their conversation, I froze. Amnesia? How could I have amnesia? “I don’t think I have amnesia!” I couldn’t help but interrupt. “I know my name is Harper Davis. My dad is Richard Davis, and my mom is Margaret.” The middle-aged man turned his head and asked me with a gentle, patient tone, “Then do you remember who I am, Miss?” I nodded quickly. “Of course, you’re our family’s butler, Mr. Thomas.” The man remained silent for a long moment, his expression complicated. “Miss… I’m your family’s driver. And my name isn’t Thomas. I’m George.” Me: “?” He sighed and turned back to the doctor. “Thank you for your hard work, Doctor. I’ll go contact her parents.” From their brief exchange, I learned that I had accidentally tumbled down the stairs at the campus library. After passing out, my classmates had rushed me to the hospital. When they left the room, I finally snapped out of my daze and started scrolling through my phone. Looking at the pinned contacts at the top of my messages, if it weren’t for my parents’ familiar numbers, I would have sworn I picked up a stranger’s phone. A contact saved as “Coldhearted Monster” happened to send two messages right then. [Be downstairs in thirty minutes to pick up your food.] [I’m too lazy to bring it up to your door.] I racked my brain but couldn’t recall who this guy was. I could only ask him: [Could you please buy me lunch?] He replied quickly, but every word felt sharp enough to cut. [Buying the princess her lunch is my literal duty.] [But next time, could you tell me in advance if you want food from off-campus?] [Otherwise, standing in line for thirty minutes really delays your dining schedule.] Wow. This guy was charming. But now wasn’t the time to eat. I quickly replied: [Never mind, I’m not eating today.] The other side went silent for a while. Even though I couldn’t see his face through the screen, I could feel a faint sense of anger radiating from his texts. [Is it because the breakfast I brought you this morning wasn’t to your taste?] [So you’re throwing a tantrum again, is that it?] I hurriedly explained: [No, I promise. I have amnesia T_T.] He mocked: [Is this the princess’s new trick to torture me?] Me: “?” Was I really that awful? Afraid he wouldn’t believe me, I sent him a picture. [I’m really not lying. Look, I’m still lying in a hospital bed.] For a long time, there was no reply. I guessed he had either fainted from anger or was just too lazy to deal with me. I started scrolling through our chat history. This “Coldhearted Monster” routinely helped me pick up food, grab my packages, and buy me lattes. Sometimes, he even took orders to do my assignments and let me copy his answers for exams. But my attitude towards him was far from friendly. I always spoke to him in a bossy, commanding tone. A wave of guilt washed over me. How could I talk to a classmate like that? “Harper—” The hospital room door was suddenly pushed open, and a young man rushed in. He wore a simple white short-sleeved button-down. He had a clean, refined face with striking bone structure. Even the fingers gripping the takeout box were pale and slender. I stared at him, momentarily dazed. Some people might get amnesia. But their core appreciation for good looks never changes. My standards for my ideal type hadn’t changed either. I looked up at him and asked cautiously, “You are?” He stiffened. He pursed his lips, lowered his eyes, and asked, “You don’t remember who I am?” I frowned in deep thought. “Are you the Coldhearted Monster?” His expression turned complicated. “…My name is Noah Wright.” Noah reached out, wanting to check the injury on my forehead. “You fell down the stairs? Is it serious?” Seeing me flinch, he stiffly lowered his hand, his tone turning cold. “I’m not worried about you. I’m just afraid that if you bumped your head, you’d try to pin the blame on me again.” In just a few short sentences, he sketched out a picture of how selfish and spoiled I used to be. The guilt in my heart deepened. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, he asked in a low voice, “You really don’t remember who I am?” I answered honestly, “I don’t remember, but looking at our chat history, you must be the guy who always runs errands for me.” Noah: “…Not exactly.” I looked up suspiciously. He took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “We are childhood sweethearts.” When I still didn’t say anything, Noah added flatly, “And yes, we were also arranged to be engaged when we were kids.” I was shocked. “What? But our chat history doesn’t look like that at all… I thought you were just a classmate I wasn’t close with.” Noah laughed out of pure frustration. “If it wasn’t for that relationship, who would be willing to run your errands every single day?!” “Who would go out of their way to buy you food and save you a seat?” I defended myself in confusion: “But you just said buying my food was your duty.” Noah raised an eyebrow slightly. “Yeah, isn’t it the duty of a fiancé?” Just then, George the driver walked into the room. He looked a bit surprised to see Noah. “Noah, you’re here?” Noah stood up politely to greet him, smiling. “I came to check on her.” George was about to find a chair to sit down, but Noah’s next words made him jump right back up. “By the way, George, Harper doesn’t believe that we grew up together.” “Tell her. Aren’t we already engaged?” George’s eyes widened. “Huh?” He looked at Noah, who seemed perfectly normal, and then at me, whose face was full of questions. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded with a complex expression. “Yeah… that’s true.” 02 The first person I saw when I woke up was George. Given how he had run around handling my admission paperwork and contacting my parents, I already had a certain level of trust in him. Looking at Noah’s expression, it didn’t seem like he was joking. I felt a secret thrill in my heart. My ideal type had suddenly transformed into my fiancé. I felt like I hit the jackpot! Sure enough, even with amnesia, you’ll still fall for the person you used to like at first sight. When George stepped out to take a phone call, Noah placed the takeout box on the overbed table and handed me some silverware. “Eat first.” I took one look and smiled. “What a coincidence, these are all my favorites.” Noah lowered his eyes, scooping some soup for me, his tone calm. “It’s not a coincidence. This is the exact menu you specifically ordered this morning.” Guilt washed over me. “…That must have been a lot of trouble for you.” Noah casually wiped his hands with a napkin, saying flatly, “It’s not like it’s just been a hassle for one day.” “I’m used to it.” I felt a surge of pity and tugged at his sleeve. “Let’s eat together then?” Noah’s body went rigid. He rubbed his nose and coughed lightly. “I only bought one portion.” I felt confused again. “Don’t we usually eat together?” Noah turned his head away, pretending to look at the scenery outside the window. “…We do, but I already ate today.” I didn’t doubt him, and my mind was finally at ease. While he was drinking water, I continued eating and chattered away with him. “Noah, actually, the moment I saw you, I felt like I remembered something.” He choked on his water, coughing violently. He almost lost his composure. “You remembered?” Noah’s voice sounded strange, lacking his initial calm and collected demeanor. I nodded. “Yeah, the first time I saw you, I thought we looked like a perfect match.” “No wonder we’re engaged. You truly are my destined husband.” I laughed. “And even though I have amnesia, my standards for my ideal type haven’t changed at all.” “My imaginary husband looked exactly like you.” Noah: “…” A flush of crimson slowly crept up his flawless face, and the tips of his ears turned bright red. Noah scrambled up so fast he almost knocked over the overbed table. Me: “?” Noah tried his hardest to steady his nerves, but his flushed cheeks betrayed his current mood. He waved his phone. “Um… my study group just sent a notification. I have to head back for a bit.” “I need to submit some data to my advisor this afternoon.” I urged him understandingly, “Then hurry back! I feel much better. I’ll just rest by myself this afternoon and I’ll be fine.” Noah nodded, softening his tone. “I’ll come back and check on you later tonight.” He practically sprinted out of the hospital room as if he were fleeing. I couldn’t help but sigh at how exhausting grad school must be nowadays. A message from an advisor was like a death warrant. George happened to return from the hallway. Seeing me alone, he looked surprised. “Noah left?” I nodded, smiling. “Yeah, he said he’d come back to see me later.” George let out a sigh of relief and then discussed things with me. “The doctor thinks it’s best if a family member comes to the hospital.” “Since your parents are out of the country right now and can’t get back immediately, should I contact your brother?” Brother? I had a brother? Seeing my blank look, George gave an “I expected as much” expression. He took my phone, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it back to me. “This is your brother.” I looked down. A profile picture of a beagle wearing sunglasses caught my eye. His contact name was: “Trust Fund ATM” The daily conversations in the chat were pitifully sparse, consisting almost entirely of his transfer history to me. And occasionally, if someone made me mad, he would immediately step in to fix the problem. His response speed was so fast, it felt like I had purchased a VIP premium service. “Harper, you probably don’t remember, but Mason is your brother. Not by blood, though—he was adopted by your parents.” “He’s three years older than you and has always taken great care of you.” George explained. I understood and sent a message to the contact. [Brother.] He replied almost instantly. He sent fifty question marks in a row. Although I didn’t understand what he was so shocked about, I honestly continued typing. [Are you free right now?] Trust Fund ATM: [I’m free! What’s wrong? Did someone bully you again?] Trust Fund ATM: [Send me their info, I’ll go teach them a lesson.] Trust Fund ATM: [Do you need pocket money? I’ll wire it right now.] Trust Fund ATM: [Also, what did you just call me? Can you call me that one more time T_T…] What a weird brother. What a weird request. But I obliged him: [Brother, can you come to the hospital for a bit?] He sent another row of question marks. Immediately after, a voice call came through. I’ve always hated answering phone calls. Even with amnesia, that hadn’t changed. So I mercilessly hit the decline button. Trust Fund ATM: [? Why aren’t you answering the phone? What happened?] Trust Fund ATM: [Are you a scammer?!] Trust Fund ATM: [Scammers rot in hell. Give the phone back to her, or I swear to God I will end you.] Me: […I just don’t want to answer the phone. Too lazy.] Trust Fund ATM: [Oh, then it is you.] Me: [I have amnesia.] He sent another row of question marks. It really matched his profile picture perfectly. Trust Fund ATM: [Then do you still remember who I am?] I was getting a little annoyed: [I know, aren’t you my brother?] Trust Fund ATM: [Yes, yes, yes!! I am your absolute favorite brother!!] Please don’t add weird modifiers to yourself, okay? I pretended not to see it: [If you have time, can you come to the hospital? The doctor needs to see a family member.] Trust Fund ATM: [Send me the address.] After sending the location, I added, afraid he’d worry: [Don’t worry, my condition isn’t too serious.] Trust Fund ATM: [Okay, your brother will be right there ^^.] I reassured him: [No rush, George is keeping me company in the room, and my fiancé just came to see me too.] There was a moment of silence from the other end. Soon after, another row of shocked question marks arrived. Trust Fund ATM: [FIANCÉ?? Who the hell is that!!?] 03 Not long after, Mason arrived in a hurry. He was still wearing a dress shirt and suit pants, but his clean-cut short hair and the stud in his left ear completely clashed with his outfit. “Harper…” Mason sat by my bed, his face full of emotion and expectation. “So, after your amnesia, you only remember me?” Me: “Uh, actually, I didn’t remember you either…” Mason: “?” I held up my phone in front of him and kindly said, “George told me that the person with this profile picture is my brother.” Mason glanced at the phone, his mouth twitching. “Why is my contact name ‘Trust Fund ATM’?” I felt like everyone I met today should be hospitalized instead of me. “If I knew that, would it still be called amnesia?” Mason: “I suppose that makes sense…” Even though my stepbrother didn’t look entirely reliable, he was currently my only family member around. I tugged at his sleeve and asked softly, “Brother, can I be discharged? I want to go home.” Mason’s heart completely melted into a puddle. “No problem! I’ll go handle the paperwork right now!” He walked briskly toward the door, then turned back and cleared his throat. “By the way, Harper, I forgot to tell you something.” I looked up suspiciously. Mason took a deep breath and whispered earnestly, “You’ve always called me ‘Brother’ at home.” … Half an hour later, I was sitting in the car heading home. Beside me, Mason kept asking, “Do you want anything to drink? Do you want some snacks?” I shook my head, smiling. “No thanks, Brother.” Mason: “Ah… then do you want to listen to music? Do you want to play a video game?” I continued to shake my head. “Thank you, Brother, but don’t worry about it.” Mason carefully savored the way I addressed him, finally withdrawing his gaze in pure satisfaction. I scrolled through our chat history and voiced my doubts. “Brother, why do I feel like our relationship wasn’t very good before?” Mason bristled like a wild dog with its fur standing up. “Who said that?! Who said that?!” I shoved the phone in front of him and said honestly, “I saw it myself. And my tone when talking to you wasn’t very nice…” Mason looked like he was about to cry tears of emotion. “It wasn’t bad at all! I thought it was incredibly nice.” Me: “?” Bro, are you okay? In the chat history, I used to boss Mason around like a dog. If there was even the slightest thing I wasn’t happy about, I inevitably cursed him out terribly. Yet Mason never fought back or defended himself; he just silently endured it. And at the end, he would even say: [Stop being mad, it’s all your brother’s fault. I transferred some money to you, go buy a bag and cheer yourself up.] How could I have been so awful! Mason started listing my virtues. “Look, normally when someone bullies you, you tell me to go beat them up. Isn’t that because you care about my health, worrying that I’ll develop a beer belly and become a greasy middle-aged man, so you make sure I exercise and stretch my bones?” “Also, every week you ask me to send you money. Why? Because you know I’d just waste it, so you cut off the waste at the source! Besides, the things you bought weren’t just junk; you bought gold and designer bags. What is that? That’s an investment! You were managing my finances for me!” “Even if you used to be a little blunt, it doesn’t matter. We’re family. As the saying goes, the words from the people you love the most hurt the most. You loved me the most, so I totally understood.” Me: “?” As the car drove into a gated community, Mason held an umbrella to shade me from the sun when I got out. He suddenly asked, “By the way, you mentioned earlier that your fiancé came to see you too. Who is that?” I smiled brightly and said, “He said his name is Noah Wright. Do you know him?” Mason fell silent. After a long while, he finally gritted his teeth and cursed. “Damn it. He stole my base.” “If he spouts any sweet-talking lies, don’t you dare believe a word.” “That guy might look pure and harmless on the outside, but he’s rotten to the core and a master manipulator.” Just as he finished speaking, a scoff came from ahead. “Are you introducing yourself?” 04 My eyes fell on the girl standing on the stairs. She had her arms crossed, looking at us with a half-smile. I looked questioningly at Mason beside me. Didn’t they say I only had one brother? Did I have a sister, too? Mason: “Uh… she’s… Stella.” As he said this, Mason carefully gauged my reaction. “She’s Maria’s daughter. Maria is the nanny who works for our family.” “Her house is currently being renovated, so Mom and Dad told her to stay here on the weekends.” Earlier in the car, George had mentioned that there was a nanny who had taken care of us for over twenty years. That must be Maria. Seeing that I had no reaction, Mason whispered in my ear, “We don’t need to pay attention to her. Let’s just go back to your room and rest.” “Don’t forget to take your medicine later.” Hearing this, Stella slightly raised an eyebrow. But she nonchalantly stepped aside to let us pass. As I walked up the stairs, I saw Stella still standing near the front door. Sensing my gaze, she lifted her eyelids and gave me a look. Stella was very pretty. The kind of pretty that would make people do a double-take if they passed her on the street. Her eyes had a slight upward tilt at the corners, adding an air of cool detachment. I tilted my head and smiled, waving at her. Stella looked stunned for a moment. Early the next morning, I received several video calls in a row from my parents. My mom was crying on the other end of the screen. I comforted and coaxed her, assuring her that the doctor could come to the house anytime to check on my recovery. They finally felt relieved. Right after hanging up, I heard a commotion downstairs. I shuffled out in my slippers and peeked over the railing. Both Mason and Noah looked furious. Meanwhile, Stella sat on the couch, watching TV as if she had all the time in the world. Mason gritted his teeth, glaring angrily. “You actually took advantage of her amnesia to say you’re her fiancé?! Do you have no shame?!” Noah poured himself a glass of water, acting like no one else was in the room. “I wasn’t lying. We were already engaged.” Mason looked like he wanted to punch him. “You call that an engagement?! Neither of you even showed up for the dinner! You used to act like sworn enemies, fighting every time you saw each other!” “You always hated it when she ordered you around using the ‘fiancée’ title. Why didn’t you mention that?” Noah considerately corrected the inaccuracies in his statement: “That’s not true. Before high school, we got along quite well. You’re misremembering.” “Is that the main point?!” Mason was so angry he could have fainted. “I have never seen anyone as shameless as you.” Stella, who had been watching for a long time, lazily chimed in. “You haven’t seen much of the world, then. I think you’re pretty shameless, too.” Mason: “?” Stella yawned. “You still insisted she call you ‘Brother’ when you didn’t even deserve a name in this house. Wasn’t your nickname always just ‘Hey’?” “And saying she clung to you the most at home? From what I saw, you were the one acting like a clingy stray dog.” Mason finally snapped back to reality, laughing out of sheer anger. “I was so busy dealing with Noah, I forgot about you.” “Stella, this is my house! Watch your tone!” Stella looked up nonchalantly. “I know. If your parents hadn’t asked me to stay, do you think I’d want to be here?” The tension between the three of them downstairs was explosive; it had become an absolute chaotic battleground. I hesitated for a moment before speaking up. “What are you guys talking about?” The three of them abruptly looked up at me on the second floor. Mason was the first to react. He quickly put on a smile. “Harper, we were just chatting.” Me: “?” Don’t you think your “chatting” tone was a little too vicious? I tilted my head, my gaze bypassing him to look at Noah behind him. “Noah, why are you here too?” Noah rightfully pushed Mason aside and walked toward me. His tone was much softer. “I came to take you back to campus.” Mason grabbed his collar. “You’re taking her? Am I dead to you?” They both looked at me simultaneously. “Harper?” Me: “…” My gaze fell on Stella, who was sipping tea, completely unbothered and acting as if none of this concerned her. “Stella, do you also go to Stanford?” She clearly hadn’t expected the conversation to suddenly involve her. She was taking a sip of tea and suddenly choked. She forced herself to remain composed, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and looked up at me with a complex expression. “Yeah, why?” I smiled, my eyes sparkling. “Then let’s go back together.” 05 On the way back, I could count the number of times Stella spoke to me on one hand. To ease the tension, George the driver kept giving me background information on her. I finally learned that Stella used to come over to play at my house all the time when we were kids. Even though she was the nanny’s daughter, my parents adored her. She had always been quiet and introverted, the complete opposite of my personality. George was so used to talking about it that he completely dropped his filter. “Harper, you and Stella grew up together. If there was some conflict later on, you just need to talk it out. You guys are still good friends.” I frowned slightly. “I had a conflict with Stella?” Two coughs sounded next to me, and Stella quickly changed the subject. She looked at me with her cold, clear voice. “Your brother said you have amnesia. Are you sure you’re not just acting again?” Before I could answer, George quickly chimed in. “Of course not! I was the one who handled the hospital admission paperwork for her!” Stella choked on her words and went silent. I watched her rest her head on her hand and stare out the window, wondering what she was thinking. I couldn’t help but whisper. “Stella, what kind of person was I before?” Stella didn’t turn around, but her words were directed at me. “Why don’t you ask Mason and Noah?” I cupped my face and let out a long sigh. “Half of what they tell me is true and half is fake. They’ve praised me to the heavens. I don’t believe them.” “So you believe me?” Stella turned to look at me, casually listing my offenses. “You were selfish, arrogant, bossy, and mean.” “If things didn’t go exactly your way, you’d throw a massive tantrum, like you were possessed by a demon.” I froze. Stella’s tone was flat. “Do you believe me when I say that about you?” After a moment of thought, I nodded. This time, she was the one who was stunned. “I think you’re absolutely right. I must have been a really terrible person before.” I said with earnest guilt, “I read my chat history. I definitely wasn’t as nice as those two made me out to be.” Stella frowned slightly, opening her mouth, but ultimately remained silent. “Then… did I bully Mason a lot?” I asked worriedly. “You stayed at my house often, you must know, right?” Stella didn’t pull her arm away even though I was tugging at it, which she clearly wasn’t used to. She paused, resting her head on one hand, and said casually. “Yes, Mason was your number one lackey.” “Whatever you wanted, he gave it to you. Even if you wanted the stars in the sky, he’d probably call NASA to get them.” “He spoiled you the most since you were little. But if he failed to do exactly what you ordered, you would either hit him or scream at him.” I subconsciously swallowed hard, my nose stinging, my voice trembling. “I… I hit him?” My palms throbbed faintly. I remembered Mason’s indulgent smile from earlier that day. I really wished I could punch myself. Stella shot me a look, her expression complex. “What are you thinking? Of course not punching and kicking…” I was dumbfounded. “Huh? Then what was it?” Stella waved her hand, sounding awkward. “It’s not polite to say. Just consider it the ‘reward’ you gave him.” “Anyway, he seemed to enjoy it.” The car pulled up to the campus gates. Stella headed straight toward the academic buildings. Halfway there, she turned around and asked me. “You have a class at ten. Are you going?” I rubbed my groggy head and asked guiltily, “Can I skip it?” Stella let out a mocking laugh. “Sure enough. Even with amnesia, the habit of skipping class is still in your blood.” I wanted to defend myself but had nothing to say. She truly was an expert in human behavior. “I’ll sign you in. If you’re not feeling well, just go back to the dorm and rest.” Stella waved at me lazily. “Go on back.” I quickly thanked her. I hadn’t expected Stella to be this nice. She wasn’t nearly as stuck-up as she seemed. I didn’t even know why I had a conflict with her in the first place. I actually really wanted to be friends with her. With these chaotic thoughts in my head, just as I turned around, I heard a barely audible sigh behind me. “Actually, you weren’t as bad as you think you were.”

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Every day, it felt like there was a line of girls trying to win over my deskmate. Cheerleaders, prom queens, the most popular girls in school—they all flocked to him. But my quiet, brooding deskmate? He didn’t have an ounce of chivalry in his body. He’d look dead into the eyes of these gorgeous girls and spit out a single word: “Leave.” It was always dripping with pure, unadulterated annoyance and apathy. Yet, that same guy would turn around, pin me against the lockers, and look at me with dark, intense eyes. His voice would carry a desperate, almost pleading edge: “Don’t like anyone else. Please.” 1 I’m just an average, background-character kind of girl. Average family, average grades, average looks—maybe cute on a good day, but definitely nothing special. My life was a predictable loop: school, homework, home. Everything was incredibly, agonizingly ordinary. I went through the motions every single day, completely content with my routine. Until, one day, I realized my life wasn’t so ordinary anymore. It all started in my junior year, when the teacher assigned me a new deskmate. His name was Arthur. He was the valedictorian, the school’s resident bad-boy genius, and undeniably gorgeous. He had a quiet, brooding personality and constantly radiated a dark, “don’t-mess-with-me” aura. He looked like he hated the world. But that didn’t matter, because he was hot, and he was smart. Naturally, he was the target of countless teenage crushes. Except for me. I had zero interest in him. My crush was on the sunny, outgoing quarterback from the class next door. Which is exactly why the teacher made Arthur my deskmate. Why didn’t she pair him with a guy? Because Arthur apparently had severe mysophobia—he was a massive germaphobe. If someone even brushed against him, he’d act like a layer of his skin had been peeled off. His face would instantly turn like thunder. Teenage boys are full of testosterone. One wrong look, and a fight would break out. With girls, he’d hold back from throwing punches, but his mouth was lethal. He’d verbally decimate them. So, I became the safest, most logical choice to sit next to Arthur. 2 My designated “persona” in class was quiet and a bit slow. Sitting next to Arthur, we minded our own business. We coexisted in total peace. We didn’t talk. We didn’t even say hi. We kept our textbooks stacked in the middle of the desk like a demilitarized zone. We had basically zero interaction. Even though his temper was notoriously bad, every morning, there would be new love letters on his desk. And every single time… he shoved them into his backpack. At first, he threw them in the trash, but people would dig them out and read them aloud. After that, he just started taking them all home. I assumed he was taking them home for a mass bonfire. Arthur never lacked girls chasing him, but recently, I’d noticed something very strange. Every few weeks, a different, highly popular girl would suddenly start making her presence known to him, trying aggressively to get his attention. And every time they failed, it was like a switch flipped. They turned into completely different people. Their personalities would change entirely. Driven by a bizarre sense of curiosity, I started observing them like a detached spectator. 3 “Arthur, I really don’t understand this calculus problem. Could you help me with it?” The girl speaking was Chloe, the captain of the debate team. She was delicate and pretty, like a daffodil. She stood next to Arthur, placing her textbook on his desk, her voice laced with manufactured shyness. Arthur slowly lifted his eyes, his gaze freezing cold. “I don’t know how to do it.” That was a blatant, bald-faced lie. He got a perfect score on every single math test. I had never seen his grade fluctuate. The smile on Chloe’s face stiffened. “Oh… okay, then.” I watched her maintain her smile and tactfully walk away. Based on the look in her eyes, I guessed she wouldn’t give up that easily. Sure enough, during P.E. class that afternoon, I saw her approach Arthur, who was resting under the shade of an oak tree, and hand him a bottle of water. “Arthur, you must be thirsty. Have some water.” “I’m not thirsty.” Arthur rejected her flat out. He then reached down, picked up his own water bottle from the grass, twisted the cap off, and took a drink. I saw Chloe clench her fists tightly behind her back. “That’s okay. I’ll just leave it here. You can drink it later if you want.” Chloe maintained her perfect, polite smile and walked away. The cool breeze under the tree rustled Arthur’s dark hair, brushing it away from his forehead. His profile looked like it was carved from marble. At an age where he should be full of youthful energy, his eyes were clouded with a heavy, suffocating darkness. He looked lifeless. Suddenly, he turned his head and caught me staring. I casually looked away, staring blankly at the clouds in the sky, acting like nothing had happened. 4 At the end of P.E. class, as we were lining up to be dismissed. Chloe let out a dramatic gasp and stumbled forward. She was standing directly in front of Arthur. However, she vastly underestimated Arthur’s coldness. He smoothly took a step to the side, watching with absolute indifference as Chloe crashed hard onto the track. His hands, hanging loosely by his sides, didn’t even twitch with a reflex to catch her. Chloe cried out in genuine pain. Her fake fall had turned into a very real, very painful face-plant. Arthur looked down at her from above. The faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth looked exactly like he was watching a clown perform a stupid trick. Starting the next day, Chloe gave up. She went back to being her normal self and stopped revolving her life around Arthur. While the teacher lectured passionately at the front of the room, the boy next to me was scribbling equations I couldn’t even begin to understand on scrap paper. Dense, complicated, and entirely incomprehensible. I noticed that whenever he was writing these formulas, his entire aura shifted. A rare, intense spark of life would ignite in his usually dead eyes. 5 Today was the day the midterm grades were posted. The entire junior class was buzzing. Arthur, who had maintained an iron grip on the number one spot since freshman year, finally had a rival. There were two students tied for first place! Right next to Arthur’s name on the ranking board was the name of a girl. Like a dark horse, she shocked everyone. The classroom was full of whispers, everyone gossiping about this new academic powerhouse. Arthur sat at his desk, completely unfazed. I looked down at my own math test—which the teacher had just finished reviewing—staring at the barely-passing grade. I let out a quiet, pathetic sigh. My sigh caught Arthur’s attention. His gaze shifted to my score. There was no disdain, no arrogance. Just a very calm, flat look. But I still discreetly flipped my test over. Looking at the perfect 100 on his test, I was genuinely jealous. The disparity between humans is truly staggering. During the break after morning announcements, a girl intercepted Arthur in the hallway. She had a high ponytail, sharp features, and was stunningly beautiful. Like a rose with thorns. “Are you Arthur?” “I tied with you for first place on the midterms! I just wanted to let you know, next time, my name is going to be above yours!” The “Rose” tilted her chin up, arrogantly declaring war on Arthur. Arthur stared at her. For a split second, I actually thought he was captivated by her beauty. But then, a flash of deep annoyance crossed his eyes. Without saying a single word, he completely ignored her and walked right past her up the stairs. The Rose’s face flushed bright red under the watchful eyes of the crowd. She yelled at his retreating back: “Arthur, don’t you look down on me! I swear I’m going to beat you!” 6 After that, the Rose always seemed to “coincidentally” run into Arthur. Every single time, she looked at him with fierce pride, her words dripping with stubborn, motivational clichés. “I’m going to crush you.” She was using reverse psychology. Trying to provoke him. But Arthur never took the bait. When the second round of midterms came, everyone was on the edge of their seats. They couldn’t wait to see how the Rose was going to crush Arthur. However, to everyone’s absolute shock, Arthur remained in first place. He got perfect scores in every subject! He even got a perfect score on the English essay! The Rose was in second place! After the grades were posted, the Rose confronted Arthur. “You just got lucky. Getting a perfect score on an essay is a fluke. I’m not giving up! Just you wait!” After delivering her speech, Arthur—who had never once responded to her—finally spoke. “You’re so annoying. Whatever you’re trying to do has absolutely nothing to do with me.” “You’re loud.” Arthur’s eyes were dark, his tone freezing cold. The Rose froze, trembling with anger. 8 The Rose went quiet. She stopped showing up. I was honestly a little curious about who the next girl trying to force her way into his life would be. Several more girls showed up over the next few months, each trying a completely different tactic to get close to Arthur. Without exception, none of them caught his attention. All they got in return was the exact same, single word: “Leave.” Among all these beautiful girls, one in particular stood out to me. She was elegant and quiet, like a jasmine flower. She was a transfer student. Unlike the others, she didn’t throw herself at Arthur the moment she arrived. For the first week, she made absolutely no move. But I knew she was definitely waiting for the perfect opportunity. Because on her very first day, during her introduction to the class, her gaze lingered on Arthur for several seconds. When it was my and Arthur’s turn to do classroom cleanup duty after school, one of the guys in our class reached out and grabbed a chocolate bar off Arthur’s desk. It was a gift from one of the girls. He hadn’t touched it; he just left it sitting there. At the time, the guy had asked, “Arthur, another girl brought you food. Are you going to eat it?” Arthur was wiping the chalkboard. He didn’t even turn around. “No,” he said flatly. The next second, the guy ripped the packaging open. “I’m starving. If you aren’t going to eat it, I will.” Arthur turned around. Seeing the chocolate already in the guy’s mouth, his eyes instantly darkened. He raised his hand and hurled the heavy, chalk-dust-covered eraser directly at the guy. It hit him square in the chest, sending a cloud of white dust into the air. “What is wrong with you?!” “I said I wasn’t going to eat it. I didn’t say you could touch my things.” Then, the two of them started throwing punches. The next day, they were hauled into the principal’s office. The guy swore up and down that Arthur threw the first punch. Arthur didn’t say a word about the chocolate. The principal told Arthur to apologize. He refused, remaining stubbornly silent. So, the principal pulled out the ultimate threat. He was going to call Arthur’s parents! Arthur’s fists instantly clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. I could practically feel the rage radiating off him. I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just explain the situation with the chocolate. Teenage boy logic is truly bizarre. I thought about it. We were deskmates, after all. I figured I should probably step in and explain. Just as I raised my hand, the “Jasmine” girl abruptly stood up. “Principal, Arthur didn’t do anything wrong!” She recounted the entire story of what happened yesterday, clearing Arthur’s name. I looked at her, finding the whole situation incredibly amusing. So this was what she had been waiting for. 9 Half a month later, Jasmine was preparing to transfer to another school. She had failed. I was genuinely surprised. I didn’t know what had happened recently, but I had seen her and Arthur eating at the same table in the cafeteria. I thought she was special to him. That day after school, I was walking home and saw her turn into an alleyway. I remembered that it was a dead end. I was standing by a food truck, waiting for my crepe to be ready. The crepe was finished. I ate the whole thing. She still hadn’t come out. Hesitating for a moment, I walked toward the alley. Walking straight in, there was a fork to the left. As I rounded the corner, I saw Jasmine with her back to me, talking to an empty brick wall. Her usual quiet, elegant demeanor was completely gone. She was cursing and swearing. “What the actual fuck. I played this role for so long, and it didn’t do a damn thing.” “Does he have some kind of hidden mind-reading skill?” “He actually came up to me while I was eating and told me he knew I was approaching him with an ulterior motive, just like everyone else. He said he saw right through me from day one.” “I was holding back so much! I read so many ‘saving the broken bad boy’ novels before I got here. I analyzed the failures of all the girls who came before me!” “And it still didn’t work.” “This male lead’s difficulty level is SSSS. System, I am not doing this job anymore.” I stood hidden around the corner, stunned by the words I was hearing. Male lead. Strategy. System. My brain suddenly connected the dots, drawing a clear, terrifying line. I felt like I had just touched upon something massive. I slowly backed out of the alley. Under the twilight sky, a familiar silhouette appeared in my line of sight. The boy had his white baseball cap pulled low, walking on the main street ahead of me. On his pale skin, the bright red scrape near the corner of his mouth was glaringly obvious. He suddenly glanced sideways, his eyes meeting mine. His expression was dark and brooding. I looked at Arthur, my face completely blank. We stared at each other like strangers. After a brief second of eye contact, we both looked away and walked in opposite directions. Jasmine’s words kept replaying on a loop in my head. As I walked home, a faint smile tugged at the corner of my lips. How incredibly fascinating. An orange tabby cat was sitting in the branches of the oak tree by the sidewalk. It stared intently at my retreating back, and I was completely oblivious. 10 The next day, Jasmine said her goodbyes to the class. As she stepped down from the podium, passing Arthur’s desk, her face showed a mix of frustration and resignation. The cut near Arthur’s mouth looked a little better, but it was still obviously from a fight. Jasmine wanted to try one last time. She placed a Band-Aid on Arthur’s desk. I was confused. Putting a Band-Aid on a wound that had already stopped bleeding? Was that just for aesthetics? I shook my head. Arthur picked up the textbook the Band-Aid was resting on and gave it a slight shake. The Band-Aid fluttered weightlessly to the floor. Jasmine’s face twisted. She stormed back to her seat, fuming. During the passing period, I proactively went over to Jasmine and placed a pastry on her desk. “A goodbye gift for you.” She froze for a second, hesitating. “Your name is…” “I’m Harper Davis.” “Oh! You’re Arthur’s deskmate. Thank you for the gift.” I smiled, completely unbothered by the fact that she didn’t know my name. In this class, I had almost zero presence. I always stuck to my “background character” persona. “Let’s eat lunch together later.” “Oh!” She was clearly taken aback by my sudden friendliness. “I’ll wait for you after school. We can walk out together.” I finished speaking just as the bell rang. I didn’t give Jasmine a chance to refuse. I turned and went back to my seat. During that class, the English teacher was losing her voice and decided to give us a pop quiz instead of lecturing. Halfway through the quiz, the boy next to me started rummaging for something. I heard the dry, scratching sound of a pen tip digging into the paper without any ink. I glanced over and saw my deskmate, his brow furrowed with intense frustration. I pulled a box of ink refills from my backpack. Just as my fingers reached toward my pencil case, I remembered his severe germaphobia. I hesitated. Instead, I slid my hand under the desk, holding the box out to him, lightly brushing his uniform jacket to get his attention. Arthur looked at me. He was silent for a moment before pulling a single ink refill from the box. I heard a stiff, awkward, “Thank you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “402455”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When my parents died unexpectedly my junior year of high school, my relatives circled like vultures, eyeing the estate and the insurance payout. They harassed me constantly at my front door. Finally, unable to take it anymore, I knocked on the door of my heavily tattooed neighbor. “Hey man, are you in a gang?” 1 The car crash happened fast. My dad died on the way to the hospital. My mom didn’t make it out of the ER, but she hung on long enough to say her last few words to me. She gave me the PINs to her and my dad’s accounts, told me where the deed to the house and other valuables were kept, and her final sentence was: “Don’t trust anyone.” She didn’t even have the breath left to say anything sentimental. She was in so much pain. She just looked at me with tear-filled eyes, and then she was gone. I was still in my school uniform. I had run so fast to get to the hospital that my shoelaces were untied, and I hadn’t bothered to retie them. I knelt numbly beside my mom’s bed, listening to the doctor pronounce her dead. Faced with such overwhelming grief, the tears just wouldn’t fall. I felt disconnected, like I was moving through a dream. Eventually, I took their shattered cell phones. Feeling completely numb, I followed my mom’s final instructions, transferring all the money from their accounts into my own. The funeral was organized with the help of my parents’ friends. They put me in touch with a lawyer, and the drunk driver’s insurance company paid out a substantial settlement. And then, the relatives descended. My uncle and aunt showed up wearing brand new clothes, their eyes gleaming as they stared at my family’s modest three-bedroom, 900-square-foot house. “Noah, now that your parents are gone, your aunt and I will move in to take care of you,” my uncle announced, taking charge after barely two sentences. “But your cousins will have to come too. Your room is the biggest, so the boys can share that. How about you sleep in that little room next to the balcony?” Our house had three bedrooms. The master was my parents’, my room was a decent size, and the smallest room—which could barely fit a twin bed and didn’t even have a window—was basically a closet. The settlement details were being handled by the lawyer and my parents’ mutual friends. My relatives didn’t know the exact figures or the timeline. My uncle continued, “You’re not eighteen yet. I’ll hold onto your parents’ settlement money for you. I’ll give you a monthly allowance, and when you graduate college and get married, I’ll give the rest back.” My older cousin was already in his twenties, and my uncle was desperate to buy him a house so he could get married. Last year, he had come to my dad asking for a loan. My dad lent him a few thousand dollars, but they complained it wasn’t enough. And they had never paid back any of the money they’d borrowed in the past. “No thank you, Uncle. I can take care of myself,” I said. Their expressions instantly changed. They launched into a long, dramatic speech, even squeezing out a few crocodile tears. They said I was my parents’ only son, they were worried I wouldn’t be okay, and that my parents’ spirits wouldn’t rest in peace if I was left alone. I still refused. I was 17. I wasn’t stupid. The two people who loved me most in the world were gone. This old house, located right next to some of the best public schools in the district, was a safety net my parents had built for me since they got married. I was going to protect it no matter what. My uncle and aunt spoke sweetly, but their eyes were calculating. When I didn’t cave, my mom’s younger brother and sister showed up next, also fighting for custody. Or, more accurately, fighting for the right to live in my house and control my parents’ settlement money. 2 No matter how good the soundproofing is, it can’t withstand that kind of screaming match. They were all trying to out-shout each other. They weren’t arguing logic; they were just competing to see who could be the loudest and say the nastiest things. At first, they tried to keep up appearances, but by the end, the masks completely slipped. My mom’s brother: “He’s my sister’s son, of course he’s coming with me! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re plotting. You’re not getting a single dime of my sister’s settlement money!” My dad’s brother naturally shot back: “My sister-in-law married into our family, which makes her a Miller! Noah is a Miller! What’s wrong with me taking care of him? Sounds to me like you’re the one after the settlement money!” “…” I knew exactly what kind of people these relatives were. While my parents were alive, they constantly leached off them. Unless I had money lining my pockets, I would be nothing but a burden in their eyes. Suddenly, someone started pounding violently on the front door. Bang, bang, bang! The force was so heavy it sounded like they were going to punch a hole straight through the wood. The arguing abruptly stopped. My uncle cursed as he went to open the door: “Which blind idiot…” As the door swung open, his voice died in his throat. I looked past the other relatives in the room and saw a young man standing in the doorway. He was dressed entirely in black. He was very tall, and his tight black t-shirt showed off a massive, muscular build with sharply defined lines. More importantly, his entire right arm was covered in a sprawling tattoo sleeve. Right now, he was standing at my front door, looking incredibly annoyed, his eyes dark and menacing. My uncle, who had been so arrogant just a second ago, stuttered under the man’s intense glare: “Wh-who are you looking for?” The man spoke, his voice deep but laced with obvious anger: “Are you done screaming yet?” After delivering his warning and getting a terrified guarantee from my uncle, the heavily tattooed guy opened the door to the adjacent apartment and walked in, still looking furious. I was stunned. The apartment next door had been empty for a long time. The previous neighbors moved out after their kid went to college, and the place had been sitting on the market. It looked like it had finally sold. And that heavily tattooed guy was my new neighbor. After the door slammed shut, my aunt and uncle seemed to finally snap out of their daze, turning their heads back. “Noah, how do you have such a terrifying neighbor?” my aunt complained. I glanced at my other aunt, who was holding my hand and wiping fake tears, then looked at the rest of the people in the room—my mom’s brother, his wife, my aunt’s husband, my dad’s brother, his wife, and my older cousin. My parents had financially supported their siblings for over twenty years, yet they had never managed to get their lives together. Now, seeing me sitting on a pile of cash, I was nothing but a juicy steak to them. “Uncle David, Uncle Mark, Aunt Sarah,” I addressed them one by one, keeping my voice as calm as possible. “I’m 17 years old. I can take care of myself. You should all go home.” “What does that mean, Noah? Are you kicking your own uncle out?!” “Your parents are gone! We are your closest family now!” “…” A bunch of people who were so afraid of chipping in for funeral costs that they only showed up at the very end… what kind of “family” was that? “My house can’t fit this many people.” I crossed my arms and looked at my uncle. “Uncle David, didn’t you say I should transfer all the money to you, and you’d give it back when I get married and have kids? I’m almost a legal adult. I could find a girlfriend very soon. If you all move in now, I’ll just have to kick you out when I get married. It’s too much of a hassle…” Before I even finished my sentence, my mom’s brother howled: “What?! David Miller, you told Noah to transfer the money to you?! Have you no shame?! You’re just trying to use that money to buy a house for your son, aren’t you?!” They started fighting again, though their volume was noticeably lower this time. 3 They all wanted to stay, and none of them could stand the idea of anyone else staying. Because my apartment simply couldn’t hold all of them, they eventually dragged each other out the door. Of course, even if they wanted to stay, I wouldn’t have let them. These people didn’t seem to care what I thought, even though I was the legal owner of this house now. After locking the front door, I walked back into my parents’ bedroom. It was still filled with their things, looking no different than before. It just looked like they had gone on a business trip. But I knew they were never coming back. The emotions, acting like they were on a delay, finally surged up and hit me head-on. I sat on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. The tears finally burst forth, and a profound, overwhelming grief swallowed me whole. For the first 17 years of my life, I had never felt this kind of loneliness. The stable, relatively happy life I had known turned out to be as fragile as a bubble, shattering completely. I hated the drunk driver. I hated him for driving under the influence, and I hated that it wasn’t him who died. He was going to prison and paying a settlement, but he couldn’t give me back my living, breathing parents. The tears fell freely, refusing to stop. Even though I was the only person left in this house, I still didn’t dare wail out loud. I just curled up in the corner and sobbed quietly. After that day, I started going back to school. But those relatives hadn’t given up on the fat piece of meat they saw me as. For the sake of the money, they didn’t even go back to their own towns. They rented cheap apartments nearby and harassed me at my front door constantly. At first, they played nice, saying they wanted to take care of me. But then my uncle brought up his son needing a house to get married and asked for a “loan.” My other uncle said he needed a new car. My aunt said her kid wanted to transfer to a better school in the city. It was like they had coordinated it. They were all trying to dig into my pockets, completely ignoring the fact that that money was the price of their siblings’ lives. They could play the victim, and of course, I could too. So, they finally dropped the act and started emotionally blackmailing me, calling me an ungrateful brat. At times like this, I was actually glad my grandparents on both sides had already passed away. I couldn’t leave my house without running into them. It felt like I was the one who owed them a massive debt, and they were the debt collectors. This couldn’t go on. I was incredibly annoyed. So, on a Sunday afternoon, I knocked on my neighbor’s door. When he opened the door, he was shirtless. He had short, messy hair and looked like he had just woken up. The tattoo on his right arm snaked all the way up his shoulder and onto his chest. It looked like a dragon. He looked incredibly intimidating. “Hey, man,” I suppressed the anxiety in my chest. “Are you… in a gang?” 4 After hearing my question, my heavily tattooed neighbor’s face froze for a second. Finally, he just looked at me blankly and asked, “What do you want?” His chiseled face had strong, sharp features. He was genuinely handsome. But the aura he gave off made it very easy to ignore his looks. I had been observing this neighbor. Most days, he left the apartment around 8 or 9 PM and didn’t come back until early the next morning. Occasionally, if he came back a little later, it coincided with me waking up early to study, and I’d hear his door open. The doors in this old apartment complex used heavy, outdated locks, so they were loud when they opened. I guessed this neighbor worked some kind of physical labor job because he was tall, incredibly muscular, and had an intense, aggressive vibe about him. Facing someone like him, I was internally terrified, but I kept my voice as steady as possible. “Hey man, I… I’m your neighbor. I live right next door. I was hoping I could ask you for a favor.” “Not interested.” He started to close the door. I quickly reached out to stop him. “Wait, wait! I’m not asking for a freebie. I’ll pay you! You don’t even really have to do anything. Just help me scare off a few people.” The tattooed guy stopped closing the door. He seemed to study me for a second. “You want to hire me as a bodyguard?” “…” That was basically the gist of it. Before I could answer, he said coldly, “If you’re getting bullied, call your parents. What kind of logic is asking a stranger for help?” “I don’t have parents anymore.” “What?” The tattooed guy’s tone seemed to falter, and his gaze landed on my face. “My parents died in an accident. Those relatives of mine are eyeing the stuff they left me, and they keep harassing me.” I looked up, trying to gauge his reaction. “Man, it’s the same people who disrupted your sleep the other day. You definitely don’t want to see them again either, right?” “Those people were here trying to shake you down?” The tattooed guy frowned slightly. “Yeah. One by one, they all owe my parents money and have never paid it back. Now they want to steal the settlement money my parents left me.” I nodded. “Hey man, what’s your daily rate usually? I’ll hire you for your daily rate to help me out, okay?” I just needed him to show his face when those relatives showed up and scare them off. The tattooed guy finally let out a scoff. “Do you even know what my daily rate is before you ask that?” I honestly didn’t, but I couldn’t think of a better plan right now. “Man, just give me a number?” I asked tentatively. Instead of answering, he asked, “When do those relatives of yours usually show up?” “I don’t know, but probably around evening.” It was the weekend; they knew I’d be home. My uncle and the others had been sending me long, rambling messages on WhatsApp, trying to guilt-trip me. Some of the messages were just nasty insults. Most of them were voice memos, and I was too lazy to even listen to them. “Alright. Go back inside.” I heard this incredibly intimidating neighbor reply. I walked back to my apartment feeling thoroughly confused, still unsure if he had actually agreed to take the job or not. Around 5 PM, there was a knock at my door. I was instantly on high alert. But aside from the knocking, there weren’t any obnoxious voices outside, and the rhythm of the knocking was different from theirs. I stood behind the door and heard unfamiliar voices talking. So I asked, “Who is it?” “Me.” It was my neighbor’s voice. I opened the door, and when I saw the scene outside, I froze. 5 There were several guys standing outside. Aside from my tattooed neighbor, there were three others. They were all very tall and heavily built. The biggest one had a buzz cut and muscles that looked like they belonged on a heavyweight boxer. He had a very aggressive face. Another one had dyed blond hair, was covered in accessories, and had tattoo sleeves on both arms. There was also a guy with curly hair wearing a tank top. He was thinner than the rest but looked equally intimidating. Most importantly, they were all carrying grocery bags. “Man?” I looked confused at the leader, my neighbor. He led the guys inside, and as he walked past me, he said, “I don’t have any cookware over there yet. We’re borrowing your place for hot pot.” With that, he navigated his way to my kitchen and led the group over. “Oh, right,” he looked back at me. “Leave the front door open.” The guys didn’t pay any attention to me. They just went straight into the kitchen and started prepping. They had brought a ton of meat and vegetables. Because it was too cramped, the biggest guy got kicked out of the kitchen. “Kid, why are you staring at me?” He caught me peeking and asked in a booming voice. I instinctively replied, “Man, your muscles look really impressive. I was just admiring them.” That comment seemed to please him. He let out a booming laugh. “You’ve got a good eye.” “Man, what’s your name?” I asked. Through a brief conversation, I learned that the big guy currently making himself entirely at home on my sofa was named Marcus. The blond guy in the kitchen was Jayden, and the curly-haired guy was Eli. As for my neighbor, his name was Jax. The smell of hot pot drifted out of the kitchen. I watched them carry out the pot, plates of meat and vegetables, and two large bowls of dipping sauce. In the short time they had been here, they looked more like the homeowners than I did. “Kid, why are you just standing there? Come eat! Don’t be shy in your own house,” Marcus called out. “…” The broth was incredibly spicy. I was inhaling sharply as I ate. It was hot, but it smelled amazing. The tattooed guy sitting next to me cracked open a can of Coke with one hand, popped a straw in it, and handed it to me. “Can’t handle spice?” “Jax, I’m fine.” I had heard the others calling him that. “I love it, I’m just not very good at handling heat.” Jax didn’t care how I knew his name. He got up, poured me a glass of ice water, and set it in front of me. “If you can’t handle the spice, just rinse the food off before you eat it.” His action, however, stunned the other three guys. The blond guy complained, “Jax, last time I had a breakout and didn’t want to eat spicy food, you told me to go eat at a separate table…” The curly-haired guy chimed in with the same tone: “Jax, remember when you said picky eaters can get out…” Marcus just laughed loudly. Jax scoffed. “What, you want to kick the homeowner out while you’re eating at his house? Are you guys trying to stage a mutiny?” The others teased him a bit more. When they opened their mouths, they were actually pretty easy to get along with. It was just their physical appearance that was easily misunderstood. Halfway through the hot pot, sure enough, there was noise coming from outside. 6 I heard several voices. “Noah Miller, you actually have the mood to sit at home and eat hot pot?!” My uncle’s voice came from outside. He had clearly smelled the food and saw that my front door was wide open. Then came my aunt: “The elders are suffering so much because of him! He has no conscience!” “…” The group walked in, looking unified, like they had coordinated their approach beforehand. They all wanted to extract money from me. However, when they gathered at the doorway and looked inside, the four adult men sitting next to me all looked up and stood up simultaneously. They were all very tall, and unlike my uncle’s flabby weight, this was pure, gym-built muscle. The intimidating aura of these guys standing together was off the charts. “Noah Miller, who are these people you’re hanging out with?!” “If your parents knew you were acting like this, they’d be rolling in their graves!” “You’re young and naive. You won’t be able to hold onto the money your parents left you for long. You’ll probably blow it all on these shady friends of yours!” “…” They felt they held the moral high ground as they walked in. Jax and his friends took two steps forward. Just those two steps made my relatives retreat a few paces in fear. “Noah Miller, what is the meaning of this? Did you hire these thugs to intimidate your elders?” my aunt spoke up first. She had a sharp tongue, but even she was intimidated by these tall, intimidating strangers. Jax looked at them and spoke first: “Since you people are the ‘elders,’ the kid’s parents recently passed away, and he’s all alone. We’re not even asking you to provide any help, but shouldn’t you at least pay back the money his parents lent you?” My relatives had never, ever considered the concept of “paying back” the money. Hearing this, their expressions varied wildly. “What money? When did they ever lend me money?” My mom’s brother was the first to deny it, swearing up and down that it never happened. Then came my dad’s brother’s wife: “Noah’s dad transferred money to us a few years ago, but wasn’t that the allowance money for his grandparents before they passed away? We never borrowed money!” My other aunt had a similar excuse ready. I felt numb. Even though I already knew exactly what kind of people they were, I still felt that my parents’ sacrifices were completely unworthy of them. “I still have my parents’ phones. The text message logs say otherwise,” I spoke up suddenly. “And Uncle David, did you forget? You borrowed five thousand dollars from my parents the year before last, and you even signed an IOU. Do you want me to bring out the chat logs and the IOU to confront you?” Their eyes widened. They had been showing up constantly lately just to extract money. How could they possibly agree to lose money now? Actually, no matter how sweet they sounded when they borrowed the money, they never had any intention of paying it back. The front door suddenly slammed shut. They looked back and realized that the curly-haired guy had circled behind them and locked the door without them noticing. Jax: “If the debts aren’t settled today, no one is leaving.” My relatives instantly panicked and turned to try and open the door to leave. Naturally, that wasn’t happening. “What do you think you’re doing?! Believe it or not, I’ll call the police!” Marcus laughed. “Call ’em. Let the cops come and see who’s really being shameless. Paying back debts is a basic rule of society. He has proof you owe him money. Suing you in small claims court wouldn’t be hard at all.” Seeing that they couldn’t reason their way out of this, my uncle turned his gaze back to me. “Noah Miller, is this how you treat your own flesh and blood? Letting them bully us?” He tried to sound self-righteous. “Are you even a Miller anymore?!” 7 “Not anymore, Uncle. You never treated me like a human being anyway,” I said flatly. Marcus burst out laughing at that. “You’re a pretty funny kid.” These guys blocking the door was still very intimidating. My relatives, who usually relied on their status as “elders” to be arrogant, were terrified. They eventually coughed up a few hundred dollars each. They muttered about paying the rest in installments. As Jax watched them transfer the money to me, he added one sentence: “Put ‘Debt Repayment’ in the memo line.” Only then did he open the door and let them go. I looked at the extra couple of thousand dollars in my phone, feeling relieved. I knew full well that “paying in installments” was just a lie to get out the door. But they had come here not only failing to extort me, but actually losing money themselves. It felt incredible. “Guys, you were amazing!” Marcus waved his hand. “Ah, people like them just bully you because you’re young and have a thin skin. The second they run into real trouble, they panic. You and Jax are neighbors; I doubt they’ll dare show their faces around here again.” Eli clicked his tongue. “A bunch of fully grown adults with working arms and legs, targeting a kid’s house and wallet. Shameless!” “We see this kind of thing all the time,” Jayden said, sitting down and continuing to eat. “Scumbags who only pick on the weak.” They went back to happily eating. After they finished, they wiped their mouths, said goodbye to Jax, and left, saying they had to get to work. I looked at my tattooed neighbor and asked, “Jax, how much do I owe you guys for the day rate?” He hadn’t told me their daily rate yet. Jax glanced at me, then glanced at the table. “You clean up. Keep your money. Don’t go around telling people how much cash you have.” He didn’t want my money, and his friends seemed to have just come over for hot pot before strolling away. They left a huge bag of unfinished drinks and snacks at my place. It wasn’t until Jax was about to leave that I finally snapped out of it and stopped him to exchange contact info. I originally didn’t know what he did for a living. Seeing him leave late and come back early, it wasn’t until I saw a post online one day that I realized he was a bartender at a nearby club. So he wasn’t in a gang after all. I thought back to my initial impression of him and felt a little guilty. Jax had truly done me a massive favor. After that day, terrified of being hounded for the debt, my uncle and the others made a silent pact to stop harassing me. Another weekend rolled around. I texted him in advance, wanting to treat him and the other three guys to dinner. I checked his club’s operating hours; there was plenty of time for dinner beforehand. At first, Jax just replied with one word: [Unnecessary]. I insisted, and he finally compromised, telling me to send him the restaurant address and time, and he would notify the other three. Around the agreed-upon time, I knocked on the door next door. A man wearing a burgundy dress shirt stepped out. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the top buttons were undone, leaving his collar open. The tattoos on his right arm and chest were faintly visible. He was also wearing a silver cross necklace. Jax smelled like expensive cologne. “Let’s go,” he said to me. 8 I picked a place not too far from the club where he worked. I chose it intentionally. I booked early, so we even got a private room. The other three guys arrived early. “Noah’s here? Come sit. We’re riding your coattails today.” I walked over and smiled at them. “No way, Marcus. I’m the one who owes you guys. Things have been so much quieter lately. Please, don’t be polite.” As their eyes landed on Jax, Eli suddenly let out a low whistle. “Jax, dressing up this flashy just to grab dinner with our boy?” Jax lightly kicked his shin, not using much force. “Shut up. This is my work uniform.” The other three instantly burst into laughter. Work uniform? Seeing my confusion, Eli threw his arm around my shoulder and explained: “Noah, Jax opened a club with some partners. Jayden and I are in the house band, Marcus handles security. Right now, they’re short-staffed, and good, high-quality bartenders are hard to find. So he stepped in himself. Now, men and women alike just stare at his face and come in to spend money on eye candy.” Jayden smirked. “Jax is basically the face of the club now. Anyone else can call out sick, but he can’t. Every night, rich guys and girls come in asking if he needs money or a sugar daddy/mommy.” Jax shoved a piece of watermelon into his mouth. “Stop corrupting the kid!” “17 isn’t a kid! I’d had two serious relationships by the time I was 17!” Jax: “That’s why you didn’t get into college.” “…Bro, really? Hitting me with the academic insult?” Jayden protested. “You went to college, and now you’re working the same job as me?” “Food isn’t enough to shut your mouth!” “…” I had ordered the food in advance, and it didn’t take long for the waiter to start bringing out the dishes. Halfway through the meal, Jax stepped out to use the restroom. When he didn’t come back right away, I stepped out too. I passed by the front desk and saw him trying to pay the bill, only to be told it had already been settled. He turned around, and our eyes met. I grinned widely at him. “Jax, I said I was treating. I paid ages ago.” Jax: “…” “Who lets a minor pay the bill when a bunch of adults go out?” he muttered. A moment later, he couldn’t help but add, “You’re so young, where did you learn to play the networking game like this?” “My mom taught me. If you’re going to treat someone to a meal, you have to show genuine sincerity.” Jax reached out and patted my head. “What does a high school kid need with all this social maneuvering? Focus on studying, that’s the right path.” After we finished eating, the other three guys asked if I wanted to come hang out at their club. Jayden said, “Noah, our club is actually really fun. There are lots of hot guys and girls. You’re so good-looking, you’d definitely be popular…” Before he could finish, Jax cut him off: “Noah, I’ll walk you home.” He also shot Jayden a glare. “Jayden, stop being a bad influence.” “Jax, why are you so tense? If people didn’t know better, they’d think we run a sketchy underground club!” Jax: “…” After this dinner, I definitely felt closer to my new neighbor, but we still didn’t have much overlap in our daily lives. I was a student; he was a club owner and bartender. We were fundamentally on two different paths. I finally gradually got used to living alone—going to school every day and coming home to an empty house. Until summer break arrived. 9 I spent more time at home, mostly just grinding through practice tests. The neighbor’s club was doing great business. He usually didn’t get home until nearly 6 AM. One night, I had insomnia and couldn’t sleep until 4 AM. While getting up to use the bathroom, I suddenly heard a loud THUD outside my front door. Usually, at this hour, any noise out there would only be made by Jax. I hesitated for a few seconds before carefully opening the door and peeking out. The motion-sensor lights in the hallway hadn’t turned off yet. Jax was collapsed entirely on the floor. I froze, then quickly stepped out and crouched down beside him. “Jax?” I called out softly, shaking him gently. Jax reeked of alcohol. He was clearly incredibly drunk. “Jax, wake up.” I patted his pockets but couldn’t find his keys. He didn’t react at all. He didn’t even open his eyes. The only thing I could confirm was that he wasn’t dead. I glanced down the hallway. I couldn’t just leave him passed out in the corridor. I gritted my teeth, used all my strength to pull him up, and half-carried, half-dragged him into my apartment. He was tall and solidly built. He was heavy. It took an insane amount of effort to maneuver him into my room. After taking off his shoes, I turned around, locked the door, turned off the lights, and went into the master bedroom to sleep. The consequence of insomnia was waking up late the next day. The sun was already high in the sky when I finally became lucid. The first thing I did was get out of bed and walk out to the living room. Jax was sitting on my sofa. I had no idea how long he had been sitting there. “Jax, you’re up early?” Jax turned to look at me. He was still wearing last night’s clothes. He rubbed his temples. “How did I get in here last night?” He had completely blacked out. Makes sense, considering how drunk he was. I gave him a brief rundown, including the fact that I couldn’t find his keys in his pockets. Jax patted his pockets again and finally concluded: “I probably left them at the club.” I found some spare, unused toiletries in my house for him. “Jax, I’m going to order some food on DoorDash. What do you want?” The sound of the running faucet in the bathroom stopped, and a voice called out: “Whatever you’re having, I’ll have.” When Jax came out and saw the takeout containers on the dining table, and then glanced at the stash of instant ramen in the corner, he asked, “Do you just survive on DoorDash and ramen when you’re on break?” “Is there a problem?” I looked at him, confused. During the school year, I could eat at the cafeteria. At home, takeout was just more convenient. I could cook a little, but my culinary skills weren’t exactly stellar. Jax didn’t say anything else. After eating, he grabbed his phone, sent a message to someone, and then left, taking the trash with him. I thought it was just a perfectly ordinary day until the next evening when Jax sent me a text: [Come over for dinner]. ? It was my first time inside Jax’s apartment. There were several dishes set out on the dining table. The aroma was incredible. Jax, wearing a black tank top, carried a bowl of soup out of the kitchen. “Sit down.” “Jax, you know how to cook?” I was still a little shocked. Jax gave a non-committal “Mhm,” and placed a ladle of soup in front of me. “Eat up. I can’t finish all this by myself.” None of the dishes on the table were bad. I ate while giving Jax a thumbs-up. “Jax, you’re amazing!” Jax didn’t even try to be modest. He pulled a corner of his mouth into a smirk. “Obviously.” I hadn’t experienced the feeling of eating a home-cooked meal like this in a very long time. Even though it was at a neighbor’s house, it still made me feel incredibly moved. I buried my head and ate voraciously. Jax didn’t seem to notice the emotional shift in my mood. From that day on, my heavily tattooed neighbor would occasionally show off his culinary skills and invite me over to eat.

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We were poor. Dirt poor. To buy him that birthday gift, I saved every cent I had for a whole year. The day my mom’s tragedy struck, I left school early. That was when I heard him laughing with his friends. “This piece of junk? A third-place prize at a local diner looks better than this,” he said, shaking his head. His friend laughed loudly. “Since you hate it, Ty, give it to me. I’ll sell it and buy some decent gear.” “Go ahead. Take it.” Tyler Cole threw it to him like it was garbage. And that’s when his eyes met mine. Years later, at a high school reunion, I heard Tyler had been looking for me for eight years. 01 When my eyes met Tyler’s, his expression froze. The guy holding the watch scratched his head, looking pure agony. “Do… do you want this back?” I stared at the watch in his hand. It was already scuffed up, clearly not taken care of, even in the short time he’d had it. It wasn’t a luxury watch—it cost a little under a thousand bucks—but for me, that was a year’s worth of cutting back on lunch, saving dollar by dollar. I looked at Tyler’s wrist. He was wearing a watch today. I didn’t recognize the brand, but I knew one thing for sure: the one he was wearing cost a hell of a lot more than the one I had given him. I silently took the watch back from Tyler’s friend. Then, I looked at Tyler and spoke slowly. “I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it.” Tyler kept his eyes low, pressing his lips together in silence. He didn’t say a word. Humiliated, I rubbed the watch in my hand, turned on my heel, and walked away. As I passed the first trash can outside the school gates, I didn’t hesitate. I threw the watch right in. I looked back at him one last time. He had lazily opened his eyes, a smile playing on his lips, his gaze filled with pure mockery. I froze, lowering my head. It was so humiliating, this crush of mine. Back then, I didn’t know that single look from Tyler Cole would become my nightmare for years to come. 02 When I got home, my dad was sitting on the porch, a cheap cigarette hanging from his mouth, his face a mask of despair. Mom wasn’t there. He handed me a report. It was the diagnosis. Breast cancer. Dad took a long drag of his cigarette. “The treatment is going to cost hundreds of thousands. I talked it over with your mom… we aren’t going to do it.” “Your mom said she wanted that pulled pork I make. Go buy the meat. I’m going to the hospital to bring her home in a bit.” I didn’t believe it. I flipped through that report over and over, my voice shaking. “Is it a confirmed diagnosis? These things are misdiagnosed all the time. Tomorrow, I’m taking Mom to another hospital. This has to be a mistake…” I looked at my dad stubbornly. Dad’s eyes were bloodshot. He just looked at me, saying nothing. In that second, the tears fell. I couldn’t stop them. Finally, I choked out, “I’m quitting school. Let’s use the money for Mom’s treatment.” Dad just kept his head down. I knew my dad’s heartbreak wasn’t less than mine. Dad had a prosthetic leg. Back in the day, my mom was the only one willing to be with him, never judging him, always encouraging him. Even though we were poor, my parents loved each other fiercely. In middle school, when everyone was starting to talk about their faith and beliefs, I asked him, “Dad, what’s your faith?” Dad didn’t really get what “faith” meant, so I gave him a rough explanation. He scratched his head, embarrassed. “I guess your mom is my faith.” And later… I had a faith of my own, too. I wanted to grow up, make money, and take my parents to see the world. Now, my dad’s faith was collapsing. And mine was, too. I grabbed my dad’s hand, speaking to myself as much as him. “I’m not going back to school. I’ll get a job. We’ll go to New York City. We’ll get Mom the best doctors.” Dad smoked, saying nothing. But my mind was made up. I told Dad to go get Mom, and I started packing things up for New York. Then, I went back to school. 03 It started raining halfway there. People on the street were hurrying, trying to get indoors before it poured. Only then did I dare to cry, my rain and tears blending together. The school was almost empty by the time I got there. I reached my hand into that filthy trash can. The stench was overwhelming, but I dug through it over and over. But the watch I had thrown away wasn’t there. I bit my lip, wanting to slap the self that had thrown it away. Even selling it for parts would have given us a few hundred bucks! I searched for hours. I went through every piece of trash in that can. No watch. Devastated, I started walking home. The streets were deserted now. The rain was coming down so hard it actually hurt. When I got home, Dad wasn’t back yet. The house that usually felt warm now felt freezing cold. I waited, and waited… Finally, just one person came running to tell me the news. “Your dad and mom… they jumped into the river together.” That was the year I was a senior. I lost both my parents and became an orphan. 04 Eight years have passed, and I still can’t forget that day. I sat up in bed, checked my phone. It was only 4 AM. Staring at the empty room, I whispered, “Dad, Mom…” Just like always, there was no response. 八年… They haven’t come to visit me in my dreams even once. My dreams are only filled with Tyler Cole, that smirk on his lips, that mocking look in his eyes, laughing as he asks me: “Have you no shame, Maya?” Every time I scream back that I do, I wake up. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got up and started packing. After numbing myself through their funerals back then, I left that town. I went to a new city, working and studying at the same time. Working to pay for tuition and life was brutal. But I didn’t dare let myself stop. If I stopped, I’d cry. I went to a hospital, and the doctor said I had severe depression. He said I needed someone to help me pull myself out of that day. But there was no one like that… After being gone for eight years, the urge to go back has grown stronger lately. I want to see that river where they jumped. I want to jump in and ask them why they were so heartless. I’m just so tired… Since I was going back anyway, I decided I wasn’t against seeing my old classmates. So when the class president asked if I was coming to the reunion, I was the first to say yes. I haven’t spoken in that group chat in eight years. I’d deleted all their contacts, too. Including Tyler’s. 05 I bought a ticket for the earliest high-speed train. I felt lighter than I had in years. In eight years, not a single day had felt this peaceful. I looked at the scenery outside the window, smiling as I chatted with the young couple in the seats next to me. The girl said, “You have no idea how hard I had to chase him. So many girls wanted him, but I stuck it out for two years. Now, I’m taking him home to meet my parents!” “Are you so happy because you’re going home to see your parents, too, sweetie? I feel like the air itself gets sweeter on the way to see them.” I was silent for a moment, then forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m going home, too.” “Home… to see my parents.” I whispered the last part so softly only I could hear. But those words made me happy. I was going to… see my parents soon. I hummed a song the whole way there. After getting off the train, I went straight to the place the class president had booked. 06 Most people were already there by the time I arrived. As soon as I walked in, the room went dead silent. I casually took a seat in the chair closest to the door. I let the smile slide off my face. The class president adjusted his glasses to break the silence. “Maya, you made it?” I nodded. Brittany, a girl who always hated me in school, let out a sarcastic snort. “Wow, if it isn’t the valedictorian herself, Maya Evans. Hardest person to get a hold of. Seeing your face makes me lose my appetite. Someone should give Tyler a heads-up so he doesn’t show up today…” No one knew the real reason I dropped out back then. But they all knew I liked Tyler, and that I’d given him a gift. The girl sitting next to Brittany nudged her to stop. The class president frowned. “Brittany, shut up. Tyler’s been looking for Maya for eight years. He’ll just be happy she’s here.” Brittany laughed out loud. “Tyler’s a nice guy, okay? Everyone knows you have to apologize even if you just reject someone… “He’s been looking for her for eight years just so he can apologize. “Is it a crime not to like someone? Everyone knows Maya transferred school because Tyler humiliated her. You make it sound like Tyler actually liked her. “Doesn’t Tyler have a girl he likes now? I heard she’s rich and beautiful. What’s Maya got going for her, besides being pretty? A crippled dad? A house that’s literally falling apart? “Give me a break…” Brittany was getting cruel, and the others were starting to look uncomfortable. I stood up, my expression completely calm. Not angry. “I’m not staying to eat, so you don’t have to worry about your appetite, Brittany. I just came to see everyone. Now that I have, I’m going.” With that, I pulled open the door and walked out. The class president ran out after me. He grabbed my hand, looking intense. “Tyler really has been looking for you for eight years. You aren’t going to wait for him?” Tyler’s face flashed in my mind. So handsome. Such beautiful eyes. But when he looked at me, there was never any emotion in them. Just that smirk on his lips. I shook my head, smiling. “I’m on a tight schedule. When you see him, tell him I’m sorry. Truly… I am so sorry.” The class president froze where he stood. 07 After I left, I bought a lot of ritual spirit money. I burned so much of it at my parents’ graves. Enough to last them a hundred lifetimes. After burning the money, I went back to look at our old house. Everything inside was covered in dust. I didn’t clean it. I didn’t touch anything. I stood by the door for a long time until it was pitch black outside. There are no streetlights in the countryside. I checked my phone; it was almost 11 PM. I called a cab to take me to the锦江 bridge. The river was very peaceful at night. Occasionally, a motorcycle would pass by—delivery guys. I held onto my suitcase and stopped at the edge of the bridge. No one paid me any attention because I had a suitcase. They probably just thought I was tired of walking and was resting. I waited until midnight, until there was not a single person left around. I taped a note to my suitcase, climbed over the railing, and without a second thought, I jumped. In the second I fell, I might have hallucinated, because I thought I heard Tyler’s voice. “Fuck, don’t you dare jump, Maya!” 08 As I lost consciousness, I seemed to see Tyler again, wearing our high school uniform, leaning against the hallway railing under the dim lights. His jacket was loose around his frame, a lollipop hanging from his mouth. He raised an eyebrow, eyes filled with laughter. “Well, if it isn’t the class valedictorian?” I’d heard about Tyler Cole since my freshman year. The girls in class talked about him every single day. He was just that good-looking. His skin was fair, his features sharp and defined. There was something magnetic about him when he smiled—dangerous and alluring. When the classes were reshuffled sophomore year, I ended up in the same class as Tyler. He sat right behind me. After class, a crowd always gathered around him, chattering. I’d never had so many people around me before. I wasn’t used to it, so I’d always grab my water bottle and pretend to go refill it. Truth was, I was just hiding by the back door. And that’s how I heard them talking about me. “What was the advisor thinking? He knows Ty likes hot girls, but the only girl near him is the nerd valedictorian.” “The advisor is brutal. Everyone knows Ty dated a ton of cute girls freshman year. Now, he’s cutting him off. Maya doesn’t even count as a girl.” “Honestly, Ty, I have never seen anyone as plain as Maya. Who still wears those tiny, thin-rimmed glasses? Her bangs are so long they cover her face, and her uniform is always done up perfectly. She looks like a total grandma.” “Ty, you wouldn’t actually be interested in her, would you?” That question was followed by a burst of laughter. “Fuck off.” That was Tyler’s voice. It had that roughness of puberty, but it was nice. Then, he let out a short laugh. “Me? Tyler Cole? Do you really think my standards are that low?” I froze. I looked down at my scuffed sneakers and uniform pants, and suddenly felt a profound sense of humiliation. I kept my head down until they finished talking before silently going back to my seat. 09 My seat never felt like mine after class. There was always a constant stream of girls coming to see Tyler. And Tyler never turned anyone away. Later, the school added a mandatory swimming class. We had to order swimsuits—they were $180 a set. Before class ended, the teacher told me: “The valedictorian will handle collecting the money.” Brittany let out a quiet laugh and raised her hand. “Teacher, everyone knows Maya’s family is poor. Is it really a good idea to trust her with all that money?” My hands clenched under my desk. Brittany had hated me since freshman year. I didn’t expect to be in the same class with her again sophomore year. I usually lived by the rule of not making trouble, so I was about to tell the teacher to have someone else do it. Just then, a hand with long, elegant fingers appeared in front of my face. “Here, valedictorian.” I looked up. Tyler was looking down at me. His eyes were stunning. I was dazed for a moment. Maybe I stared too long, because the guy next to Tyler nudged him, smirking. “Well, looks like another one’s hooked.” That snapped me out of it. Tyler suddenly leaned in close. My pupils dilated. He smiled, a charming, dangerous look. He whispered right in my ear: “I know I’m hot, but valedictorian… “You are not my type.” I lowered my eyes, took the money from his hand, turned back to my desk, and nodded. “I know.” Tyler seemed stunned for a second. He raised an eyebrow. “Good. Stick to your books, nerd.” With that, Tyler stood up, grabbed his basketball, and walked out of the classroom. 10 The others didn’t hear what Tyler said to me. They just knew Tyler had stepped in for me. So they all handed me their money. Brittany gave me hers reluctantly, giving me a warning look. “Stay away from Tyler. Take a look at your own family before you go dreaming. You’re completely out of your league.” I ignored her, quietly collected all the money, and then used my own lunch money to pay for my swimsuit set. After counting the money and making sure it was all there, I immediately handed it in to the teacher. By the time I was done, it was lunchtime, and most people were already eating. I took a bun out of my bag and started eating it in the empty classroom. My head was spinning, trying to figure out where to find a part-time job to make up for my lunch money. If I asked my parents, they would give it to me, but I didn’t want to. While I was halfway through eating, Tyler walked in. He looked surprised to see me. I just glanced at him once before lowering my eyes and continuing to eat my bun. Tyler walked straight to his seat. Suddenly, he poked me. His voice was rough. “Done eating, nerd?” I shoved the last two bites of the bun into my mouth, turned around, and nodded silently. He leaned sideways, lifting his uniform shirt. His waist had a massive scrape that was still seeping blood. He tilted his head, smiling at me. “Help me put some medicine on this, will you?” I chewed the bun quickly and nodded. “Okay.” I walked over to his side and crouched down. I looked at the medicine bottle he took out of his pocket and frowned. “Why didn’t you buy iodine? Alcohol is going to hurt like hell.” Tyler let out a soft laugh. “Real men aren’t afraid of pain.” As soon as he said that, I soaked a cotton ball in alcohol and dabbed it onto his wound. “Hiss—” I looked up at Tyler. “Real man?” Tyler looked down at me, stunned for a second. Then he laughed. “Valedictorian, your eyelashes are really long.” It was an absolutely careless, casual comment. I knew that. I lowered my eyes, but my hand got a little heavier with the cotton ball. Tyler didn’t make a sound, but his abs were rock hard, showing just how much pain he was in. He finally couldn’t take it anymore. He said through gritted teeth: “Fuck, that hurts… be gentle.” I paused, and without thinking, I gently blew air onto the wound. After I did it, I froze. Tyler froze, too. Then, neither of us said another word. 11 After I put the medicine on Tyler, we went back to being like strangers. After class, I’d even see him walking different girls back to their dorms. There was a massive tree right in front of our dorm building. Tyler and one girl were standing under that tree. The girl was gorgeous—a senior. She stood on her tiptoes, pouting at Tyler. Just as Tyler leaned down, he suddenly glanced over in my direction. I immediately turned my head away. Tyler shifted his gaze. He just leaned down, pinched the girl’s cheek, smiled, and walked away. For some reason, I always found myself paying a little more attention to Tyler. Lying on my dorm bed, I thought about it and finally came to a conclusion. I just liked his face. It was nice just looking at him. Later, whenever I ran into Tyler with other girls, I’d immediately walk somewhere I couldn’t see him. Or I’d walk far behind them, keeping my head down. I figured that way I wouldn’t offend him. The next time Tyler got hurt, he came to find me holding the medicine bottle. It was his arm this time. He leaned one arm on my desk, raised his injured arm, blinked at me, and said, “Valedictorian…” I’d just picked up the medicine when I saw that senior girl walking toward us. I shot up from my seat so fast my head slammed into Tyler’s chin. “Hiss—Nerd, you don’t have to headbutt me just because you’re happy to see me. What if I get a concussion…” He reached out his hand toward my head. I backed up, dodging his hand. Seeing the senior girl getting closer, I hurriedly bowed to Tyler and ran off. Tyler was left standing there, his expression hard to read.

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