My boyfriend, Liam, shaved my head for his childhood friend. Dolores was losing her hair to chemotherapy, so he demanded I give her mine. “Dolores’s allergic to the synthetic ones on the market,” he’d said, his voice flat. “You’ve been growing your hair for a decade. It’s perfect for a wig.” I refused. So his friends pinned me down, holding my arms and legs while he took an electric razor and scraped it against my scalp until my long, glossy black hair was nothing but a butchered mess. Dolores, sitting in her wheelchair, pointed at me and burst out laughing. “Liam, look at her! She looks so ridiculous, like a plucked frog.” A smile touched Liam’s lips as he nodded in agreement. “See? Was all this fuss really necessary?” But he knew. He knew that a choppy, uneven haircut had once been the reason I was bullied for six long years. Back then, he had been the one to stand in front of me, arms spread wide, my protector. Now, he was the one holding the blade. His friends chimed in, one after another. “Come on, don’t hold it against a sick person.” Liam turned, his voice sharp with impatience. “Don’t bother. Just let her go. She’s acting like it’s the end of the world over a few strands of hair. It’s not like it won’t grow back.” So I turned and walked away. And I never looked back. Later, I heard that to win me back, Liam Foster knelt his way up a nine-thousand-step cathedral staircase, ruining his knees in the process. 1 The pressure on my limbs vanished. I was free. “Liam, look at her! She’s hilarious, like a little toad,” Dolores shrieked from her wheelchair, pointing a slender finger at my now-bare head. His friends roared with laughter, slapping each other on the back. Liam glanced at me, his expression casual. “Dolores’s allergic to store-bought wigs. Your hair was long enough, so it was the perfect solution.” His words were a distant hum. I couldn’t hear them over the sound of my own heart shattering. I reached up, my fingers finding only a few stray wisps of hair, and a fresh wave of agony washed over me. Just two hours earlier, Liam had called to tell me I had to come to Dolores’s birthday party. I didn’t get along with Dolores, not really. But it was a request from Liam, and Dolores was, after all, a cancer patient. So I went, gift in hand. I never imagined the “party” was a trap. A setup for them to hold me down and forcibly shave my head. Looking at Liam’s cold, indifferent face, I remembered the rare moment of affection he’d shown me just a couple of days ago. He’d brought me a set of expensive, high-end hair care products. “The air’s been dry lately,” he’d said. “Make sure you take good care of your hair.” I was so surprised, so flattered by the gesture, that I’d used them that very night. Only now did the sickening truth dawn on me. He wasn’t asking me to care for my hair for my sake. He was preparing it so Dolores’s new wig would be as comfortable as possible. Suddenly, Liam started walking toward me. For a fleeting, foolish moment, I thought he felt a pang of guilt, that he was coming to apologize. Instead, he pinched the last remaining lock of hair from my shoulder with a look of distaste and snipped it off without a second thought. He turned to his friends. “Can’t you guys do a clean job? Why leave this bit behind? I treat you all to dinner, and you can’t even do one simple thing right.” The group erupted in jeers and laughter. “Our bad, our bad! Hey, look, you think Ava’s gonna cry?” “Dolores’s the one who’s sick, swallowing all that medicine every day, and you don’t see her whining.” The barbs flew, one after another, but Liam’s expression never changed. His friends had never liked me. I was an outsider, a charity case who didn’t fit into their wealthy, pedigreed world. I was never invited to their gatherings, and when I once asked Liam if he could take me with him, he just brushed me off. “We run in different circles, Ava. Don’t try to force it.” Seeing my blank stare, Liam’s gaze finally settled on me. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Ava, you’re not actually mad, are you? Lighten up. Think of it as doing a good deed.” My eyes filled with a grief so profound it ached. “I just have one question. Was this your idea, or was it Dolores’s?” Dolores wheeled herself between us, two perfect tears tracing paths down her pale cheeks. “It was my idea. If you have a problem, take it up with me. Don’t make things difficult for Liam.” Instantly, Liam’s face hardened as he glared at me. “Dolores’s a patient. Can you stop upsetting her? She’s like a sister to me, we grew up together. What’s the big deal with you, her future sister-in-law, donating a wig?” His casual dismissal was a physical blow. My eyes stung. How could someone change so completely? Years ago, when my parents forced me to cut my hair short to sell it for my brother’s new toys, I was relentlessly bullied for my ragged appearance. It was Liam who had stood in front of me, grinning defiantly. “From now on,” he’d declared, “I’ve got your back. And your hair.” The memory drained the last of my strength. My voice was quiet, hollow. “Liam, as of today, we’re done.” I looked him in the eye. “You can wire me the money for the hair. I’m under no obligation to donate it to her.” 2 Liam froze, then reached out and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead, a scornful laugh escaping his lips. “Ava, are you trying to break up with me?” he scoffed. “You don’t have a fever. What’s with the crazy talk?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, menacing whisper. “You’ve been with me for eight years. You really think you’ll find anyone else to marry you after this? Who would want you, Ava? Can you stop being so damn dramatic?” The tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill over. So he did remember. Eight years. Our friends used to say that after dating for so long, a lover becomes family. But Liam hadn’t become my family. And lately, he felt less and less like my lover. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood and met his gaze head-on. “There are plenty of men in the world. It’s not like you’re my only option.” Liam’s face darkened. His friends, sensing the shift, started to speak up. “Alright, that’s enough. Liam’s already trying to be nice here, Ava. Don’t push it.” “It’s just a wig! Get Liam to buy you a new one. Hell, buy seven, one for every day of the week, haha!” After his friends had their fun, Dolores chimed in, her voice trembling with manufactured fragility. “This is all my fault. Ava, I’ll pay you for the wig, okay? Please, just don’t make things hard for Liam.” She blinked, her eyes welling up again, a picture of pathetic innocence that clearly tugged at Liam’s heartstrings. He shot me a venomous look, as if I were his mortal enemy. “Ava, if you have a problem, take it up with me!” he snarled. “Dolores is sick. She’s very, very sick. Why do you have to pick on a patient? You’ve changed. You were never like this before!” I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, Dolores clutched her stomach and let out a pained cry. “Liam, it hurts… Help me…” In a flash, Liam shoved me aside. I stumbled backward, caught off guard, and my leg hit a chair, sending me crashing to the floor. “Hiss—” A sharp pain shot through me. Liam saw me fall, but there wasn’t a flicker of concern in his eyes. Instead, he roared at me, his voice cracking with rage. “Get the hell out of the way! You whine and cry about a stupid haircut, but then you go and upset Dolores when you know how fragile she is! If anything happens to her, I swear to God, I will never forgive you!” With that, he scooped Dolores into his arms and stormed out, his pack of cronies trailing behind him. The last one to leave, the one holding my severed hair, casually tossed the long, dark bundle into a nearby trash can. I stared for a moment, stunned. Then I scrambled over, my hands shaking as I carefully gathered my hair from the garbage. The tears finally came, hot and unstoppable. In that moment, a decision crystallized in my heart. I was leaving Liam Foster. … I went to a barbershop and had them shave my head properly, evening it out. Then I booked a cheap room at a motel. When I returned to the apartment to pack my things, Liam was there, looking exhausted. His eyes landed on the suitcase in my hand, and his face instantly soured. He strode forward and kicked my suitcase, sending it skidding across the floor. “How long are you going to keep this act up?” he demanded. “The doctor said Dolores’s condition has worsened. It’s all your fault for agitating her! I haven’t even dealt with you yet, and you’re the one playing the victim?” I laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. “So Dolores’s cancer is my fault now? Liam, do you even hear the stupid things you’re saying?” He seemed taken aback, probably because he’d never heard me use that tone with him before. He just stood there, momentarily speechless. I ignored him, picked up my suitcase, and continued packing. I didn’t have much. After living here for eight years, everything I owned barely filled two 26-inch suitcases. I glanced at Liam, who was watching me in silence. “Whenever you get around to sending the money for the hair,” I said casually, “I’ll pay my share of the rent.” 3 “You think I need your pathetic rent money?” Liam grabbed my arm, his grip like iron, his face a thundercloud. “Ava, have you had enough of this drama? Do you seriously think you can support yourself alone?” He shook his head in disgust. “I swear, I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours! I buy you skincare, you don’t use it. I buy you jewelry, you don’t wear it. I ask you to dress better, and you come up with a million excuses!” Every time we fought, it was the same old story. He’d bring up the skincare, forgetting it made my skin break out in hives. He’d complain about the jewelry, ignoring the time his friends mocked me, claiming it was a cheap knockoff. He’d criticize my ‘drab’ clothes, completely disregarding that my government job had a conservative dress code. When I didn’t respond, his words grew even more reckless. “What, nothing to say? Or are you planning to run back to your dead-end hometown and get married off?!” That last sentence struck me like a physical blow. I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief. After my high school graduation, my family had tried to lock me up and marry me off for cash. It was Liam who had saved me, who had pulled me from that hell. He had promised that as long as he was around, no one would ever hurt me again. He seemed to have forgotten that promise. He had become just as cruel and ugly as the people he’d once saved me from. My family background was a mess. I was frugal by nature. But what was so wrong with that? Tears welled in my eyes, and my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. I didn’t say a word. I finally, completely understood. Liam Foster was a lost cause. He would die before ever admitting he was wrong. I grabbed my suitcase, determined to leave. Liam exploded. He seized the suitcase and hurled it to the ground with all his might. The latches burst, and the case split open, spilling my neatly folded clothes onto the floor. “Liam, we’re broken up! Who gave you the right to touch my things?” He yanked me back by the arm. His strength was immense, and my head slammed into the sharp corner of a table. A sudden, hot stream of liquid flooded my vision. I blinked frantically, but all I could see was a blur. Liam panicked, rushing towards me. “Ava, don’t be scared, I’m taking you to the hospital right now.” Just then, his phone rang. Dolores’s weak, faint voice crackled through the speaker. “Liam… I’m outside your building… I’m coughing up blood. What do I do? It hurts so much.” The color drained from Liam’s face. He let go of my arm. “Ava, just wait for me. Dolores’s having an attack. I have to get her to the hospital first!” Blood was pouring into my eyes. All I could see was a hazy silhouette in front of me. I grabbed onto his leg, trying to stop him. “Liam, I can’t see. Please, just call an ambulance for me…” Without a second thought, he kicked me away. “I told you to fucking wait! Are you deaf?!” he screamed. “Can’t you wait for one damn minute? Are you in such a hurry to die?!” The force of the kick knocked the wind out of me, and I couldn’t get up. Liam was already gone. The front door slammed shut with a final, resounding bang.

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My wife, the Colonel, believed our son needed to be a man. So, against my every objection, she had him deployed to a peacekeeping mission in the Middle East. “I was on the front lines when I was just a teenager,” she’d scoffed. “Look at him. Does he even look like a man to you?” Our son came back with the Medal of Honor. The price was his life. I went to find her, carrying the box with his ashes. But when I arrived, I saw her latest post online: a photo of her first love, Christopher, and his daughter, Cece. The caption read: [A living Medal of Honor recipient. A credit to our guidance.] In the photo, Cece was wearing the medal that belonged to my son. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just filed a report against my wife with the military court. 1 Our son’s remains fit into a small, flag-draped box. When Major General Thorne handed it to me, her expression was one of pure compassion. “I’m so sorry, Noah,” she said, her voice heavy. “By the time we got there, all that was left were… fragments.” The only other thing they recovered was his blood-soaked uniform. The fabric was shredded, a canvas of bullet holes and knife slashes. I opened the box just a crack before slamming it shut. The acrid smell of old blood assaulted my senses. I clutched the box and the uniform to my chest, fell to my knees, and wept. His last call echoed in my mind, a phantom playing on a loop. “Dad, it hurts… they cut a hole in my stomach… If I don’t talk, they’re going to cut my throat next. Dad… I’m scared. Their knife is rusty. It’ll take a few tries before I die… But I can’t talk. If I talk, my brothers will die… Dad, it’s okay if no one else remembers me, but you’ll remember me, right? Please? They’re coming! Dad! DAD! AHHH!” His final, agonizing scream was seared into my memory. The torture lasted ten minutes, but he never uttered a single word of intel. The only thing he kept repeating was, “Dad, save me!” I had scrambled for help, frantically calling my wife, Colonel Evelyn Vance. She never answered. Long after our son was dead, a text from her finally came through. [Christopher’s dealing with something. I don’t have time for your childish jealousy.] Major General Thorne helped me to my feet, her eyes full of apology. “I’m sorry I was late.” I shook my head. “No. This wasn’t your mission. I know you did everything you could.” I turned to leave, holding the box and the uniform, but a hand fell on my shoulder. Diana Thorne, my childhood friend, looked at me, her expression a mixture of emotions I couldn’t decipher. “Let me give you a ride back.” I shook my head again. “It’s okay, I can manage. Thank you for bringing Aaron home to me. I’m already so grateful.” I gave her a deep, formal bow and walked away. Her hand hung in the air for a moment before she let it fall. 2 On the way home, my phone buzzed with news alerts. [Major Cecelia Croft, embedded for months, single-handedly takes down terrorist stronghold!] [Peacekeeping Hero Promoted! A True Heroine for the Ages!] [She is the Nation’s Pride.] The military section of every news site was flooded with Cecelia “Cece” Croft’s “heroic deeds.” The comment sections were a frenzy. [OMG QUEEN SO BADASS!] [I heard those terrorists love to torture people, like turning them into paste. For Major Croft to survive that long alone is incredible!] [I heard she’s the daughter of the pop star Christopher Croft! And that Colonel Vance personally mentored her!] [Could Christopher be the Colonel’s secret husband??] [Definitely. Did you see the Colonel’s comment on his latest post? You don’t talk like that unless you’re family.] [Sobbing, what a power family!] The more I read, the tighter my fists clenched. The real hero was lying silently in a small box, his body too shattered to be pieced back together. And Cece Croft—who had spent her entire deployment in the Green Zone—was being hailed as the deep-cover operative? Stealing someone’s commendation wasn’t something Cece could pull off alone. Evelyn had to be behind it. My phone buzzed again. A call from Evelyn. “Delete it,” she snapped, without preamble. “Don’t make me say it twice.” I frowned. “What?” “Don’t play dumb, Noah! Look at what you’ve been reposting! If I weren’t suppressing it on my end, the media would have already run with the baseless rumors you’re spreading! What do you expect them to do then?” “Baseless?!” My hand trembled. “That was Aaron’s commendation! Cece spent her entire tour bullying him because he was a lower rank! The only thing she did on this mission was show up at the end for a photo op! Aaron did all the work! How dare she waltz in and take everything from him!” “Enough!” Evelyn’s voice was sharp. “I know you’re prone to jealousy, but military honors are a serious matter! Cece spent months in a foreign country. Do you have any idea how hard that is for a young woman? Christopher has been worried sick about her every single day. After all their hardship, you think you can just erase their sacrifice with a few words?” I laughed, and a tear rolled down my cheek. “Cece was here for a few months and you made her a Major with zero experience! Aaron was here for years, and you held him back so he couldn’t even make Sergeant! Who had it easy? Christopher is living a glamorous life back home while I’m stuck here in a war zone! Who had it hard?” “That’s enough!” Evelyn’s voice was laced with fury. “Not only are you slandering Cece, but now you’re running your mouth like this? Was this Aaron’s idea? Tell him to report to my office immediately!” My knuckles turned white where they gripped the box. “He’s not coming. He was killed in action.” Silence on the other end of the line. Then, a low, cold laugh. “Noah, to think you’d stoop this low. Now you’re even making up lies about our son’s death just to compete with Christopher? I don’t have the patience for your petty games. If I don’t see that brat by five o’clock, he can spend the rest of his life as a private.” She hung up. I clutched the bloody uniform, my tears soaking into the tattered fabric. 3 Back at the cold, empty villa, I began to pack our son’s things. When he first arrived, Evelyn hadn’t allowed him to bring much, claiming a soldier’s true test was to make something from nothing. So, he had only smuggled in a single photograph of the three of us. I tore Evelyn’s half from the photo, wrapped Aaron’s ashes and bloody uniform in the flag, and called for a bus to the airport. Evelyn would never offer me a convenience like a driver. Even when I first came here, she forbade me from using her private car, forcing me to stumble my way from the bus stop to this house. The dog she kept was tied up by the gate. I kept my distance. As expected, it began to bark furiously the moment I approached. I’d lived here for years, but it still only recognized Evelyn and Christopher. Some dogs can never be tamed. I took the long way around, only to see a black government sedan parked out front. I froze as I heard a familiar voice. “Evelyn, I’m not a child. You don’t have to guide me out of the car.” Then, Evelyn’s voice, softer than I’d ever heard it. “You’ve never been here before. It’s unfamiliar territory. I was worried.” Christopher Croft’s polished leather shoes stepped onto the pavement. Though he’d said it wasn’t necessary, his hand casually found its way to the small of Evelyn’s back, resting on her waist. Evelyn’s face flushed, but she didn’t pull away. The guard dog immediately started wagging its tail. Christopher was about to pet it when he saw me. He jumped back with a theatrical gasp. “Ah! You scared me to death!” Evelyn turned, her brow furrowed in annoyance. “What are you doing, looking like that?” I’d cried for days. My chin was covered in rough stubble, my eyes were undoubtedly red and swollen with exhaustion. Evelyn didn’t ask what had happened to me. She just demanded, “Didn’t I tell you to have Aaron report to me by five? It’s already dark. Where did he run off to? Everyone has already been by to congratulate Cece, but he’s the only one hiding. His Uncle Christopher is here and he doesn’t even come to greet him. Who does he think he is? Don’t think I’ll favor him unconditionally just because he’s my son!” I finally snapped. “What have you ever favored him with?!” I had always been calm, even-tempered. Even when she sent our son here, I had never been this hysterical. Evelyn was stunned into silence. My eyes blazing, I grabbed her by the collar. “You always talk about favoring him, but when have you ever done it? He was bullied by Cece in the army, and you looked the other way! Cece got a scratch on her hand from roughhousing with her subordinates, and you had her flown back to the States for treatment! Our son was suppressed by her, and you did nothing! She had less experience than him, but you promoted her to Major straight away! Even I am stuck here, living in filth, while you support Christopher’s glamorous life back home! So tell me, Evelyn! What have you ever favored him with? Who is your real family?!” Faced with my tirade for the first time, Evelyn seemed to buckle, grabbing my hands. “What are you talking about? Christopher and I are just friends! Can you stop being so jealous?” “Who’s jealous of you?!” I slapped her across the face. Her head snapped to the side. She turned back slowly, her eyes wide with disbelief. I gritted my teeth. “Don’t act like I can’t live without you. Evelyn, I regret it. I should have divorced you years ago. Then our son wouldn’t have…” At the word “divorce,” Evelyn’s pupils contracted. “You…” But she was cut off by Christopher. “Noah, don’t you think you’re going too far?” 4 Christopher stepped in front of Evelyn, shielding her. “Evelyn and I have a good relationship, but we’ve always been open about it. You, on the other hand…” He looked me up and down, a sneer of contempt on his face. “Meeting with the Major General in secret… that seems a lot more suspicious, doesn’t it?” “What?” Evelyn’s eyes narrowed. Christopher pulled out his phone and showed her a photo. The moment Evelyn saw it, her breathing grew ragged, her fists clenching. It was the photo of Diana placing a hand on my shoulder. The angle was deceptively intimate. With my back to the camera, it looked like we were whispering to each other. Christopher let out a cold laugh. “If I remember correctly, Major General Thorne came to this war zone for you, didn’t she, Noah? You claim to be just friends, but you’ve been meeting with her quite often. And secretly accepting her gifts, too.” “Shut up!” I couldn’t stand it anymore. “I went to Diana because of our son—” “Does that give you an excuse to have secret meetings behind Evelyn’s back?” Christopher cut me off, grabbing my arm. “Ah, what’s this passport for? General Thorne is heading back to the States in a couple of days. You’re not planning to fly back with her to get married, are you? No wonder you want a divorce from Evelyn.” “Shut your mouth!” I roared, raising my hand to strike him. But before I could, a sharper, more vicious slap landed on my own face. 5 Evelyn stood in front of Christopher, her chest heaving. “No wonder you were acting so strangely today. You had your escape route planned all along, didn’t you?” She snatched the passport from my hand and kicked my suitcase. It burst open, sending the box and the blood-soaked uniform spilling onto the ground. Christopher wrinkled his nose in disgust. “What is this? Noah, since when did you take up collecting trash?” “You have no right to say that!” I lunged at him, but Evelyn kicked me squarely in the chest, sending me slamming against the wall. Her voice was ice. “You’re becoming more and more unhinged. Collecting perverted things like this. What, is it a gift from Diana? You’ll take anything she gives you, won’t you?” She grabbed the small box wrapped in the flag. “What kind of trash gets to be wrapped in the flag of our country?” she sneered. She ripped the flag off and tossed the box to one of her aides. “Take it. Feed it to the dog.” “Yes, Colonel!” “NO!!” I scrambled forward like a madman, but Evelyn blocked me. “You spend all your days accusing me of things, while you’re the one cheating on me?” “NO! Those are our son’s ashes! Make him stop! The dog listens to you! Make it stop!!”

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At my father’s birthday party, as he was making a wish over his cake, my mother leaned in and whispered something in his ear. My father, a man who cherished his life above all else, jumped from the balcony a moment later. After his death, countless people asked my mother what she had said. Someone even offered a million dollars for her secret. But she remained silent. Until my wedding day. My mother showed up at the ceremony. And whispered that same secret into my fiancé’s ear… 1 My mother became famous after my father died. My dad was known for his fierce love of life. His sudden suicide could only be explained by the words my mother had whispered to him. Everyone wanted to know what they were. Rich women in unhappy marriages offered her a million dollars, hoping to buy the words that could kill. But my mother never spoke. Not even when the police interrogated her. She just lowered her head and remained silent. In the end, she was sentenced to three years in prison for inciting suicide. After handling my father’s funeral, I visited her in prison. “Mom,” I pleaded, “what did you say to Dad? Why did he kill himself?” Through the thick glass partition, her expression was serene. “He didn’t want to live anymore. What does that have to do with me?” Her calm indifference was a knife to my heart. “Dad would rush to the hospital for a paper cut, terrified of an infection,” I said, my voice choked with bitterness. “His birthday wish was always to live to be a hundred, to see me get married and hold his grandchildren. Tell me, why would a man like that suddenly kill himself?” I was heartbroken, but more than that, I was confused. My father was a kind man, and he and my mother had always seemed happy together. Why would she say something to drive him to suicide? What could she possibly have said? In response to my questions, she only gave me a long, deep look. “Stop asking,” she said, her voice flat. “Knowing too much won’t do you any good.” 2 With that, she ended the visit. I went home. The house that was once filled with laughter now held only a black-and-white portrait of my father. A sharp pain pierced my heart, and my confusion deepened. I went into my parents’ room, searching for any clue, any hint of an answer. In the closet, their clothes were neatly folded. My mother had once said that my father looked handsome in white, so he only ever bought white clothes. My mother loved gold, so my father had filled a drawer with gold jewelry for her. My mother’s health was frail, so my father’s nightstand was stocked with all the medications she might need. The more I looked, the less I understood. Every corner of this room screamed of love and happiness. My father had been so good to us. Why would my mother destroy it all? I wanted answers, but after our last conversation, she refused to see me again. Her cold, resolute silence left me heartbroken. I moved out of that house of sorrow and into an apartment with my long-time boyfriend, Alex. In those lonely, helpless days, Alex was my rock. He was gentle and considerate, accepting and caring, wrapping me in his unconditional love. Three years later, we set a date for our wedding. The night before the ceremony, Alex asked me tentatively, “Emma, your mom is out of prison now. This is such an important day for us. Aren’t you going to invite her? Are you still angry with her?” I paused. “I just can’t understand it,” I said honestly. “My dad was such a good person. Why would she want him dead?” Alex didn’t hesitate. “What if it was all a misunderstanding? How could a single sentence really make someone kill themselves? Maybe your dad’s death hit her so hard that she couldn’t bear to talk about it.” He squeezed my hand, his voice gentle. “No matter what, she’s still your mother. A wedding is a huge milestone. You should let her know. She’s the only family you have left in this world. Imagine how hurt she’d be if she found out her only daughter got married without inviting her.” Alex was always like that—kind, thoughtful, always putting others first. In the years of my confusion and despair, he had been my sun, warming me, teaching me how to walk out of the darkness and into the light. His words filled me with a bittersweet warmth. After a moment’s thought, I sent my mother an invitation. 3 The next day was the wedding. To show how much he valued me, Alex had planned a grand, lavish ceremony. The venue was packed with guests, buzzing with excitement. My mother came. I hadn’t seen her in years, and she had gotten thinner. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and the streaks of grey in her hair made her look weary, ancient. Her face was expressionless, her gaze shifting only between me and Alex. It had been so long. I felt like there was a depth to her eyes that I couldn’t penetrate. At the officiant’s invitation, my mother walked onto the stage. Alex, beaming with excitement and happiness, made a promise to her. “Ma’am, thank you so much for coming to our wedding. Please don’t worry. I will take good care of Emma. I’ll spend the rest of my life loving her and making sure she never has to suffer.” As the mood lightened, the officiant held the microphone to my mother. “As the mother of the bride, is there anything you’d like to say to your daughter?” My mother, who should have been offering me her blessings, simply said, “No.” Her voice was calm. “I only have one thing to say to my son-in-law.” With that, she stepped forward, leaned close to Alex’s ear, and whispered. The smile on Alex’s face vanished, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated terror. His eyes darted to me. Then, as if possessed, he bolted towards the hotel balcony. “Alex, stop!” I screamed. He didn’t hear me. He was running as if from a monster, and with a desperate, decisive leap, he threw himself over the railing. THUD! The sound of a heavy impact was followed by a symphony of screams from below. It all happened so fast. By the time anyone reacted, Alex was already lying in a twisted heap in a pool of blood. Silent. Still. 4 Alex was dead. He died at our wedding. Killed by my mother’s words. The guests rushed downstairs, staring in shock and horror at the scene. Alex’s mother collapsed to the ground, cradling his body and weeping hysterically. I felt my heart shatter, my body go limp. The man who had just promised to love me for the rest of his life was now a bloody corpse. I couldn’t accept it. Just then, my mother descended the stairs, her movements slow and deliberate. She calmly tucked a stray hair behind her ear, as if the chaos around her was of no concern. Seeing her, Alex’s father pointed a trembling finger, his voice shaking with rage. “What did you say to my son? Why did he kill himself the moment he heard your words?” Alex’s other relatives and friends joined in, their voices thick with grief and fury. “You venomous witch! Today was supposed to be the happiest day of Alex’s life! Why did you have to come here and ruin it?” “We heard you killed your own husband with a single sentence. We knew you were no good! But Alex insisted we had misunderstood you. He even told us not to judge you, not to talk about what happened to your husband. He was always thinking of you, and this is how you repay him? Are you even human?!” “People like you should rot in prison for the rest of your lives!” Through it all, my mother remained calm, indifferent. “He chose to kill himself. What does that have to do with me?” Her voice was light, as if she were a mere bystander. Alex’s mother, heartbroken, suddenly lunged forward and grabbed my mother by the collar. “You murderer!” she screamed through her tears. “Give me back my son! My son was a kind man his whole life! He never did a single bad thing! He loved your daughter with all his heart, gave her everything! Before the wedding, he begged us to be good to her. He said he wanted to live a happy life with her, have children, grow old together! He was so optimistic, so full of hope for the future! How could he possibly kill himself? Tell me! What did you say to him? Why did you kill him?!” Alex’s mother, always so gentle and loving, had completely broken down. I didn’t stop her. I looked at my mother with utter disappointment, my voice aching with pain. “Why? Wasn’t killing Dad enough? Why did you have to kill Alex too?” My father had been so good to me. Our family had been so happy. But my mother’s words destroyed it all. Then Alex came into my life, his love healing me, making me feel the warmth of a family again. Now, just as we were about to build a new life together, my mother had torn it all down again, killing the man I loved, destroying everything I had ever hoped for. Alex’s death ignited a fire of hatred for my mother that consumed me. She looked at me, a flicker of something—uncertainty?—in her eyes. “You think that of me too?” “I just want to know,” I sobbed. “What did you say to them?” I remembered it clearly now. The day my father died, he had looked at me with that same expression of terror, just like Alex, before he jumped. I had to know. What words could make two kind, optimistic men make such an extreme choice? The guests and onlookers erupted, screaming at my mother. “First your husband, now your son-in-law! You murderer! You don’t deserve to live!” “If you don’t give us an explanation today, we won’t let you leave here alive!” “Tell us! What did you say to them?” Facing the crowd’s accusations, my mother coolly shook off Alex’s mother’s hand. She straightened her collar and surveyed the crowd. “I can say it,” she said, her voice cold. “But do you dare to listen?” The noisy scene fell silent. Everyone was frozen, their faces etched with fear. These were words that killed. Anyone who heard them chose suicide without hesitation. They were curious, but they were also terrified. As everyone stood silent, I stepped forward. “I dare.” Because of a single sentence, the father who adored me and the man who loved me were both dead. I had to know why. Even if it meant my own death, I wasn’t afraid. My mother looked at me, her gaze deep. “Are you sure you won’t regret it?” I nodded. “I’m sure.” Her expression softened slightly. Finally, she leaned in close to my ear and whispered the words. 5 After my mother spoke, all eyes were on me. Just moments before, they had all witnessed Alex jump to his death, his face a mask of terror, right after my mother had whispered in his ear. They were waiting to see my reaction. Waiting to see if I, too, would kill myself. But under their curious and tense gazes, I did nothing strange. I just frowned at my mother. “You’re lying,” I said, my voice firm. “You couldn’t have said that to them.” Faced with my disbelief, my mother’s expression remained placid. “I’ve told you. Whether you believe it or not is up to you.” “If that’s all you said, why would Dad and Alex kill themselves?” I retorted without hesitation. They were both such optimistic, kind men. How could a simple sentence like that drive them to suicide? At that moment, I was certain she was lying to me. But her face was a mask of sincerity. “As I said, they chose to kill themselves. It has nothing to do with me.” My passionate accusations and her calm explanations left the crowd bewildered. They stared at us, their eyes full of suspicion and doubt. Before I could speak again, police cars arrived, sirens wailing. Several officers got out and walked straight to my mother. “We received a call that you are suspected of deliberately inciting someone to commit suicide. This is the second death you’ve been involved in. Please come with us for questioning.” Facing the police again, my mother said nothing. She silently allowed them to handcuff her and lead her to the car. Through the car window, she looked at me, her gaze deep and meaningful, as if there were a thousand things she wanted to say. I had the strangest feeling that there was something she was desperate to tell me, but for some reason, she couldn’t. As I watched, the police car drove away, taking my mother with it. Even after she was gone, the crowd continued to stare at me. When it became clear that I was fine, Alex’s mother approached me, her voice hesitant. “Emma, what did your mother say to you?” 6 In the years after my father’s death and my mother’s imprisonment, Alex had cared for me devotedly, and his mother had treated me like her own daughter. I respected her, and I felt a deep sense of guilt towards her. Looking into her sad, curious eyes, I felt helpless. “My mom just said, ‘Happy wedding day.’ Nothing else.” Alex’s mother frowned, her face a picture of disbelief. “How is that possible? Just now, after she spoke to Alex, his face was full of terror. If that’s all she said, why would he react like that? Why would he kill himself in front of everyone?” Others chimed in. “Yes, we all saw his reaction. Those words wouldn’t have caused such a reaction.” “Besides, who whispers well wishes in someone’s ear? She’s obviously lying.” “That’s right, Emma. Alex was always so good to you. You can’t protect your mother just because she’s a murderer.” “Yes, just tell us what she really said. Don’t cover for her.” Even Alex’s father spoke, his voice grave. “Emma, my son was devoted to you. He never let you suffer. If you have even a shred of genuine feeling for him, you won’t let him die like this, without any answers.” Faced with their accusations, I tried to explain again. “My dad and Alex both died the same way, because of my mother’s words. So, more than anyone, I want to know what she said. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have stood up in front of everyone and asked her to tell me. I don’t think it was those words either, but she really only said, ‘Happy wedding day.’ I was just confronting her about it, you all heard me!” Because of a single sentence, I had lost the two most important people in my life. I wanted to know why more than anyone. Seeing my firm words and serious expression, the crowd, though still skeptical, said no more. They turned their attention to handling Alex’s funeral arrangements. A celebration had turned into a funeral. My heart had plummeted from heaven to hell. After attending Alex’s funeral, my body exhausted and my heart in pieces, I returned to my childhood home. As I arrived, I found a crowd of people waiting at my door.

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My boyfriend, Damian Thorne, was the heir to one of the most powerful families in the country, worth hundreds of billions. To test me, he never bought me a single gift in the seven years we were together. He never spent a dime on me. Even when we bought condoms at the convenience store, we split the cost. Later, when my mother fell gravely ill, I borrowed from every friend and relative I had. I was just two thousand dollars short of her surgery fee. But no matter how much I begged Damian, he refused to lend it to me. I handled my mother’s funeral alone. When I went home to pack my things, I stumbled upon a list of gifts he had bought for his neighbor’s sister. A mansion in a gated community, luxury handbags, jewelry worth millions… And a chat log with his friends. “Damian, is it true that Sophia knelt and begged you for two thousand dollars?” “Chloe was right,” Damian’s voice, cool and dismissive, echoed from the recording. “Kneeling for two grand? What is she if not a gold digger? We’ve only been together seven years, and she’s already this desperate to get money out of me.” So, his seven-year test was nothing more than a game prompted by his neighbor’s sister. It didn’t matter anymore. The moment my mother died, I had already decided to leave him. 1 I had just put the gift list back when the front door opened. Damian stumbled in, reeking of alcohol, and plopped down beside me. “You disappeared for a few days. I thought you had some backbone, that you wouldn’t come back,” he slurred. “But you just can’t stay away from me, can you? You came crawling back.” He was just short of saying I had come back to swindle more money out of him. Maybe, in his mind, that’s all I had ever been—a gold digger, after his fortune. I didn’t even bother to look at him. I just shifted away, avoiding the arm he tried to sling around my shoulders. He froze, looking from his hand to me, assuming I was still sulking over the two thousand dollars. “I’ve had a bit to drink. I’m thirsty. Go make me some soup to sober me up.” He always did that, slipping into his rich-boy persona without thinking. But when he was first pursuing me seven years ago, he’d put on a clumsy act, pretending to be poor, and had me completely fooled. “Sophia,” he’d said, his face earnest, “I don’t have anything. I can’t give you a stable future. But we can work hard together, build a good life for ourselves.” Looking at his sincere face back then, I had nodded. I needed money, yes, but I could support myself. I chose Damian because I was moved by his words—we can work hard together, build a good life for ourselves. But the longer we were together, the more I realized he was different. He would unconsciously show his disdain for anything cheap. He would order me around to do things he could easily do himself. It wasn’t until I saw him step out of a luxury car at my part-time job, surrounded by an entourage as he entered a high-end club, that I was certain our relationship was built on a foundation of lies. And that he was terrified I was after his money. Damian’s voice cut through my thoughts. “If you want money in the future, just ask me directly. Using your mother’s health as an excuse… aren’t you afraid of being struck by lightning?” His words were so absurd I almost laughed. I lifted my eyes and looked at him coldly. “If I ask you directly, will you give it to me?” He faltered, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. But then, as if confirming his own suspicions, his expression turned to one of scorn. “Chloe was right. You’re only with me for my money.” He pulled out his phone and sent me a transfer for $1.88. The transaction note had two words: Gold Digger. In seven years together, I had never spent a single cent of his money. On holidays and anniversaries, I would buy him gifts. He accepted them without a second thought, but because he never got me anything, he would sarcastically ask if I thought it was a man’s God-given duty to buy presents for his girlfriend. This was the man who called me a gold digger. This was the billionaire heir. I thought of the gift list for Chloe. I thought of my mother, ravaged by illness, dying in pain because I couldn’t afford her treatment. I couldn’t stand to be in his presence for another second. As I stood up to leave, the door opened again. Chloe waltzed in, shrugging off her coat to reveal a sexy outfit underneath. The moment she saw me, she feigned a startled gasp and quickly put her coat back on. “Sophia? What are you doing here?” I turned to Damian. “If I remember correctly, this is the apartment we rent together. Not only did you give someone else the passcode, but you’re also letting them just walk in whenever they please?” At my words, Chloe put on a look of utter grievance and ran to Damian’s side, clutching his arm. “Damian, how can you call me ‘someone else’? I just forgot my keys and wanted to crash here for the night. Besides, if it weren’t for you agreeing to split the rent, Sophia would have to pay for this all by herself. If anything, she’s the one getting the better deal.” I wondered how many times she had said things like that behind my back. Damian, far from seeing anything wrong, seemed to think Chloe had a point. “Chloe’s right. I have my own place. Splitting the rent here is a bad deal for me. What’s the difference between this and paying for sex?” He pulled out his phone and held up his payment QR code to my face. “You don’t want people calling you a gold digger, do you? Then pay me back for my half of the rent for the past seven years.” 2 This small, 400-square-foot apartment was where Damian and I had started. After graduating, I stayed in the city to earn more money. All I could afford back then was a tiny, cramped room far from the city center. It was Damian who said it was too far, too inconvenient for him to visit. It was Damian who said the place wasn’t fit for human habitation, that the thought of being intimate with me there killed the mood. He was the one who suggested we rent a bigger place together. So, I took on the burden of the high rent, finding another part-time job to fill the time I saved on commuting. And now, not only did he want me to pay back his half of the rent for the past seven years, but he also felt like he’d been cheated, that he’d essentially paid to sleep with me. “Damian,” I asked, my voice trembling, “what have I been to you all these years?” The tears welling in my eyes were for myself. For the seven years of my youth wasted on a man like this. The hand holding the phone in front of me wavered for a second as a tear fell. He pursed his lips and pulled his hand back. “I was just joking. It’s not a big…” He didn’t finish. Chloe clicked her tongue, her face a mask of disdain. “And she says she’s not after your money. If it weren’t for you, Damian, could she afford a place like this? Damian, you should just end the lease next month. You can’t keep letting outsiders take advantage of you. Or, you could have Sophia sign an IOU. That would be fair.” If it weren’t illegal, I would have slapped both of them. But if I did, they would find a way to sue me for every penny I had. It was the favorite sick game of the rich and bored. Seven years. I had played along long enough. I was done. “I’m not signing an IOU. If you want the money, you can sue me. We’ll see if the court agrees with you. And I’m not staying in this apartment anymore. Since Miss Chloe wants to stay the night, she should remember to pay Damian her share of the rent. Otherwise, she’ll be a gold digger too.” I tried to leave, but Damian grabbed my arm. The playful expression was gone, replaced by an angry scowl. “Sophia, are you serious? Chloe and I were just kidding. I suggest you think carefully. If you leave here, you’ll never live in a place this nice again.” I was so wrong. So unbelievably wrong. I shouldn’t have let him talk me out of breaking up with him when I first found out who he really was. I shouldn’t have believed his talk of an equal relationship, one not ruled by money, every time he accused me of being a gold digger. I had only held onto the memory of him warming my cold feet with his stomach on the coldest winter nights, of his warm hands gently massaging my cramps away. We had been in love. We had been happy. But our love could never be tainted by money, not even a little. “Damian, let’s break up.” Only when those words left my mouth did the smirk finally leave his face, replaced by a flicker of panic. “Break up? Sophia, you’re breaking up with me? I don’t agree. What right do you have to dump me? There’s a limit to your tantrums.” He always put himself on a pedestal, as if being with me was a gift he was bestowing upon me. I just looked at him calmly. “I’m not throwing a tantrum. Since you’re so convinced I’m a gold digger, after your money, you should find someone from your own circle. Have a truly ‘equal’ relationship.” I didn’t want to say another word to him. I turned and went back to the bedroom to continue packing. About thirty seconds later, I heard him roar. “Sophia, don’t you regret this.” I ignored his threats, and I didn’t care that he slammed the door on his way out with Chloe. I had endured a love where I was treated like a thief for seven years. I didn’t blame Damian for not being able to save my mother. He had no obligation to lend me the money. But when I was at my most desperate, when I was on my knees with a signed IOU, begging him to save my mother, he had looked right through me, still thinking I was a gold digger. In that moment, my love for him, our seven years together, died. 3 In the middle of the night, I walked the empty streets with all my belongings. There was no place for me in this vast city, and no reason for me to stay. My mother was gone. My love was gone. Every second I stayed was just another second of pain. With nowhere else to go, I spent the night in a nearby hospital lobby. The first thing I did the next morning was quit my job. My supervisor was shocked when she received my resignation letter. “You’re quitting? Did Mr. Thorne approve this?” She added, “By the way, if you leave now, you won’t get much of a bonus this month. We’ll just deposit the rest of your salary into one card.” I frowned, the information overload making my head spin. What did she mean, one card? And what bonus? Most importantly, who was Mr. Thorne? Seeing my confusion, my supervisor looked just as baffled. “Aren’t you and Mr. Thorne dating? He specifically told finance to split your salary. Your base pay goes to you, and your bonuses and raises go to a separate card. He said you were saving money. I have to say, it’s rare to see someone so frugal, especially when you’re dating someone like Mr. Thorne.” So, all these years, I had only been receiving my starting salary. My repeated requests for a raise… it wasn’t because I wasn’t working hard enough. It was because Damian had been diverting my earnings into another account. When I went to finance for my pay stubs, I saw the bonus column. Two thousand dollars. The exact amount I had been short a few days ago. The day I had lost, trying to scrape together that final two thousand, was the day my mother died, waiting for a surgery she never got. The most laughable part? The total sum of the bonuses Damian had withheld from me over the past seven years was more than enough to cover my mother’s medical bills. I was such a fool. So focused on working hard, terrified of being fired and losing my only source of income. So completely and utterly fooled by Damian Thorne. To prove to him I wasn’t a gold digger, not only had I never spent his money, but I had let him steal my own hard-earned wages. And I had stayed in this relationship, full of lies and insults, for seven years. Just as I was about to confront Damian with the pay stubs, he sauntered in as if he owned the place. “Sophia, we have a little argument and you run away from home and quit your job? Your temper is getting worse and worse.” Chloe trailed behind him, a look of smug satisfaction on her face. She walked over, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Sophia, you’re so ungrateful. You’re living off Damian’s money, in a house he pays for. Without him, could you even survive in this city?” Shameless people really can tell the most blatant lies without batting an eye. I was so angry I almost laughed. Before I could retort, Damian cut me off. “Chloe’s right. If it weren’t for me these past seven years, you would have starved to death. Let’s just say you were having a moment today. I’ll grant you a day off. I won’t even dock your pay for it.” 4 The more I saw of Damian’s true colors, the more I wondered how I could have been so blind for seven long years. People around us started to whisper and point. When Damian did nothing to stop them, their voices grew louder. “Mr. Thorne hid his identity because he didn’t want Sophia to feel insecure. He asked us all to keep it a secret. That just shows how much he cares about her.” “She’s living off his money, in a house he pays for, and she still throws tantrums at him.” “She wants to marry into wealth, but she doesn’t have what it takes. Without Mr. Thorne, she’s nothing.” The more people gossiped, the more smug Damian looked. Chloe kept fanning the flames, piling on baseless accusations. “Sophia, didn’t you even lie about your mother dying just to get two thousand dollars from Damian? You’re a gold digger who wants to play the victim. You can’t have it both ways.” Her words were like cold water on hot oil. The office erupted. Everyone looked at me with contempt, their insults flying. I looked at Damian. He still had that nonchalant expression, as if Chloe was just voicing his own unspoken grievances. I curled my lips into a hollow smile. Just as I was about to speak, Damian grabbed my arm, playing the magnanimous peacemaker. “Alright, alright, what’s past is past. It’s not like I’m short on cash. If you want money in the future, just ask me directly. No need to make up excuses.” His words only fueled the office’s indignation. Everyone seemed to think I was ungrateful. “Exactly! Mr. Thorne is so rich. If you want money, just ask.” “Cursing your own mother for money… that’s just inhuman.” “I can’t believe Sophia is that kind of person. I used to see how frugal she was and even brought her food sometimes.” “Someone like her… Mr. Thorne should just dump her and make sure she can’t survive in this city.” I saw the colleagues I had once been close to joining in, trampling on me. I thought about everything Damian had done. Suddenly, it all felt so meaningless. Even if I threw the pay stubs in his face right now, he and Chloe would just twist it into something else, and everyone would continue to humiliate me. I quietly put the pay stubs back in my pocket. I looked up at Damian and smiled. “We’ve been together for seven years. Why don’t you calculate exactly how much of your money I’ve spent? And if you can’t name a single cent that was spent on me, then perhaps you should pay back the hundreds of thousands you owe me. Otherwise, you, and this company, can expect to be sued.” A relationship supposedly free of money, yet constantly steeped in it. The billionaire heir, so generous in the eyes of others, had been living off the money I was saving for my mother’s life. Damian’s mind raced, and a flash of panic crossed his eyes. Of course, he couldn’t think of anything he had spent on me. This was a man who insisted we go Dutch on condoms. I had always thought it was just rich people being stingy, but now I realized it was because I wasn’t worth a single penny to him. He probably wanted to argue, but I didn’t want to hear it. As I turned to leave, Chloe suddenly pushed me. I lost my balance and fell to the floor. “Sophia, stop trying to change the subject. How could Damian possibly owe you money? If you dare to spread rumors, we’ll call the police and have you arrested. If you go to jail, who will take care of your mother, lying in a hospital bed waiting for you to earn money for her? You should apologize to Damian right now!” Chloe thought she could threaten me. But I had nothing left to lose. Just then, my supervisor, who had been passing by, saw Damian and squeezed through the crowd. She was holding an application form. “Mr. Thorne, Sophia’s mother passed away a few days ago. You still haven’t approved the employee bereavement fund payment. Also, I’ve withdrawn Sophia’s application for a two-thousand-dollar salary advance, as you instructed. It’s such a shame. I heard her mother was just two thousand dollars short of her surgery fee.”

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To give her childhood friend my spot at Cambridge, my wife destroyed my records. She deliberately falsified my visa application, getting me permanently blacklisted, then had the tendons in my hand severed and shipped me off to The Sterling Institute for Men. My mother-in-law, who had always doted on me, was full of praise for the decision. “It serves him right, the ungrateful leech. We fed him, clothed him, and what does he do? Tries to get a PhD abroad to find his birth parents. He wants to play the dutiful son for them? Who’s going to take care of me in my old age?” My wife, Lydia, just scoffed. “He’s just vain. The moment he found out I turned down the Cambridge offer for him, he had the nerve to give me the silent treatment and ask for a divorce. If he’d actually gone, he’d have been completely out of my control.” She added, “Being my husband means a life without worry, but he still wanted to steal Leo’s future. The Sterling Institute will teach him to be grateful for what he has.” One semester later, my wife went to the airport to pick up her childhood friend, home from his studies abroad. For the first time in months, she asked her assistant about me. “It’s been long enough. Has he learned his lesson? Tell him he can come home for the winter break.” What she didn’t know was that I had died on the very first day she sent me to that “institute.” 1 When I opened my eyes again, I was at the welcome-home party for Leo, my wife’s childhood friend. Looking for something to talk about, they started debating who among their old friends had ended up the most pathetic. Someone snickered. “Is there even a question? It’s gotta be Sean, right? Three years ago, he was so cocky about getting into Cambridge for his PhD. Total bust. Then he spent two years trying and failing again from home. Now he’s at that Sterling Institute place!” “Meanwhile, our boy Leo, the real genius, quietly comes back with a Cambridge doctorate. Companies are lining up to offer him seven-figure salaries. God, I’m so jealous!” The private room erupted in a chorus of laughter and mockery. These were the same people who once swore it was a travesty, that if it weren’t for Leo’s dirty tricks, the one studying abroad should have been me. My wife, Lydia, kept a placid expression, but her eyes kept darting toward the door. Her fingers drummed an impatient rhythm on the table as she asked her assistant, “Sean’s on winter break too, isn’t he? Hasn’t he been begging to come home?” The assistant lied through his teeth. “The Institute says Mr. Evans refuses to leave. He’s staying on campus voluntarily. And… he won’t stop cursing you and Mr. Vance.” The crease between Lydia’s brows deepened. “A whole semester, and he’s still not learned a thing.” “Tell him this,” she commanded. “If he calls me and apologizes, and swears he’ll never think about going abroad again, I can forgive and forget. He can come home for the holidays.” A bitter laugh escaped my spectral lips. She still had no idea. I was already dead. Before my PhD application this year, I had accidentally discovered that Lydia had sabotaged my last two attempts. I’d given her the silent treatment. But I never imagined she would stoop so low as to tamper with my visa documents, a final, catastrophic blow that got me banned for life. With my dream of finding my birth parents in England shattered, my heart died. I asked for a divorce. Her response was to have me thrown into the Sterling Institute, where I met my end. Only after death did I learn the full extent of her scheme. She was terrified that if I went abroad, the truth from three years ago would come out—the truth that Leo had stolen my academic record and my place at Cambridge. Back in the present, Leo lowered his head, revealing a faint scar on his forehead. He took Lydia’s hands in his, his voice laced with manufactured concern. “He must be furious you sent him to that place. Don’t be afraid, Lydia. I’ll protect you. I don’t care if he hits me.” Years ago, Leo and I had applied to the same university under different advisors. In the end, my chosen professor announced he was taking Leo instead. When I confronted Leo to ask what happened, he burst into tears and slammed his head against a pillar, threatening to die to prove his innocence. Everyone decided I was a sore loser who’d resorted to violence. They looked at me with disgust. Lydia’s eyes softened with pity for Leo. “He wouldn’t dare,” she sneered. “I’ll let him rot in that institute for the rest of his life.” The others chimed in with words of comfort. “Come on, Leo. If Lydia hadn’t been so worried Sean would hurt you back then, she never would have impulsively proposed to him. Don’t you worry. You’re the only one in her heart. She’ll always protect you.” A tremor went through my entire being. Back then, Lydia was the only one who said she believed me, who begged me not to be rash, who promised to stay by my side while I tried again. It was all a lie. She was just afraid I’d cause trouble for Leo. Remembering the incident, someone advised, “Lydia, Sean’s personality is just awful. He’s not good enough for you. Leo is a much better fit. You two were childhood sweethearts, and now he’s so successful. Don’t let this drag on.” Lydia gave a noncommittal answer. “Leo still has another semester. We’ll see.” She pulled out her phone. No missed calls. Her face darkened as she grilled her assistant. “Are you sure you passed on my message? Why hasn’t he called me yet?” As if on cue, her phone buzzed. She didn’t even look at the screen, just brought it to her ear, a triumphant smirk on her lips. “Sean, you finally—” But the voice on the other end spoke in crisp English. “Miss Hayes, is this correct? We have a medical fund payment to transfer to your account. Are you available to receive it?” Lydia was confused. “I’m sorry, who is this?” The voice on the other end explained gently. “Three years ago, you were suffering from end-stage kidney failure. Your husband, Mr. Sean Evans, bombarded our top specialist with 999 emails, begging him to perform your surgery. The specialist had already announced his retirement, but Mr. Evans flew here himself. He offered his entire life savings and knelt in the rain for a day and a night, pleading for your life.” “We had never witnessed such profound devotion. The specialist made an exception for you. He never accepted the payment, instead converting it into a medical fund in Mr. Evans’s name. The fund has now reached its maturity date, and we intended to return it to Mr. Evans, but we’ve been unable to contact him.” At the time, Lydia had collapsed suddenly. Her condition was critical. Even if a donor kidney was found, no surgeon in the country dared to operate. I, desperate, had bruised my forehead to the point of bleeding, begging that foreign specialist to save her. When Lydia finally came out of surgery, I wept with joy. I never could have imagined that just a few months later, I would face the greatest betrayal of my life. Everyone in the room was an elite professional; they all understood the English conversation. A long silence fell, finally broken by someone’s soft exclamation. “We all thought he’d just abandoned you to go traveling back then. I had no idea… He was so devoted. Without that doctor, you might not have made it off that operating table.” Lydia’s fingers clenched the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. It took her a long moment to find her voice. When she did, it was ice. “I don’t need it. Donate it.” She hung up, a cold smile playing on her lips. “Sean’s just a martyr. Leo would never emotionally blackmail me like that.” “When I was dying from kidney failure, all he did was find a doctor. But Leo… Leo decided to risk his own life to save me!” “Leo’s health has been ruined ever since, but Sean? Selfish to the core. Threw a fit and demanded a divorce over something so trivial!” A bitter taste filled my mouth. I was the one who donated the kidney. I have a congenital bleeding disorder. To save her, I still went under the knife, knowing it could kill me. When I woke up, I found Lydia fussing over Leo, endlessly thanking him. No matter how I tried to explain, she thought I was just trying to steal his glory. Not long after, just because my initial PhD exam scores were higher than Leo’s, he threatened to throw himself off a bridge. “Sean, why am I always second best to you? You’re like a shadow hanging over my life! And now I have to watch you go off to Cambridge in this broken body? I’d rather be dead!” That single, pathetic plea was enough for Lydia to decide to help him steal my place. That was the beginning of it all. The atmosphere grew heavy. People raised their glasses, trying to lighten the mood. Someone pulled out their phone to scroll through short videos, forgetting to turn down the volume. A robotic voice blared out: “Breaking news! The ‘Sterling Institute for Men’ model is under fire for alleged abuse and criminal activity!” Clatter. Lydia’s fork fell to the floor.

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To save my family from the king’s dungeons, I married the Lord Regent—the most feared man in the realm. On our wedding night, the man they whispered was no man at all took me until I teetered on oblivion. The next morning, royal decree in hand, he ordered my House slaughtered. I knelt at his door for three days. “Ten years ago,” he said, ice in his gaze, “your father’s betrayal saw my kin butchered like cattle. This is fate’s wheel turning. Blood owed, paid in blood.” For five years he kept me locked away, tormenting me daily. I held on for my mother’s sake—until he ripped our seven-month child from my womb for his mistress. Seven days before my promised freedom, I stood atop the Spire, wind lashing my robes. And there—the mighty Regent on his knees, begging me not to jump. 01 The moment Damien Vaughn kicked the door open, I had just finished lighting the three memorial candles for our child’s tablet. He seized my wrist, his grip like iron, his expression savage. “Elara, you have some nerve!” “I told you, do not go near Liana. Yet you provoke her, again and again.” “Do you truly believe I won’t do anything to you?” He shoved me violently. My forehead struck the edge of the wooden table behind me, and a painful, red welt immediately began to form. But I acted as if I felt nothing. I slowly sank to my knees before him, pressing my bruised forehead to the cold stone floor. “I am sorry.” Damien’s eyes tightened. He instinctively reached out to help me up, but the moment his fingers brushed my arm, he flinched back. As if he had touched something foul, he snatched his hand away and hid it behind his back. “What game are you playing now, Elara?” I shook my head, my voice as still and dead as a winter lake. “No game. It is my duty to see to Lady Liana.” “Whatever has befallen her, I accept the blame.” It was always this way. He never investigated anything concerning Liana; he simply decreed it was my fault. If Liana had a headache, he claimed it was because our stars were crossed in ill-omen. If Liana sprained her ankle, he accused me of deliberately placing loose stones on the path. And two days ago, when Liana miscarried, and the royal physician found saffron in her tonic… He didn’t need proof. He declared I had done it out of jealousy and spite. He was the one who held the bitter draught to my lips, forcing me to drink. He was the one who ordered the midwife to tear our seven-month-old child from my body, to serve as a companion for Liana’s lost baby in the cold earth. The thought of that unborn child sent a wave of grief so profound through me that I nearly collapsed. I bit down hard on my lip, just to maintain the last shred of composure in his presence. Experience had taught me that any display of weakness would be seen as another ploy, another attempt to manipulate him with pity. The candles on the table burned out. Damien’s gaze swept over them and fell upon the child’s memorial tablet. His face contorted. He strode forward, lifted me without a word, and threw me onto the bed, his hands moving to the ties of my bodice. I could smell it on his collar—the cloying scent of Liana’s favorite perfume. I caught his hand, my eyes meeting his with a strange calm. “My body has not yet healed. Perhaps another day.” Damien froze, then his eyes raked over me, a deep, mocking sneer spreading across his face. He leaned in close, his whisper a venomous caress against my ear. “Elara, besides this body of yours, what other value do you possess?” A chill pierced me to the bone. Ignoring my trembling, Damien ripped away the last of my clothing. The bed canopy fell, casting the room in wavering, uncertain light. His face, devoid of passion, was reflected in my tear-filled, numb eyes. I couldn’t deny it. I loved Damien Vaughn. He was the brilliant, beautiful boy who had dazzled my youth. He was the man I had defied my parents for, kneeling outside their door for three days and nights, determined to marry. But I couldn’t help but hate him, too. He had seduced me into his trap, only to send my entire family to the gallows. He had personally overseen the execution of my parents and a hundred other members of House Sutton. He had kept me a prisoner for five years, shaming and torturing me, day after endless day. It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought of death. But five years ago, in that dark, cold dungeon, my mother had clutched my hand, her face streaked with tears. “Elara, my darling,” she had wept, “I only ask one thing of you. No matter what, you must live.” “I will wait for you on the shores of the afterlife for five years. If, after five years, you still have not found a reason to live, then you may come and find me.” My mother hoped that promise of five years would give me a reason to hope, a reason to survive. Even the coming of our child… I had allowed myself to believe it was a glimmer of light my mother had sent me from beyond. But that fragile flame had been ruthlessly snuffed out by Damien. And now, there were five days left until my five years were up. 02 When I woke the next day, Damien, contrary to his usual habit, had not left. He had summoned two maids. One held a steaming bowl of a foul-smelling tonic. “Elara, that child… it was an accident.” “You should understand. You are not worthy of bearing a child of House Vaughn.” Damien was right. I wasn’t worthy. My father was the man who had framed his, leading to the unjust deaths of one hundred and eight innocent people. If Damien hadn’t been blind drunk seven months ago, on the anniversary of his family’s execution, I never would have conceived. But that night, cradled in his arms, he had suddenly begun to weep. “When they purged my House, my little brother was only three. They dragged him to the execution block… and his head rolled in the dirt.” “My sister… she was three days from marrying the man she loved.” “But because of your father’s lies, she was defiled by the guards in her cell. She took her own life in despair.” “If I hadn’t been fostered at the Abbey as a boy, I would have died with them.” “And my family would have been cursed by the people for generations, branded as traitors for a hundred, a thousand years to come.” “Elara, shouldn’t I hate you?” “But, Elara… what am I supposed to do?” I knew in my heart that Damien was just like me. He loved, and he hated. The bond between us was a knot that could never be untied, only severed. I lowered my eyes, took the bowl with both hands, and drank the barren-womb draught in one gulp. A single, wrapped candy fell onto the bedsheets beside me. It was from the confectioner on the East Gate, my favorite. Damien used to buy them for me all the time. Even if it meant waiting in line for hours. I clutched the candy, a sudden, sharp ache in my chest. He always did this. Just when my heart had turned to ash, he would casually light a small lamp. Then blow it out. Then light it again. And blow it out again. Over and over, making my life a torment. Making death an escape I couldn’t quite reach. My hand, hidden in my sleeve, clenched into a fist. I wanted to say something, but when I looked up, all I saw was his retreating back. The two maids whispered to each other. “The daughter of an enemy. I can’t imagine why the Lord Regent keeps her here.” “If it were me, I’d have had her flayed and quartered long ago. Instead, he feeds her, clothes her, lets her play the lady of the manor!” They made no attempt to hide their scorn. The words were meant for me. After they left, the vast room was empty again, except for me and the child’s tablet on the table. … For the next few days, I didn’t see Damien. The servants whispered that Lady Liana had caught a chill, that her head was splitting with pain. Damien stayed by her side the entire time, caring for her diligently. On the final day of my five-year promise, the estate’s steward pushed open my door. “The Lady Liana wishes to plant a winter rose garden. She has commanded that you are to go and turn over all the soil in the back garden.” My head snapped up. The back garden. That’s where I buried my child’s body. 03 By the time I stumbled into the back garden, Liana had already directed the groundskeepers to dig up half the frozen earth. “Stop! All of you, stop!” I screamed, heedless of my appearance. But the servants knew my place in this house. They paid me no mind. I rushed to Liana. “Tell them to stop! Make them stop now!” Liana waved a dismissive hand, and two of her personal guards pulled me away. She toyed with a string of pearls, a light, cruel laugh on her lips. “A wretched little thing like that doesn’t deserve to be buried in the hallowed grounds of this estate.” “The frost is deep, and the beasts in the forest are hungry. Once we dig the little beast up, we can toss it to them. Consider it an act of charity.” Her words struck me like a physical blow. I was filled with a blinding rage. I don’t know where the strength came from, but I broke free from the guards and seized the front of Liana’s dress. “Liana, you took my child from me. I’ll kill you!” I pulled the simple wooden pin from my hair and lunged, aiming for her throat. The pin had barely scratched her delicate skin when a powerful hand shoved me from behind. I slammed into a stone bench, and in an instant, the cold steel of a dozen swords was at my throat. Liana, feigning terror, collapsed into Damien’s arms, sobbing. “Damien, my love, you came just in time! If you hadn’t, I would never have seen you again.” Damien’s brow was a knot of fury, but his eyes were fixed on me, silent and unreadable. I ignored the animosity between us, my voice a desperate plea. “Damien, please. I beg you, make them stop.” “Punish me however you want, I’ll accept anything, but that is my child!” “Damien… he is our child…” Ignoring the blades at my neck, I crawled step by agonizing step and knelt at his feet. I clutched the hem of his trousers, my voice a raw, ugly rasp. “He was a boy, Damien. He will never learn to ride a horse or draw a bow now…” In countless nights past, Damien had kissed my hair and whispered in my ear: “Elara, my love, when we have a child…” “If it’s a boy, I will teach him to ride and shoot.” “If it’s a girl, you will teach her poetry and song.” But now, our child never even had the chance to see this world. The memory must have struck Damien too, because his pupils contracted sharply. He instinctively glanced at the ravaged garden, his face shadowed and dark. Liana sensed his hesitation. She dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. “Damien, the Master Physician came yesterday. He said my ceaseless headaches are caused by the unquiet spirit of a dead infant buried on the grounds.” “It was foolish of me. I was only thinking of myself, not of my lady’s feelings.” “If she truly cannot bear it, I suppose I can continue to suffer…” I didn’t hear another word she said. All I saw was a groundskeeper unearthing a small bundle wrapped in red cloth. The searing crimson made my tears fall anew. I tugged desperately at Damien’s leg. “Damien, if you just spare my child…” “I will give up my position as your wife. I will give it to Liana!” “My wife?” Damien’s brow furrowed, and then a storm of fury erupted in his eyes. He gritted his teeth. “Elara, does the title of Lady Vaughn disgust you so much?” I knelt there, sobbing too hard to speak. His lips thinned into a white line, his face ashen. Suddenly, he let out a harsh, barking laugh. “You are truly something else!” “A dead infant is an ill omen. To leave it here will only bring disaster upon this house. Men! Bring me tinder and dry branches…” Damien squeezed his eyes shut, hiding the raw crimson within them. He bit out each word. “Burn it. On the spot.”

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“Reina, I’ve made up my mind.” I stood before the mirror, staring at the pale, hollowed-out reflection of myself. It turned out that making one of the most important decisions of my life wasn’t so difficult after all. “Jasper… will you accept my proposal?” On the other end of the line, Reina’s voice was a soft, gentle melody. A sudden pang of sorrow touched my heart, but I nodded. “Reina, I will.” “Jasper, I’m so happy.” “You know, back in college, I dreamed of this day.” In the mirror, a faint smile had unknowingly appeared on my lips. “Reina, just give me two weeks. I need to take care of some things here.” “Alright, Jasper. I’ll be waiting.” The moment I hung up, my bedroom door was violently shoved open from the outside. “Jasper,” my father said, clearing his throat with a touch of unease. “Your brother’s health isn’t good. Your room gets the morning sun. Why don’t you two… switch for a few days?” I didn’t answer. My gaze fell on my stepmother and my half-brother, Simon, standing behind him. My stepmother quickly interjected, “Oh, dear, we don’t need to trouble the young master.” Simon looked aggrieved. “Yeah, Dad, it’s fine. Don’t make my brother upset because of me.” “What trouble? You’re my son too,” my father said, then turned a stern gaze on me. “Jasper, you’re the older brother. Be more sensible.” I stared blankly at my father. I thought I would be devastated, furious. That my own flesh and blood would dote on a son who wasn’t his, more than on me. But I felt nothing. Not a single ripple of emotion. I even managed a small smile and a nod. “Fine. I’ll switch with him.” In two weeks, I would be leaving this place forever. Which room I slept in didn’t matter anymore. 2 My father seemed pleased with my compliance. My stepmother smiled, satisfied. After they left, however, Simon lingered. “Brother, let me help you pack.” He stood before me, the picture of obedience, but his eyes, as they scanned the room, held a smile he couldn’t quite conceal. “I didn’t expect Dad to agree to let us switch rooms.” “Brother, are you angry with me?” “After all, I just stole Victoria from you, and now I’ve stolen the bedroom you’ve lived in for ten years.” I didn’t want to engage. I turned to get my suitcase. Suddenly, Simon let out a yelp and fell hard onto the floor. “Brother…” His arm had hit the corner of the desk as he fell, and a dark bruise was already forming. “Jasper, what are you doing?!” Victoria had come upstairs at some point. She saw Simon on the floor. Her face hardened. She rushed over and gently helped him to his feet. “Tori, I’m fine. My brother didn’t mean to.” Simon grimaced in pain but forced a pained smile. “It doesn’t hurt, Tori.” “It’s already bruised, and you say it doesn’t hurt?” Victoria looked at the injury on his arm, her eyes filled with heartache. But when she looked at me, her gaze turned cold as frost. “Jasper, if you have a problem, take it out on me.” “Don’t hurt Simon. He’s been through enough.” “Unlike you, born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you’ve never known a day of hardship in your life.” I thought I was past being hurt by her words. I thought I would never again let Victoria break my heart. But in the end, I was just an ordinary person. I wasn’t made of steel, and my heart wasn’t unbreakable. The girl I grew up with. The woman I had loved for three years. In just a few short days, she had fallen for the younger, more cloying Simon. And had started to see me as a vicious, cruel monster. I didn’t want to be sad. I even wanted to laugh. But when I opened my mouth, my voice was raw. “Victoria, we’ve known each other for so many years. Don’t you know what kind of person I am?” Victoria’s brow furrowed slightly. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, her expression seemed to soften. 3 But then Simon spoke up. “Tori, don’t fight with my brother because of me.” “It’s fine. He has every right to be angry with me…” Simon’s voice trailed off, as if he were the victim of some great injustice. Victoria’s gaze on me hardened once more, turning to ice. “You’re jealous that I like Simon.” “Jealous that I’m good to him.” “Jealous that everyone likes him.” “Jasper, you’re not the person you used to be.” “You’re twisted now, aren’t you?” With that, she took Simon’s arm and turned to leave. I watched them go. And suddenly, I realized that the last, lingering shred of sadness had vanished. This was for the best. I had grieved over Victoria countless times in the past few days. From now on, I truly believed I would never feel a single pang of sorrow for her again. That evening, the group chat with our mutual friends exploded with activity. Victoria had posted a message. “What do you do when you suddenly want to get married?” The chat went wild. “Tori, are you and Jasper finally tying the knot?” “Should we start calling him brother-in-law now?” People started tagging me. “@Jasper Congrats, brother-in-law! Are you going to send out big red envelopes?” “Tori, when are you inviting us to the wedding?” The chat was a chaotic flurry of messages. I was about to type a message to clarify. I wasn’t their brother-in-law. And I wasn’t the one Victoria wanted to marry. But Victoria beat me to it. “What are you all talking about?” “I never said I was marrying Jasper.” With that, she added Simon to the group chat. Then she tagged everyone. “Take a good look. This is your real brother-in-law.” The boisterous chat fell silent. For a long time, no one said a word. Victoria: “Why is everyone so quiet?” “Say hello to your brother-in-law.” A few scattered greetings for Simon began to trickle in. I thought for a moment, then typed a message. “Congratulations. Wishing you a lifetime of happiness.” After sending it, I left the group chat. 4 The moment I left the group, my phone rang. It was Victoria. “Jasper, I need you to come over. Right now.” “Where?” “You know where. The usual place.” “Is something wrong?” “Apologize to Simon.” “Why should I apologize?” “Do you have any idea what our friends will think of him after you just left the group like that?” Victoria’s tone was harsh, demanding. “I won’t have people slandering Simon.” “I’m the one who likes him. I want to give him a proper place by my side.” “He’s innocent. He shouldn’t have to bear the stigma of being the other man because of your rashness and immaturity.” Even though I was no longer emotionally swayed by her words, a dull, aching anger throbbed in my chest. My fingers, clutching the phone, trembled. When I spoke, my voice trembled too. “Victoria, you can’t treat people like this.” “What gives you the right to treat me this way?” “You were the unfaithful one. I did nothing. I even congratulated you. Isn’t that enough?” My voice was shaking badly. There was a moment of silence on the other end. “Jasper.” “I’ll let it go this time.” “But I want you to remember, Simon is innocent.” “Don’t take your anger out on him. Don’t hurt him.” She hung up. I sat on the sofa, my whole body shaking. On the nightstand, in a silver frame, was a photograph of my mother. She was looking at me with gentle, loving eyes. A sudden sting filled my nose. I lunged for the frame and hugged it tightly. Through the cold, hard glass, I pressed my cheek against hers. In the photo, it was as if my mother was grieving for her child’s pain. I didn’t want to be sad. I didn’t want my mother to worry, wherever she was. After the anniversary of her death, I would take the few things she left me. I would leave this city forever and never come back. 5 Simon moved into my room. I, however, didn’t move into his. I just found an empty guest room and stayed there. The bedding the maid prepared for me was cold and damp. I ended up sleeping in my clothes. It was only for a few more days. Once I got through this, it would all be over. But the next morning, as I came downstairs, I saw that the small side hall, where my mother’s photograph and the memorial offerings were kept, was in complete disarray. My mother’s photo had been thrown on the floor. The glass of the frame was shattered, and the picture was covered in muddy footprints. My mother’s smiling face now seemed to be weeping in agony. The offerings were scattered everywhere, and Simon’s puppy was chewing on them. Simon stood to the side, clapping his hands and cheering the dog on. I stood there, feeling the blood rush to my head. All reason, all thought of endurance, vanished in an instant. Like a madman, I grabbed a vase and hurled it at the dog. The dog yelped and ran off. Simon shrieked as a shard of the broken vase grazed his arm. “Jasper! What are you doing? How could you raise a hand to your brother?!” By the time my father’s voice rang out, Simon had already hidden behind him, his face pale. “Dad, save me! My brother is trying to kill me…” “Jasper, you’re going too far!” “Can’t you see? He threw away Mom’s offerings, he ruined her picture…” My whole body was shaking. Tears finally streamed down my face. I was heartbroken for my mother. I knew the dead couldn’t fight the living. But even in death, she didn’t deserve this. Was there no place in this house for even her memorial tablet? But my father only glanced at the mess on the floor and frowned. “That’s no excuse to hurt someone!” “Dad…” “Jasper, your mother has been gone for so long. The living are more important than the dead.” Simon spoke up timidly. “Dad, it was my puppy. He accidentally knocked over the offerings. I was going to apologize to my brother, but he just rushed down and attacked me. I didn’t even have a chance to say anything before he threw the vase at me…” He held up his bleeding arm, looking pitifully at my father. “Dad, maybe Mom and I should just move out…” “The animal doesn’t know any better, but don’t you?” My father glared at me, then suddenly raised his hand. When the heavy slap landed, I forgot to move. He seemed to freeze for a moment too. But in the end, he said nothing. He turned and took Simon to treat his wound. I watched them leave, and only after a long moment did I feel the burning sting on my cheek. I raised a hand to my swollen face and couldn’t help but let out a bitter, mocking laugh. I knew it then. This house had no room for any trace of my mother. And there was no place left for me. 6 In the middle of the night, I was woken by crying and screaming. I had just sat up when my door was kicked open. My stepmother rushed in, crying. Before I could react, she slapped me hard across the face, several times. “How could you be so cruel?” “Wasn’t hurting him this morning enough? Now you want to kill him?” She collapsed into my father’s arms, sobbing. “He knows Simon is allergic to perfume, and he deliberately sprayed it all over his bed and pillows.” “He’s trying to kill our Simon!” “Alright, stop crying. Simon took his medicine in time, he’s fine.” My father comforted her softly, then looked at me with disgust. “Jasper, you’ve disappointed me greatly.” “Move out tomorrow.” “If you stay here, you’ll just bring chaos to this family.” My stepmother’s crying stopped instantly. I looked at the man before me. He was once the closest person I had in this world. He had loved me dearly. I was his only child. But then, everything changed. I felt like the protagonist in a novel whose luck had been stolen, gradually losing everything. At first, I couldn’t understand it. I fought, I argued, I resisted. But now, I finally understood. The bond between us, father and son, was completely broken. The day I moved out of the family home, my father said to me, “After the anniversary of your mother’s death, I’ll bring you home.” I didn’t answer. After they left, I took all the photos of me and Victoria, and all the photos of me and my father, from all the years. I cut them into pieces and burned them. Finally, I threw away the pair of rings I had secretly bought. I had bought them after Victoria confessed her feelings for me. I had imagined, countless times, the moment I would place one on her finger. But now, that was all over. 7 All that was left were the various gifts Victoria had given me over the past three years. There were quirky, fun little trinkets. And there were expensive watches and jewelry. I sorted out the valuable items, planning to have a friend hold onto them for me. After I left the city, he would return them to Victoria. That way, we would be truly even. There was a time when I cherished even a small keychain from her. But now, as I prepared to discard everything, my heart felt nothing. Not a single ripple. After I was done, I carefully wrapped my mother’s photograph and placed it in the hidden compartment of my suitcase. Without a backward glance, I left the home I had lived in for ten years. As I walked out the main gate, Victoria’s car happened to pull up. I didn’t even look at it. But the car suddenly stopped beside me. The rear window rolled down, revealing Victoria’s stunning face. My gaze merely brushed past her, and my steps didn’t falter. “Jasper.” Victoria’s brow furrowed. “Where are you going?” I ignored her and kept walking. But Victoria suddenly opened the car door and got out. “Do you want me to have my driver give you a ride?” “No, thank you.” I avoided her hand and continued on my way. But Victoria grabbed my wrist. “Jasper, why are you being so stubborn with me?” “Just be like you used to be. Bow your head a little. Maybe I’ll soften up again.” I forcefully shook her hand off and looked at her calmly. “Victoria, there’s no need.” No need to bow my head. And no need for her to soften up. Time and time again… I was tired. Exhausted. “Fine. Do whatever you want.” Victoria scoffed, but her eyes held a look of disbelief. 8 After all, in the past, no matter how hurt I was, I would always willingly and silently wait for her to come back. She was used to it. Everyone around her said I would never be able to leave her. And she believed it wholeheartedly. I was about to leave with my suitcase when Simon’s voice rang out. “Tori, you’re here.” He walked over and took her hand. “Is your allergy any better?” Victoria brushed the hair from his forehead, examining him closely. “Much better.” Simon smiled obediently. “Tori, don’t be mad at my brother.” “It’s my fault for being so weak. If my health wasn’t so poor, Dad wouldn’t have made us switch rooms.” “And my brother wouldn’t have taken his anger out on me…” “How is that your fault? He’s the one who’s petty.” Victoria glanced at me, then deliberately stroked Simon’s cheek. “Let’s go inside. Your face just healed, don’t let the wind get to it.” “Okay.” I watched the two of them walk away, clinging to each other like Siamese twins. And my heart was as calm as a placid lake, without a single ripple. After the anniversary of my mother’s death, my father didn’t come to get me. And in the blink of an eye, it was Victoria’s birthday. In previous years, I would have prepared a gift long in advance. Then I would have gone to great lengths to book a hotel and meticulously decorate the party venue. But this time, I had no gift. And I wouldn’t be celebrating with her. At five in the afternoon, I was in a car on my way to the airport. New messages kept popping up on my phone. My father was urging me, “Why aren’t you here yet? Your aunt, Simon, and I are all here.” “Jasper, you need to be more magnanimous. Victoria is going to be part of our family.” “If you don’t come, what will people think? They’ll think you and your brother have had a falling out.” I found it utterly ridiculous. I didn’t reply, just blocked him. As I was about to board, I received a message. It was from Victoria. “Why aren’t you here yet? Everyone is waiting for you.” I smiled, didn’t reply, and blocked all of her contact information. Then, I walked through the boarding gate and never looked back.

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After passing the civil service exam, before I had even done the medical check and started the job, my boyfriend insisted on taking me on a road trip through Yellowstone during the one-month break I had. An adventure enthusiast, he drove our car right into a grizzly bear conservation area and told me I could feed the “cute little bears” with rice crackers. But when we actually encountered one, my naturally cautious nature kept me from opening the window. The massive grizzly before us looked to be over six hundred pounds, with a ferocious face and sharp fangs—not at all the “cute little bear” my boyfriend had described. Seeing my hesitation, he actually used the car’s master controls to lower my window, allowing the grizzly to tear the skin from my face with a single swipe of its paw. Disfigured, I lost my chance at the civil service position. My boyfriend, who was the runner-up, took my place. In despair, I chose to hang myself in the new house he was preparing for our marriage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back, five minutes before we met the grizzly bear. 01 As we drove through the grizzly bear conservation area, a few bears appeared ahead, hunched over, eating something. The edges of the leftover hide on the ground were curled—it looked like the hind leg of a pronghorn antelope. The blood on the ground had been licked clean, making the scene almost deceptively less gruesome. Quinn pulled the car over, his voice electric with excitement. He reached into the back seat, grabbed a bag of rice crackers, and handed them to me. “Here, you can open these and feed them. They’re so cute, don’t be scared! Look how fluffy they are. They look so soft to the touch.” I stared at the grizzlies in the distance, tearing and fighting over the antelope leg, and couldn’t connect them with the word “cute” in any way. The car radio crackled intermittently with a news report about the local bear population. “The Yellowstone grizzly is the apex predator of this region, known for its astonishing speed and power… and each year, these bears consume…” Quinn quickly switched off the radio. I asked anxiously, “Consume what?” He smiled innocently, patting my cheek to reassure me. “Just a few pronghorns and rabbits, that’s all. Such cute animals can’t possibly eat people, right? You’re already a bit of a worrier, don’t overthink things.” I was still a little uneasy, but I took the rice crackers from him. Outside the window, the grizzlies had savage faces and sharp fangs. Their massive paws were still caked with bits of flesh. From a distance, they looked fluffy, but up close, their fur stood up like steel needles. One of the grizzlies was watching us warily, its eyes fixed directly on me, its blood-red tongue licking the blood from its lips. Seeing my hesitation, my boyfriend, Quinn, reached over to roll down my window himself. In my past life, to snatch a coveted civil service spot, Quinn had taken me to Yellowstone to be bear food. He had convinced me the grizzlies were gentle, rolled down my window, and let one tear the skin from my face, disfiguring me and disqualifying me from the position. Afterward, he played the innocent victim, claiming I had been injured because I had underestimated wildlife, and it had nothing to do with him. Not long after, he successfully took my place at the job, started dating again, and his family joyfully bought them a new house. Meanwhile, I was in a hospital, my face wrapped in bandages, crying every single day. To spite Quinn and cause him financial ruin, in the depths of my depression, I chose to hang myself in his newly renovated house. Relying on the memories of my past life, I quickly grabbed Quinn’s hand as he reached for the window controls. I forced a relaxed smile. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot, and I don’t think a government job is for me. I’d rather start my own e-commerce business, focusing on international markets.” 02 Quinn was visibly taken aback, but his hand remained poised over the window controls. To sweeten the deal, I continued in a light tone. “My parents really like you, you know. They said that after you get the job, they want to buy us a house. And my dad said he’d buy you a Porsche Panamera once we go back and get our marriage license.” He finally moved his hand away from the controls. He smiled, his expression softening, his whole demeanor relaxing. “Well, a great guy like me ending up with you… I guess your ancestors must have done something right.” Seeing his attitude change, I breathed a sigh of relief. According to his original plan, in two more days, his parents would fly into Jackson Hole. We were supposed to finish our tour of the northern part of the park, then pick them up and drive south to see the wildflowers bloom. He drove a few meters forward, away from the bears, and then turned the car around. “Let’s just go straight to Jackson and wait for my parents. There are too many cute little bears here. I’m afraid I might hit one.” Quinn’s eyes were filled with blatant calculation, devoid of any genuine emotion. His desire for money was on full display. But I had underestimated his determination to get that Panamera. The moment we parked at the hotel, Quinn was eager to drag me to a dealership. His expression was fawning. “Babe, why don’t we just buy the car here in Wyoming and drive it back?” “Drive it back?” I was speechless but managed to hide my impatience. “A Panamera has low clearance. I don’t think it would handle these mountain roads very well, do you?” He hesitated, his face falling. “Well, then why don’t you just transfer the money to me? I can call the dealership back home and place the order. We can pick it up as soon as we get back.” I pretended to rummage through my makeup bag, saying casually, “Oh, really? But my dad said he’d only buy it for you after we get our marriage license.” My dad wasn’t here. To ensure my survival for the next few days, I was prepared to say anything. “Then let’s get married now! Getting married in a new place, isn’t that exciting?” Quinn excitedly pulled his ID from his pocket and grabbed my arm, ready to drag me to the courthouse. To stay alive, I had to lie and say I couldn’t find my ID. Later, when he was asleep, I cut it into pieces and flushed it down the toilet. 03 A few days later, at the airport, Quinn’s mother was clearly not expecting to see me standing there, perfectly intact. The moment she saw me, her face soured. “This is so annoying. Son, why is another woman here? This was supposed to be our mother-son vacation.” Quinn, afraid of giving the game away, quickly intervened. “Mom, Chloe and I are getting our license as soon as we get home. Then her parents are buying us a house and a car. We’ll all celebrate together.” In my past life, after the bear attack, a passing park ranger had called for help, and that’s how I survived. But after being brought back to Jackson, Quinn didn’t take me to a top hospital in a major city as I had begged him to. He listened to his mother, left me in a local clinic, and took his parents on a tour of the southern sights. “It’s just her face. It wasn’t that pretty to begin with. It’s not a big deal. Don’t be so dramatic.” I was in agony every day. In the end, I had to call my own parents to come and get me and take me home for proper treatment. But it was too late. The skin and flesh torn away by the grizzly failed to graft properly. I was destined to live the rest of my life as a monster. But now that I was reborn, I would not be the same weakling I was before. This trip, everything was going to be different. This time, I would be the one feeding Quinn and his family to the bears. 04 I went on TikTok and started aggressively liking promotional videos for remote, secluded cabins in the backwoods of Wyoming. The algorithm worked its magic. Before long, Quinn’s mother started seeing the same videos on her feed. And that woman was used to getting her way. As the matriarch of her family, if she took an interest in these beautiful cabins, she would insist on staying there. Last year, at this same time of year, a large grizzly known to mimic human behaviors—like walking on its hind legs—had killed and eaten three people near this very cabin. Later, local hunters had managed to blind it in one eye. In retaliation, the bear had tracked the hunters’ scent back to their home in the dead of night and slaughtered the entire family. The locals knew that once a bear had tasted human flesh, it would never be satisfied with animals again. And this particular bear was known for its vengeful nature. People even avoided grazing their livestock in this area. The cabin had been empty for a long time. To stay there this time of year was basically serving yourself up on a platter. But Quinn’s mother, obsessed with beautiful scenery and luxury, was oblivious to all this. “Son, this cabin is so beautiful! Mommy wants to be romantic too. Let’s go stay there, shall we?” Quinn glanced at the address. It was remote, but his mother always got her way. He didn’t even think to object. He looked at the price and thought it was a bit steep. He turned to me. “Honey, I’m driving. Can you book this cabin for us?” His mother chimed in, “You haven’t contributed anything this whole trip. It’s only right that you pay for this.” Throughout our relationship, Quinn had rarely spent a dime. He always had an excuse to make me pay. By evening, we finally arrived at the “Wildflower Cabin.” Quinn’s mother, who had never stayed in such a wild setting before, was thrilled, taking pictures of everything. The cabin had a keypad entry. When Quinn asked me to book it, I had specifically said I was worried we wouldn’t rest well all in one place and booked three separate rooms. One for his parents, one for me, and one for Quinn. I had also checked local forums and learned that the one-eyed bear had been spotted in this area for several consecutive days. The news reports said grizzlies have an incredibly keen sense of smell and are often drawn to the scent of food in people’s homes. So, I took out the beef jerky I had bought in Jackson and “gifted” it to Quinn’s parents, leaving it in their cabin. Then, I went to Quinn’s cabin, ate some spicy chips, and drank a butter tea I had prepared, “accidentally” spilling it all over his floor. The strong, greasy smell of the butter and milk was potent; it could be smelled from a great distance. 05 Before going to sleep, I propped a table against my door from the inside, then pushed the nightstand and coffee table against it for extra reinforcement. I had deliberately chosen the room at the very end of the row. It only had one window, and it was pathetically small. No matter how you looked at it, a six-hundred-pound bear couldn’t possibly climb through that tiny ventilation window. That night, I stayed alert, too scared to sleep. Sure enough, at one-thirty in the morning, the distinct, heavy breathing of a wild animal came from outside. At the same time, someone knocked on the door. Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock. The sound sent a chill down my spine. This grizzly… it could even mimic a human knock. “Who is it?” Quinn’s mother, a light sleeper, heard the knock immediately and yelled out in her loud, grating voice. In my past life, his mother was a fearless, almost reckless woman. When visiting a Buddhist monastery on a trip, she had ignored local customs and taken photos of the sacred statues. When criticized, she had flown into a rage, climbed onto a statue, and screamed defiantly, challenging the local faith. The incident even made the news. Now, hearing a knock in the middle of the night, she was even more irritable and started shouting. Sure enough, the sound attracted the bear. Soon, the sounds of crashing and his mother’s screams came from her cabin. Ping. A text message. It was from Quinn. “What’s going on with my parents? You should go check on them. Show some concern, you’re their future daughter-in-law.” I pretended to agree, but instead, I slid under the bed and pulled the blankets down to cover the gaps. A quick glance wouldn’t reveal I was there. To prevent the bear from smelling me, I had already sprayed an entire bottle of perfume on the bed and curtains, hoping to mask my scent. I also turned on the shower in the bathroom to create the illusion that I was in there. “Did you go see my parents? My good little future wife.” Facing Quinn’s prodding, I lied again. “I did. It was nothing, just a wild turkey bumped into their door. They got a little scared. You should probably go check on them.” I don’t know if Quinn bought it, but the shouting and screaming had gradually died down. All I could hear was the frantic pounding of my own heart. His parents’ cabin fell silent. It seemed they were either dead or hiding. I suspected the former. In my past life, after I died, I learned that Quinn’s parents had been in on the plot to steal my civil service position. It was his father, a long-time viewer of nature documentaries, who had suggested the brilliant idea of taking me to Yellowstone to be bear food. His parents had always coveted the antique, high-quality jade pendant I wore, a family heirloom worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. After my accident, I was in no state to care about it, and his mother had swiped it while the doctors were saving my life. They had used the money from selling my pendant to buy Quinn’s new house. Thinking of this, I tucked the jade pendant from my neck into my bra. Even if I died today, I would not let Quinn’s despicable family profit.

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An ambulance brought in a completely naked young woman, an unknown fluid dripping down her legs. A doctor, flustered, found me and asked me to lead the surgery. He said the girl had multiple objects lodged inside her, making the procedure incredibly difficult. No one else dared to do it. I took the surgical consent form to find the family member. “I’ll sign!” I stared at the man before me and froze. He was my husband, the man I shared my life with. My husband, Daniel, who had used work as an excuse not to see me on Valentine’s Day, had been cheating with another woman. A wave of nausea washed over me as I watched him unhesitatingly write “spouse” on the form. I was in my surgical scrubs, my face covered by a mask. He didn’t recognize me. He grabbed my hand, pleading, “Doctor, you have to save my wife.” I yanked my hand away. The wedding ring on his finger clattered to the floor. 01 Adhering to the principle that all life is precious, I entered the operating room. Looking at the woman on the table—her hair a mess, her face a bloodless, pale mask—my expression darkened. Who would have thought that the person lying on the operating table would be my best friend. All this time, I had never suspected a thing between them. Before I could even process my thoughts, my best friend’s legs began to tremble uncontrollably on the table, a clear sign of extreme pain. I knew we had to operate immediately. A cucumber had been inserted inside her, with a tennis ball wedged at the end. It was stuck. If not removed promptly, it would be life-threatening. That something so absurd could actually happen… And the person responsible was the man I shared my life with. I was about to administer anesthesia, preparing to use forceps to forcibly remove the foreign objects. But unbelievably, even in her agony, my friend didn’t forget to flirt with my husband. “Danny, come in and stay with me. I’m scared to be alone.” “Doctor, let him in. Now.” I tried to hold her trembling body down, my eyes meeting the anesthesiologist’s, signaling him to proceed. But she pushed the doctor away, ignoring the pain in her lower body as she tried to sit up. “If he’s not with me, I’m not having the surgery.” The other medical staff in the room exchanged uneasy glances. They had never seen such a bizarre patient. With the situation at a standstill, the department head waved his hand, allowing Daniel to come in from outside. “Get him scrubbed in.” “Once you’re in, don’t move around. Just stand to the side and watch.” After scrubbing in, Daniel rushed past me and took Hailey’s hand. “It’s all my fault. I got too carried away.” Hailey reached up and caressed his face, managing a weak smile. “It’s okay. To make you happy, we can do it again next time.” “It’s because you’re so charming. I’d do anything for you.” Listening to their banter, I froze for a second. The scalpel in my hand slipped and fell to the floor. Seeing my carelessness, Daniel roared at me. “How did someone like you become a doctor? With hands like that, what if you slip and cut the patient?” “I suggest you take this seriously. If anything happens to my wife, this hospital is finished!” “If you can’t do it, just say so! I’ll take my wife to a major hospital. I know people there, much more professional than you.” Wife? A bitter smile formed on my lips. The only reason he had come to this smaller clinic was probably to avoid running into me at the provincial hospital where I worked. But he never could have imagined that I would be here today, supervising a training session. And that I would happen to run into him and his little girlfriend. Almost no one at this clinic knew who my husband was, so he wasn’t afraid of anyone telling on him. That’s why he could so brazenly pretend to be married to someone else here. He would never, in his entire life, have guessed that I was standing right in front of him. Listening to him spew his filth. The surgery was quick. After the anesthesia, it was a simple matter of removing the objects. After the procedure, as I walked out of the operating room, I heard an impatient voice from the hallway. “Just make up an excuse. I’m busy here. I don’t have time to spend Valentine’s Day with her.” “Tell her I’m in an important meeting and not to call me at all today.” Not long after he hung up, I received a message from his assistant. “Mr. Hayes is in a meeting and might have to go on a business trip out of state. He’ll be busy for the next couple of days. He wanted me to apologize to you.” “The roses he ordered for you have been delivered to your home. That’s all.” “Okay, I understand.” My calm demeanor seemed to surprise the assistant. After all, I was usually very interested in Daniel’s schedule, constantly pestering his assistant for details. After hanging up, I was about to take a break when another doctor came running towards me in a panic. 02 “Dr. Evans, come quick!” “That patient from before, something’s wrong!” There was a large bloodstain on his chest. I was startled. “It’s the patient’s heart. She just vomited blood.” How could this be? I didn’t understand. I rushed to a computer to look up Hailey’s pre-operative examination reports. All I found was blank data. Besides her name and age, all other critical information was missing. A nurse explained anxiously, “The patient was an emergency case. She’s been receiving treatment at the provincial hospital, so we don’t have her records here.” I suddenly understood. For them to be playing so rough, they must have been using drugs. The patient was likely suffering from kidney failure induced by some kind of substance. I immediately contacted the lab. “Get a blood test for her, now. Give me the results as soon as they’re ready.” The patient was rushed back into the operating room. Just as I was about to enter, Daniel blocked my path. Without a word, he slapped me across the face. “It’s your fault, you quack! I knew you were incompetent. Go get the best doctor in this hospital, now!” The muscles in his face trembled with rage, his eyes shot with fury. Other medical staff rushed forward to intervene, shielding me behind them. But Daniel was relentless, shouting abuse. “If anything happens to her today, none of you will get away with it. Especially you! You’ll pay with your life!” The faces of the doctors around me turned grim. The man’s words were vicious. This madman was a completely different person from the charming, sophisticated man I thought I knew. It was only then that I truly understood. I had never seen him for who he really was. “What is wrong with you? Doctors aren’t gods. They can’t cure every disease. Besides, if her condition was so serious, why didn’t you go to the main provincial hospital?” “Yeah! If you’re so well-connected, why not go to a major hospital?” people in the crowd started to chime in. Daniel was, of course, unable to answer. He wouldn’t dare go to the provincial hospital. Too many people there knew him. The lab report arrived. I glanced at the data and immediately understood the situation. All the indicators pointed to one thing. Hailey had overdosed on stimulants. No wonder her heart rate was so high. What was even more infuriating was that Hailey was also pregnant. It must have been too early for them to have noticed. There was no time to wonder who the father was. I held up the report and roared at Daniel. “She’s pregnant, and you let her take those drugs? You’re worse than an animal!” “In all my years as a doctor, you are the most despicable man I have ever seen!” Daniel’s face turned deathly pale. He mumbled, “The guy at the pharmacy said… it was harmless.” I was about to retort when, from behind me, my best friend’s furious voice cut through the air. “I took the drugs willingly! What business is it of yours, you outsider?” “You uptight women will never understand my kind of happiness!” She wanted to say more, but her body could no longer support her shouting. She began to convulse violently and then passed out. There was no time to lose. I quickly assigned tasks to the surgical team, and we prepared to enter the operating room. Just then, my arm was grabbed. It was Daniel, holding a bank card. “All this talk, it’s about this, isn’t it?” “There’s ten thousand on this card. Fix her up, and there’s a bonus in it for you.” I took the card from him. A flicker of pleasure crossed his face. Then, right in front of him, I threw the card on the floor. “Get out of my way.” 03 Hailey’s condition was extremely critical. I had never dealt with a similar case, and the difficulty of the surgery skyrocketed. We had to consider her physical state and the side effects of the drugs. I was giving it my all, but we were at a point where we had to choose between the mother and the child. Since the fetus was still small, we had to choose the mother. The doctors in the room looked troubled. They knew that with this level of trauma, it would be nearly impossible for her to have children in the future. But the patient’s fading vital signs left us no time for hesitation. I looked up at one of my assistants. “Go have the family member sign the critical condition notice. Inform him of the situation. The fetus cannot be saved.” I was just about to focus on the next step of the procedure—stopping the bleeding and suturing—when a sharp, tearing pain shot through my abdomen. It was so intense I almost collapsed. I had to sit down and rest. Fortunately, we hadn’t reached the most critical part of the surgery yet, and a colleague took over for me. I gasped for air, and after a moment, the pain subsided. Then, I forced my weakened body to complete the most difficult part of the surgery. After more than two hours, the operation was finally over. We observed her for a while longer, and only after confirming that Hailey’s vitals were stable did we wheel her out of the operating room. The moment I stepped out, my legs gave way, and I nearly fell. The other doctors rushed to support me. “You’ve been through so much, Dr. Evans. Performing surgery while pregnant… you’re incredible.” “You’re a true national treasure in medicine. It’s an honor to learn from you.” “Don’t worry, we’ll report this to the director. We’ll make sure you get an award for this.” I touched my stomach, a bitter twitch at my lips. It didn’t matter anymore. This child… I wasn’t going to keep it. They helped me back to the break room. Before I even got inside, I saw Daniel, his face contorted in a snarl, his fists clenched, storming towards me. Before anyone could react, he kicked me hard in the stomach. “You’re the one, you quack! You killed my child!” “I knew the doctors here were useless! You can’t even handle a simple case!” His shout drew a crowd in the hallway. Daniel pointed at me on the floor and roared. “My wife was fine when she went in, and when she came out, the baby was gone!” “This doctor just thought the money I offered wasn’t enough. Five thousand dollars! A whole five thousand, and she thought it was too little! She threw the card on the floor!” “Everyone, be the judge! We can’t let this murderer get away with it!” The kick felt like a bolt of lightning. I collapsed to the floor, shaking uncontrollably. The other doctors, finally reacting, rushed to restrain him. But Daniel was like a ravenous beast. He shoved them aside and dragged me to a corner. “You tell me! Why did you give up on saving my child? It took me so long to have this child, and now, because of a vicious doctor like you, it’s gone!” “You small-time clinics should all be shut down! You can’t even save a baby!” “If I had known you were all so useless, I would have gone to the provincial hospital!” He vented his rage hysterically. And under his rough handling, I lost consciousness. Daniel was still not done. He took out his phone and reached to pull the mask from my face. “I’m going to expose you online! I’ll let everyone see what a butcher you are.” He ripped off my mask, still ranting. “Hmph, don’t be shy. Let everyone see your face!” He got closer, grabbing my hair, the camera lens fixed on my face. The moment he saw who I was, he froze completely, stumbling back several steps in disbelief. “How can it be you? … You, what are you doing here?”

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Three years after our wedding, and Jaxson still hadn’t made it legal. He kept putting off signing the marriage license. Tonight, I heard him through the haze of a drunken party, his voice raw as he confessed to a friend. “Ava was kidnapped, man. I just… I feel like she’s tainted.” His next words were a whisper, but they hit me like a physical blow. “Her family’s bankrupt now, you know? And she has no idea my company is about to go public.” My blood ran cold, freezing me in place. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Then, I watched as he casually pulled another woman into his lap, his lips tracing a path down to her stomach. She was a singer from the bar, young and impossibly beautiful. As I stood there, stunned, my phone buzzed. A friend request. I opened it to see a photo of an ultrasound. The message attached was pure venom: You tainted little thing. What have you got that I don’t? What Jaxson didn’t know, what no one knew, was that I was never kidnapped. Three years ago, I was an undercover operative on a high-stakes, top-secret rescue mission. My fingers, shaking, typed a message to my father. “Dad, where’s that private island of yours? Time to send the jet.” The day I finally walk away from Jaxson will be the day my secrets, and the truth of what happened that night, are finally brought to light. 1 The family photo album on the shelf felt unusually thick. I slid my fingers into the back sleeve and pulled out what was hidden inside: an ultrasound photo. Scrawled on the back in Jaxson’s handwriting were the words, “Hello, little one. Daddy loves you.” The address on the clinic’s letterhead led me to a sleek, low-lit lounge downtown. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it. Jaxson—my Jaxson, who prided himself on his respectable, academic family, on his propriety—was leaning back on a plush sofa, his shirt unbuttoned, letting some woman smear her lipstick all over his chest. He always told me I was graceful, composed, the perfect wife. It seems that title was just a cage to keep me in, while he roamed free. His friends gave them a wide berth, a silent understanding passing between them as the two whispered and kissed. I could just make out their low chatter over the music. “I thought Jaxson was head-over-heels for his wife? Guess our Mia has him wrapped around her little finger now.” “Well, Mia gave him three years of her life, and she was untouched. She’s the one who’s been hurting.” “So why won’t he just divorce the other one? Give Mia the life she deserves.” “Shh! Don’t even go there. Word is, he never even signed the papers with that… damaged girl.” “Damaged? Ooh, spill the tea…” I huddled in a dark corner, the hood of my sweatshirt pulled low, a ghost in their world of secrets. Across the room, on that velvet sofa, Jaxson and the singer—Mia—were wrapped around each other. His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping her, as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones. Mia’s face was flushed, but even in their passionate embrace, she found a moment to twist the knife. My phone lit up with another text from her. Ava, do you know why he hasn’t touched you in three years? Because you’re tainted. He told me. Every time he looks at you, all he can picture is what happened that night you were gone. I stared at the dark screen, my whole body trembling. So that was it. That was the real reason he’d been dragging his feet. Three years ago, I’d received a coded message activating me for a rescue operation. The task force knew about my training, my background—they knew everything. It coincided with a string of kidnappings in the city, so I let myself be taken to infiltrate the group. I got the girls out. All of them. But the ringleader escaped and is still at large, which is why I could never show Jaxson the mission footage as proof. I told him, over and over, that nothing happened to me that night. That I was still me. I even had some of the other rescued women vouch for me, but he refused to believe it. Once a seed of doubt takes root, it’s impossible to pull it out. Now, watching them, my heart felt like it had been ground to dust. I was done. Tired of trying, tired of loving. Mia, however, was a master multitasker. Her body was still coiled around Jaxson, yet she was texting me again. Oh, and I forgot to tell you. I’m pregnant. He said he’s going to make things official with me as soon as the baby starts showing. Then you’ll just be the pathetic other woman. Haha. Pregnant. The other woman. The words swam in my tear-filled eyes. I slammed back a shot of tequila, then another, a part of me wanting to march over there and throw a drink in their faces. But my body wouldn’t obey. I was frozen, trembling, unable to even form a word. At the table next to mine, one of Jaxson’s drunk friends got bold. He shouted across the room, “Jaxson, my man! If you don’t have the guts to tell Ava, we’ll do it for you! Can’t let Mia and the baby be treated like this!” Jaxson’s arms, which had been wrapped around Mia, suddenly dropped. Her face fell, and she shot the friend a venomous look. But Jaxson simply stood up. He calmly straightened his shirt, walked over to his friend, and punched him squarely in the jaw. His voice was ice. “Don’t you ever talk about my wife like that. Anyone who brings this up with her will have to deal with me.” He sidestepped Mia’s attempt to cling to him, his eyes suddenly clear and sober. “That’s enough for tonight. I have to get home to Ava.” And with that, he turned and walked out of the bar. Mia stared after him, her face a mask of disbelief and fury, before collapsing onto the table in a storm of sobs. I watched it all unfold with a cold, hollow laugh. My heart was finally, blessedly, calm. My father’s reply came quickly. What’s wrong, pumpkin? Is your husband coming too? Did you tell him about the island? I typed back: No. Just me. The three dots appeared and disappeared for a long time before his final message came through. Got it. Give your old man three days. I’m coming to bring my princess home. 2 When I got home, the table was set with a warm, three-course meal. Jaxson, wearing an apron, knelt to take off my shoes, then scooped me into his arms and set me down at the table. He’d even laid out a warm, damp towel for me to wash my hands. He’d already changed into his pajamas, and his freshly laundered shirt was hanging by the window, all traces of the bar—and Mia—gone. Everything was just as it always was. There wasn’t a single shred of evidence of his betrayal. He was playing the part of the perfect, doting husband. The only thing he never did was share my bed. I remembered one night, not long after the “kidnapping.” Jaxson had come home drunk and pushed me down onto the bed. But before I could even unbutton my shirt, he’d clapped a hand over his mouth and bolted for the bathroom. When he came out, he leaned against the wall, looking weak. “Honey, I’m sorry. I had too much to drink. I couldn’t hold it down. Let’s… let’s save our first night for after we make it official.” He went to the study that night and had slept there ever since. Three years. Three years of a beautifully crafted lie that had completely fooled me. It wasn’t the alcohol that made him sick. It was me. The thought of me, the idea of touching me, disgusted him. Now, he held a piece of food up to my lips with his chopsticks, his eyes full of loving expectation. I stared at him, and suddenly, a wave of nausea rolled through me. I shot up and ran to the bathroom, vomiting violently into the toilet. Jaxson rushed in after me, his face etched with worry. “Ava! What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” “I’m fine,” I said, my voice cold and distant. “Just had a little too much to drink with my coworkers.” He had no idea that now, it was him who made me sick. The next day, I composed myself and went to the hospital to quit my job. I was just a nurse; a big hospital like this wouldn’t even notice I was gone. As I was walking out with a box of my personal belongings, Jaxson burst through the doors, frantically supporting Mia. “Doctor! Someone, help! You have to check on her, check on my wife and our baby!” He was in such a panic that he slammed right into me, knocking my box to the floor. When he saw it was me, his face went deathly pale. He completely forgot about Mia, who was being helped away by other nurses. He stammered, his words tripping over each other. “Ava, honey, don’t misunderstand. She’s… she’s the wife of a friend. He’s out of town, and I was so worried I just… I said she was my wife in the heat of the moment.” I knelt, picking up my scattered things, my voice flat. “Right. I understand.” He finally noticed the box in my hands. His brow furrowed. “Ava, did you quit?” I didn’t answer. He took the heavy box from me. “It’s for the best,” he said, trying to sound cheerful. “I can support ten of you now without breaking a sweat. From now on, you can just stay home and enjoy life.” He was about to walk me out when a nurse called after him. “Sir? Mr. Jaxson? We need your signature for Mia’s admission forms.” He looked at me, torn. I looked up and managed a small smile. “Go on.” Seeing me smile seemed to reassure him, and he hurried off. That night, a text from Mia. She wanted to meet me at the bar. When I arrived, Jaxson was, of course, already there. Mia, looking pale and fragile after her scare at the hospital, stood on the small stage. She looked right at us and announced she was going to sing a song to thank us for our help. The song she sang was a heartbreaking ballad of unrequited love, every note, every word, a declaration of her love for Jaxson. In their world, in this bar, I was the villain. The audience erupted in applause as she finished and made her way to our table. Jaxson was busy excitedly showing me the “proper” way to drink tequila. Mia sat down, placing a hand on her stomach with a small, knowing smile. “You know, Jaxson hardly ever used to drink. I was the one who taught him all about tequila.” I met her gaze. Jaxson had nearly destroyed his stomach with alcohol-fueled stress during his startup phase. I had no idea what she thought she was gloating about. “Oh, really? Well, Miss Mia, you certainly seem to be an expert on the nightlife scene. You know so much.” Her face went white. She looked helplessly at Jaxson, who suddenly stood up, mumbling about needing the restroom. The second he was gone, Mia dropped the act. Her voice was pure acid. “Don’t you dare talk down to me, Ava. Everyone knows Jaxson can’t stand to touch you. I may have worked in a bar, but I’ve only ever been with him. You, on the other hand… a whole night with your kidnappers. Tsk, tsk. We all know what that means.” A slow smile spread across my face. “Don’t be so quick to judge, Mia. Yes, I was held for a night. But I seem to recall seeing a woman in the kidnapper’s back room… acting like a little dog for them. Funny, now that I think about it, she looked an awful lot like you.” Mia shot to her feet, her lips trembling. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! You have no proof! Don’t you dare slander me!” Her panic was all the confirmation I needed. But I wasn’t going to expose her just yet. That would be far too boring. Seeing my silence, she seemed to relax. Just then, Jaxson started walking back from the restroom. In a sudden, dramatic move, Mia grabbed a shot glass and threw back a gulp of tequila. By the time Jaxson reached the table, she was hunched over, retching. “Oh, Ava,” she cried, looking up with tear-filled eyes. “A pregnant woman really shouldn’t drink. Please don’t force me. I swear, there’s nothing going on between me and Jaxson.” Jaxson’s gaze on me turned to ice. For the first time in our entire relationship, he yelled at me. “Ava! Did you just force a pregnant woman to drink?” I raised an eyebrow. “I did no such thing. Are you going to believe her, or are you going to believe me?” Jaxson scoffed. “What pregnant woman would risk her own baby’s life just to make a point? I never knew you could be so vicious, so consumed by jealousy.” I stood up. There was a full glass of tequila still on the table. I picked it up, threw its contents squarely in Jaxson’s face, and walked out without a word. 3 I walked home, the cool night air doing little to calm the fire in my chest. When I arrived, the front door was wide open. The moment I stepped inside, Jaxson’s mother hurled a teacup at my feet, where it shattered into a hundred pieces. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in! How dare you lay a hand on my son, you worthless girl!” I was confused. When had I hit Jaxson? Then his father shoved a phone in my face. It was a video of me, just moments ago, throwing the drink at Jaxson in the bar. A quick glance at the chat history confirmed my suspicion. Mia had sent it to them. Jaxson’s younger sister looked me up and down with utter contempt. “Ava, you were defiled three years ago. It was my brother’s love and pity that made him marry you. And this is how you repay him? You ungrateful bitch, now you’re physically attacking him?” His parents sat on the sofa like a king and queen on their thrones, their eyes boring into me. “Our family has been respected for generations,” his mother sneered. “We ignored all the gossip and welcomed you into our home. Is this your gratitude?” “Ever since your father went bankrupt, we’ve been saddled with you—damaged goods. Do you have any idea how much our Jaxson has suffered?” his father added. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Respected for generations? Is that what you call letting your son cheat on his wife and marry some barfly?” “Shut your mouth!” his sister shrieked. “How dare you call my future sister-in-law a barfly! Mia may sing in a bar, but she supports herself. She doesn’t rely on a man. She gave herself to my brother pure and untouched, not like a tainted creature like you.” I actually snorted. “Pure and untouched? How would you know? Did you watch them?” Jaxson’s father, furious, pointed a trembling finger at me. “You… you vulgar woman! Get out of my son’s house!” I was about to tell them that I’d paid half for this house, and if anyone was getting out, it would be them. But before I could speak, the door opened again. It was Jaxson, helping a frail-looking Mia inside. He froze for a second when he saw everyone was there. Mia let out a little “ouch” and collapsed onto my favorite armchair, casually grabbing my pashmina to cover herself. Before I could even tell her to get her hands off it, Jaxson rushed over and snatched the scarf away. “Don’t use that,” he said, a look of disgust on his face. Mia’s lips curled into a triumphant smirk. “Oh, Jaxson, honey, I don’t mind. It’s not her fault she was… violated. It wasn’t her choice…” I just stared at them, my blood turning to ice. Mia stood up, pretending to move, and “accidentally” dropped her purse. The contents spilled out, and a property deed slid across the floor. She gasped, covering her mouth. “Oh, my goodness! I’m so sorry. The deed to the gift my darling Jaxson gave me just fell out.” She bent to pick it up, but I was faster. I snatched it from the floor. It was the deed to our marital home. My home. And the name on it was Mia’s. For three years, I never cared about material things. But now, he was giving the home I lived in, the one he apparently found too “dirty” for himself, to her. I held up the deed, my voice dangerously calm. “Jaxson. Do you have anything you want to say to me?” Guilt flickered in his eyes. He stammered, unable to look at me. His parents chimed in from behind him. “What are you afraid of, son? You’ve protected this broken thing for three years. You know what people have been saying about you. It’s time to rip off the band-aid.” Finally, Jaxson made his decision. He pulled Mia to his side, lacing his fingers through hers. “Ava, I’m sorry. It’s just like you see. Mia and I are together. I can’t keep wasting my life like this. With your family’s status now, you can’t be part of the Sanchez family. I hope you can understand.” I stared at him, my heart a dead weight in my chest. “Jaxson, why? Just because of that night? Because you think I’m not clean anymore? But I proved to you nothing happened! If you loved me, none of this would matter—” “Enough!” he roared, cutting me off. “Ava, I said enough! It’s because I loved you that I tried! I tried so hard, but I can’t touch you! The thought of it makes me sick! I’ve seen therapists! I’ve been in hell for three years! Why can’t you understand what I’ve been through?” SLAP! The sound echoed in the silent room. “You’re a coward,” I hissed. “If that’s how you felt, you should have told me. Not betrayed me.” His parents gasped, rushing forward to attack me. But this time, I was ready. I took two steps back and threw open the front door. A team of large, imposing men in dark suits filed in, forming a protective circle around me. They stared down the Sanchez family with cold, hard eyes. A smile touched my lips. “Jaxson, take your family and get out. I never want to see you again.” Backed against a wall, Jaxson spat out one last threat. “This isn’t over, Ava. You’re the one with no money now. Let’s see how long you can afford to pay these thugs. Let’s see you survive without a dime of my money.” I slammed the door shut on his face, feeling nothing but the cold, clean relief of finality. Outside, I could hear his mother’s voice. “Hmph. Just wait. When she’s broke, she’ll come crawling back to our son.”

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