Chapter 1 The day after I gave birth to my twins, they were stolen from me. I was consumed by an unbearable grief, pushing my exhausted, broken body to its absolute limits, searching for them for two excruciating years. I never found them. It wasn’t until after I died that I saw the truth. A stranger—a woman I had never met—carrying my babies, marched right up to the gates of the military base where my husband was stationed. She brazenly claimed she was me, telling everyone she was the poor, abandoned wife of the base commander. She stole my name. She enjoyed forty years of the wealth, privilege, and comfort that were rightfully mine. And my children? They spent their entire lives lovingly calling her “Mom.” Then, I opened my eyes. I was back in the hospital, the exact day I was wheeled into the recovery room after giving birth. The patient in the bed next to me smiled warmly and handed over a shiny red apple. “Hey there, honey. You went through a lot today. Eat an apple, get some of your strength back.” I stared at her face, my entire body violently trembling. It was her. The thief who stole my babies in my past life! … “Honey? You finally awake?” A voice drifted over from the side of my bed. I turned my head. The woman from the neighboring bed was sitting cheerfully on the edge of my mattress. She held out a bright red apple. “You went through a lot today. Eat an apple, get some of your strength back.” In that split second, I felt the blood in my veins freeze. This face. The face I had been forced to watch as a ghost for forty agonizing years. She was the one who had stood at the gates of the military base, clutching my son and daughter, claiming her name was Sarah Miller. She cried, saying the babies couldn’t grow up without their father. My husband believed her. My children believed her. Everyone believed her. She wore the clothes meant for me, lived in the house meant for me, and my babies crowded around her, calling her “Mom” for forty years. “Honey?” She pushed the apple closer. My hands, hidden beneath the thin hospital blanket, were shaking so violently I could barely control them. But I forced myself to endure it. “Thank you. But I just had surgery. I can’t stomach anything cold right now.” I didn’t take the apple. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second. Then, it returned. She stood up and reached for the insulated thermos in the corner. “Well, let me get you some hot water then. I just filled this up, it’s nice and hot.” She poured a massive mug full to the brim and handed it to me with both hands. I didn’t move a muscle. “Ma’am, please don’t trouble yourself.” “Tsk, what trouble?” She forcefully shoved the mug onto my bedside table, then leaned over to tuck in the corner of my blanket. “We’re sharing a room, that’s fate! You just gave birth, and you don’t even have a single person here to help you out. How could I just sit by and do nothing?” While she spoke, her eyes kept darting around, studying my face. “I can manage on my own.” She acted like she didn’t hear me. She dragged a chair over and planted herself right next to my bed. “Honey, having twins! What an incredible blessing!” She leaned in closer, her eyes shifting toward the hospital bassinets. “Why hasn’t anyone from your family come by? Where’s your husband? What about your mother-in-law?” The invisible string in my chest snapped tight. Here it comes. This was exactly how she had pumped me for information in my past life. Back then, I had just been stitched up. The anesthesia hadn’t fully worn off, my brain was complete mush, and I answered every question she asked. I foolishly spilled everything. I even thought she was a genuinely kind person for helping me, feeling a sense of warmth toward her. Thinking back on it now, the old me was an absolute idiot. “They’re busy. They’ll be here in a few days.” “Busy?” She clicked her tongue in disapproval. “What kind of business is more important than a wife giving birth? Honey, you haven’t been duped by some guy, have you?” I didn’t respond. She gave me another assessing look. “Well, what are you going to do tonight? You just had a C-section, your incision is fresh. If the babies cry in the middle of the night, you won’t even be able to pick them up.” She suddenly stood up and took a step toward the bassinets. “Tell you what, I’ll keep an eye on the babies for you tonight, and you can get some solid sleep—” She bent over. Her hands reached toward my children. My heart hammered in my chest. I practically screamed. “Don’t touch my babies!” I grabbed Linda’s wrist, my voice so loud it echoed through the entire ward. The older woman in the bed next to Linda jumped up immediately. “What the hell are you doing?! Linda is just trying to be nice, and you put your hands on her?!” A new mother drinking water nearby turned around, frowning and clicking her tongue in disgust. The mother-in-law sitting with the patient across the room pointed a finger right at me. “Young wives these days are so ungrateful! Does she owe you something?” Linda cradled her wrist, her lips trembling. She let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Honey, even if you don’t appreciate the help, you can’t just accuse people like that. I saw you lying here, all alone after having twins, without a single person to even pour you a glass of water. I just felt bad for you.” The older woman chimed in immediately. “Exactly! Linda has been up since this morning, pouring your water, tucking you in, and you don’t even say thank you before pushing her? Were you raised in a barn?” Linda waved her hands dismissively. “Forget it, forget it. Let it go. She just gave birth, she’s anxious. What mother isn’t protective of her cubs?” It sounded like she was defending me, but every single word was carefully designed to paint me as the crazy one. The new mother nearby muttered, “Being anxious means you get to hit people? We’re all mothers here.” The mother-in-law across the room scoffed. “She’s probably just terrified the kids won’t bond with her. I’ve seen her type before.” I ignored them all. Linda retreated to her bed, rubbing her wrist, muttering about how “no good deed goes unpunished.” The older woman cursed at me through the privacy curtain a few more times, but when I didn’t engage, she lost interest, rolled over, and went to sleep. I didn’t sleep. I dragged both bassinets right up against my bed, practically touching my pillow. Close enough that I could reach them instantly. Two wrinkled little faces peeked out from the swaddles, breathing softly, up and down, like tiny kittens. I didn’t close my eyes for a single second that night. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I was too terrified. Every time my eyelids began to droop, the sound of footsteps in the hallway would jolt me awake. My hands would fly into the bassinets, only relaxing when I felt two warm little bodies. Around midnight, Linda got up to use the restroom. As she passed my bed, she paused. I didn’t make a sound. I just lay there, my eyes wide open, staring dead at her in the dark. She seemed startled by my glare, muttered “psycho” under her breath, and hurried away. The next day, she kept her distance. But on the third night, she walked over holding a bowl of millet porridge. “Honey, I’m not holding a grudge over yesterday. You had a C-section, you need to drink some hot broth so your milk comes in—” “No thank you.” “Look at you, your lips are completely cracked—” “I said, no thank you.” She stood there for a long moment, then set the bowl down with a tight smile. “Fine. It’s here if you want it.” She turned and walked away. I stared at the bowl of porridge. Once the ward was asleep, I quietly picked it up and dumped the entire thing into the trash can. By the end of the third day, I was breaking down. I had barely slept for two nights. My incision throbbed constantly, my milk supply was low, and the twins took turns crying. When I held one to feed, the other would wail in the bassinet, loud enough for the entire floor to hear. A nurse came in to check my vitals. My systolic blood pressure was 160. “You can’t keep doing this! Where is your family? You need to call them and tell them to get down here!” Linda, ever present, chimed in with a sympathetic smile. “She’s right, honey. Look at how exhausted you are. You really need to get someone here to help.” I was so tired, my body felt like it was made of lead. The fierce desire to protect my babies warred constantly with the suffocating terror of losing them. My stubbornness finally broke. I gritted my teeth, wondering if I should call my absent, ghost of a husband. The nurse was still pressing for an answer. I opened my mouth, offering a weak brush-off. “There’s no one.” “No one? What about your mother-in-law? Your husband?” I stayed silent. The nurse gave me a long look, sighed, and didn’t push further. She packed up the blood pressure cuff, poured me a fresh cup of water, and her voice softened. “Your incision isn’t healing well. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you’re going to end up with a serious infection. You have to get someone here.” She paused, then added, “If you really don’t want to call family, at least hire a private aide.” I leaned back against the pillows, my vision swimming with black spots. Could an aide watch Linda for me? Could an aide stop those hands from reaching into the bassinets in the three seconds my eyes were closed? I shut my eyes, and my mind was flooded with memories from my past life. Arthur and I did not have a loving marriage. Years ago, his parents had been forced to move to the countryside due to political profiling and ended up in my village. I grew up without a father to protect me or a mother to love me. They took pity on me, and in return, I treated them like my own family. The year the massive mudslide hit the village, I risked my life to drag them both out of the freezing mud. His mother held me and cried, swearing that from that day forward, I was her daughter. Later, when they were cleared to return to the city, they couldn’t bear to leave me behind. They practically forced Arthur to marry me. I was young and naive, and didn’t really object. But Arthur was always incredibly distant. The number of times we actually saw each other could be counted on one hand. My in-laws treated me beautifully, loving me like their own flesh and blood. But they both passed away within the last two years. The house suddenly felt completely empty. Arthur was permanently stationed at the military base, rarely coming home even once a year. The last time he returned, I had drank a little too much wine. I woke up aching, and when I looked over, his side of the bed was empty. He had already gone back to the base. So, I never told him I was pregnant. I stubbornly decided I was going to have these babies all by myself. I never expected that decision to lead me into a trap that would destroy my entire life. Arthur didn’t know I had given birth. But after I died, I watched as he became an incredible father to those two kids. When our daughter ran a high fever, he never left her side, taking three days off work just to care for her. When she refused to take her bitter medicine, he crushed the pills into sugar water and fed it to her drop by drop with a tiny spoon. When she became delirious in the middle of the night, he held her and paced the room until the sun came up. He never once complained. Our son was a rambunctious boy. During the harsh winters, Arthur would go out in the freezing cold to build snowmen with him, tossing him high into the air until he shrieked with laughter. He never missed a single parent-teacher conference, and he always read them bedtime stories. I blinked hard, fighting back the tears. “Nurse.” She was turning to leave, but stopped. “Nurse.” I clenched my jaw. “I need to go make a phone call. Could you… could you please watch my babies for a minute? Just for a minute. Please, do not let anyone touch them.” She looked surprised, but nodded. “Sure. Make it quick.” I had to make the call. I gripped the edge of the bed and forced myself to stand. Every step felt like I was walking on shattered glass. By the time I managed the few dozen steps to the nurses’ station, my hospital gown was soaked in cold sweat. The nurse at the desk helped me dial the military base switchboard. The line clicked and hummed for what felt like an eternity before someone finally answered. “Hello, I am a family member of Commander Arthur Sterling, 14th Division. I’m at the Clear Creek County Hospital. It’s an emergency. Please patch me through to him.” After another agonizing wait, a deep, resonant voice came through the receiver. “This is Sterling.” I opened my mouth, completely unsure of where to even begin. “Arthur… it’s me, Sarah. I’m at Clear Creek County Hospital, I…” As I was trying to find the words, a movement at the end of the hallway caught the corner of my eye. The nurse—the one I had explicitly begged not to leave my babies’ side—was supporting a frail, white-haired old man, walking him toward the restrooms. The door to my ward was wide open. A deafening roar erupted in my ears. The heavy phone receiver slipped from my fingers, slamming against the edge of the desk and spinning by its cord. Arthur’s voice echoed distantly from the earpiece. “Sarah? What’s going on? Hello? Sarah!” I was already running. It felt like someone was tearing my C-section incision open from the inside out, but I didn’t dare stop. “Ma’am! Ma’am! No running in the halls! You’re going to hurt yourself!” Nurses yelled warnings at me, but I didn’t care. I don’t remember how I crossed that hallway. The ward was empty. The window was wide open, the wind whipping the privacy curtains around violently. The bassinets were empty. Only two tiny, depressed indentations remained on the soft mattresses. My babies had been stolen. My vision went completely black. This was exactly how it happened in my past life. In my past life, I drank the water Linda gave me, and when I woke up, the bassinets were just as empty as they were right now. I leaned against the wall and stumbled out of the room, the blinding pain from my incision making the world spin. They weren’t in the hallway. They weren’t in the hot water room. They weren’t in the restrooms. They weren’t in the stairwells. I ripped open every door, tore back every curtain, shoved past every person in my way. People yelled that I was crazy. Some shoved me back. I didn’t hear a thing. When I finally staggered back to the door of my ward, the nurse who had been helping the old man came running down the hall, looking panicked. “Ma’am! Why are you out of bed?! If your stitches tear—” I grabbed her by the collar of her scrubs. “I told you to watch my babies. Where did you go?!” All the color drained from the nurse’s face. “There was an elderly patient… he said he was dizzy and couldn’t stand. I just helped him to the restroom. It was only two minutes—” “Two minutes?!” I felt my lips trembling, all the blood in my body rushing to my head. “My babies are gone! Both of them are gone!” Doors began opening down the hallway. A doctor jogged over, followed closely by the head of the maternity ward. Soon, a crowd formed around us. A patient grabbed my arm, saying, “Calm down, your stitches are going to rip,” but I violently shoved him away and pointed directly at the Head of Maternity. “My babies were stolen. Just minutes ago. Lock down the building. If you lock the doors right now, we can still catch them.” The Head of Maternity froze for a second, then roared at the nurses beside him. “Call Security! Lock the main entrance, the side doors, the back exits! Do not let a single person leave the building—” “It was her,” I interrupted, my voice so cold I barely recognized it as my own. “The woman in the bed next to mine. Linda Hayes. The second I woke up from surgery, she kept hovering, asking questions about my babies. Now she’s gone, and my babies are gone.” A younger doctor standing nearby hesitated. “Ma’am, please don’t jump to conclusions. Maybe the nursery nurses just took them for a routine checkup—” I let out a harsh, furious laugh and opened my mouth to scream at him, when a sudden, blinding pain ripped through my abdomen. I doubled over, unable to stand straight. Two nurses grabbed my arms and half-carried me toward the nurses’ station. Halfway there, a lightning bolt of realization struck my brain. I violently shook off the nurses and lunged at the young receptionist logging charts behind the desk. “The old man! The skinny old man with white hair who just pretended to faint in the hallway!” The young nurse looked totally lost. “What old man?” “She has an accomplice! An old man!” I screamed. “He was the one who lured the nurse away—” The nurse who had helped the old man suddenly slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. She shoved through the crowd, sprinting toward the patient rooms. A few seconds later, she stumbled back out, her voice cracking in panic. “Bed 4 is empty! But Mr. Henderson with the broken leg never left the room! That old man wasn’t a patient!” It hit everyone at once—the old man had faked an illness to lure the nurse away, giving Linda the exact window she needed to steal the babies. They worked in perfect sync. From the moment Linda left the room to the moment the nurse walked away, the entire operation took less than three minutes. The Head of Maternity deployed everyone. Staff tore through every floor, every corner, the hospital descending into total chaos like boiling water spilling across the floor. Finally, security cornered someone near a second-floor storage closet. Linda. When the security guards dragged her out by her wrists, she was still wearing a face of righteous indignation, looking at everyone like they were the crazy ones. I lunged forward and slapped her across the face with everything I had. SMACK. The force of the blow snapped her head to the side. She stumbled backward, crashing into the wall, clutching her cheek and staring at me in utter disbelief. “You hit me?!” “Where are my babies?!” I grabbed her by the collar of her hospital gown. “Where the hell did you hide my babies?!” Linda clutched her cheek, her eyes welling with tears, playing the ultimate victim. “Your babies are missing, you’re frantic, I get it. I’ll let the slap slide. But what gives you the right to accuse me?! I was just walking with the rounding nurse! Honey, are you going to point the finger at every single person you see?!” Right on cue, the whispers in the crowd began. “She has a point. Just because her kids are missing doesn’t mean she gets to assault people.” I was shaking with so much rage I could barely breathe. Half an hour passed. The babies were not found. Patient rooms, exam rooms, lounges, restrooms. Every conceivable hiding spot was searched, but they had vanished into thin air. The main doors were locked. No one could leave. Patients waiting to be discharged began to riot. The Head of Maternity stood at the doors, begging everyone to wait just a little longer, but no one was listening. A doctor ran up to me, asking if I could just let them open the doors. I stood frozen, my entire body shaking uncontrollably. It was exactly like my past life. I was going to lose my babies all over again. I glared at Linda. She met my eyes and actually smiled. The pain was so blinding I could no longer stand. I leaned heavily against the wall, cold sweat pouring down my face like rain. The memories of my past life violently overlapping with the present made my face drain of all color. I was on the verge of passing out. Just as my knees gave way and I began to slide down the wall, a strong arm caught me. My vision was blurred with white spots. I was pulled against a solid chest. Arthur’s face was dark with terror. He gently cupped my face, his voice desperate. “Sarah? Sarah?! Can you hear me?” I grabbed his wrist with a vice-like grip, the tears finally breaking free and spilling down my cheeks. “Arthur… please, save our babies. Someone stole them, and I can’t find them…” Arthur’s expression instantly changed to something terrifying. He gestured sharply to his lieutenant. Within seconds, the entire hospital was surrounded by heavily armed soldiers from Arthur’s personal guard. The main entrance, the side doors, the rear exits—all locked down. No one in, no one out. Two armed soldiers flanked every exit, standing as rigid and immovable as iron pillars. The civilians waiting to leave in the lobby were stunned into silence, then immediately erupted into outrage. “What the hell is this?! You can’t keep us hostage!” The crowd surged angrily toward the main doors. The lieutenant vaulted over the reception desk in three steps, planting his boots firmly on the countertop. He projected his voice so loudly the entire lobby reverberated. “Listen up! The missing infants are the children of Commander Arthur Sterling of the 14th Division! A pair of newborn twins. They are currently in grave danger! We demand your full cooperation. No one leaves this building!”

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Chapter 1 In the parent-teacher WhatsApp group, the class president’s mom, Brenda Hayes, suddenly tagged me. [Chloe’s mom, you need to get a handle on your daughter.] [She’s too young to be acting this fast. She’s throwing herself at my son every day and ruining his focus.] She attached a photo. In the picture, my daughter, Chloe, was kneeling in front of Brenda’s son, Liam, picking up scattered textbooks with her head bowed down. In my past life, this was the exact moment I panicked. I spent thirty minutes typing out frantic explanations in the group chat. But the more I explained, the quieter the chat got. Finally, one of the parents sent a passive-aggressive message: [If nothing is really going on, why are you getting so defensive?] From that day on, Chloe was crucified with the label “boy-crazy tramp.” Her locker was vandalized with slurs, her gym uniform was doused in ink, and her Science Olympiad prep materials were ripped to shreds. Her homeroom teacher advised me: “Blowing this up will only hurt Chloe more. It’s better if you just have her apologize and keep her head down.” And I listened to her. Half a month later, Chloe jumped off the roof of the high school. By the time I got to the hospital, she was already covered by a white sheet. Brenda Hayes stood at the end of the hallway and said coldly: “Her mental health was that fragile? You can’t blame anyone but yourselves.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the exact moment the parent group chat exploded. This time, I didn’t break down or try to debate them. I tapped the screen-record button on my phone and slowly typed: [Excuse me, do you have any actual proof that my daughter is throwing herself at your son?] 1. The group chat was dead silent for three seconds. Brenda quickly fired back: [Proof? Is the photo not proof?] [She’s literally on her knees in front of him. How much more obvious do you need it to be?] I looked at the photo again. She had cropped it perfectly. It only showed the split second Chloe was crouching down. No context before, no context after. I replied: [The photo only shows my daughter picking up books.] [Can you point out exactly which part proves she’s ‘throwing herself’ at him?] Brenda didn’t reply immediately. Instead, other parents started chiming in. [Let’s just handle this privately. Making a scene isn’t good for the kids.] [Liam gets straight A’s and is on the honor roll. He probably wouldn’t just make things up.] [Moms of girls definitely need to keep a closer eye on them at this age.] I stared at the familiar profile pictures, my fingers turning to ice. In my last life, it was these exact people. First, they said “don’t make a scene.” Then, they anonymously bullied Chloe online, calling her “easy” and a “slut.” When Chloe actually died, these same people said: [If she was that mentally unstable, why didn’t the parents notice sooner?] I didn’t bother explaining. I just sent three sentences: [First, please do not substitute “he probably wouldn’t” for actual evidence.] [Second, please do not default to assuming my daughter is at fault.] [Third, I am currently screen-recording this chat, and every accusation made tonight is being saved.] Mrs. Davis, the homeroom teacher, finally intervened. [Everyone, let’s calm down. Let’s not let teenage drama escalate into arguments between parents.] Brenda immediately replied: [Mrs. Davis, I’m not being unreasonable here! But my son told me Chloe won’t leave him alone, and she keeps slipping notes into his locker.] I asked: [Where are the notes?] Brenda paused for a few seconds. [He threw that garbage away, obviously. Why would he keep something so gross?] I typed back calmly: [So what you’re saying is, you have zero proof.] Brenda switched to sending a voice memo. Her voice was shrill. “Sarah, stop acting high and mighty! Everyone knows your family situation. Your husband hasn’t shown his face in years. You’re a single mom obsessed with working and making money. Of course your daughter is acting out. It was only a matter of time!” I listened to it, used the voice-to-text feature, screenshotted the transcription, and saved the audio file. Then I replied: [This last message is a public defamation of my character and my family. I have preserved it as well.] Brenda completely lost it. [Are you threatening me?!] [No wonder your daughter is so shameless! She learned it from you!] Mrs. Davis tried to play peacekeeper again. [I’ll talk to both students tomorrow and get to the bottom of this. Please, let’s not let our imaginations run wild tonight.] I asked her directly: [Mrs. Davis, in the photo, my daughter is crouched on the floor picking up books. Could you explain why the books were scattered on the floor in the first place?] Mrs. Davis didn’t answer. Brenda beat her to it: [Who knows? Maybe she staged the whole thing herself! Girls like her love playing the victim.] I stared at those words and slowly typed back: [Brenda, if someone kicked her books out of her hands, that is called bullying. Not flirting.] [I expect you to retract your false statements and apologize.] She replied with a laughing emoji. [Apologize? In your dreams.] [If your daughter is so innocent, tell her to stay the hell away from my son.] [Otherwise, I don’t mind letting the whole school know exactly what kind of trash she really is.] I didn’t reply. The screen-recording was still running. I heard the sound of keys turning in the front door. Chloe was home. 2. When the door opened, Chloe stood in the entryway. Her school uniform was a wrinkled mess. There was a large, damp stain on her sleeve that hadn’t been fully wiped away. The zipper on her backpack was busted, so she was forced to hug it to her chest to keep it closed. When she saw me, her first reaction wasn’t to cry. It was sheer panic. “Mom, I swear I didn’t do it.” My heart physically ached. In my last life, she had said the exact same thing to me. But back then, I had just finished reading the toxic group chat. My brain was panicked, obsessed with doing damage control. My very first question to her was: “Have you been getting too close to Liam?” Chloe had frozen. I only found out later that my question hurt her more than any of the slurs in the group chat ever could. Because even I—her own mother—had suspected her first. This time, I didn’t ask her anything. I walked over, took her broken backpack, and opened it. Inside, several of her workbooks were waterlogged and ruined. On the cover of the top notebook, written in thick black Sharpie, were the words: SLUT. Chloe instinctively reached out to snatch it away. “Mom, don’t look.” I grabbed her cold, trembling hand. “Chloe, I know you didn’t do anything wrong.” Her eyes instantly flooded with red. “He kicked my books out of my hands onto the floor.” “He said I was acting like a stuck-up prude.” “When I tried to walk away, he blocked me. When I knelt down to pick up my books, someone snapped that picture.” Her voice was shaking violently. “Mom, I swear I never followed him. I never put notes in his locker.” I pulled her tightly into my arms. “I am never going to let you face this alone again.” That night, I didn’t interrogate her. I just sat with her while she ate dinner, and then I securely backed up the screen-recordings of the group chat. Before bed, I placed a small, discreet digital voice recorder into her palm. “If anyone insults you, threatens you, or destroys your property again, you press this button.” Chloe looked down at the recorder. I held both of her hands. “Being bullied is not your fault.” “Being too scared to speak up is not your fault.” “But starting today, no matter what happens, you tell me.” She was quiet for a long time, then gave a small nod. Over the next few days, Brenda didn’t stop. She sent a picture of Chloe standing in a school hallway, claiming she was “waiting for Liam again.” I replied calmly: [Standing in a public hallway between periods is considered flirting now?] She posted a cropped screenshot of a text message. It only showed one message from Liam: [Leave me alone.] I asked her: [Where is the rest of the conversation?] She ignored me. On the third night, she posted a photo of a diary page. The handwriting belonged to Chloe. It read: [Liam came looking for me again today.] Brenda’s caption: [She literally wrote it in her diary! And you’re still denying she’s obsessed?] I stared at the photo, my blood running cold. That was Chloe’s private journal. I took a screenshot first, then typed: [Explain exactly how you obtained my minor daughter’s private diary.] [Publishing a minor’s private property without consent is a violation of privacy laws, and I will be pursuing legal action for this as well.] The group chat went dead silent. A few minutes later, Brenda “un-sent” the photo. But I had already saved it. 3. Friday afternoon. I was in the middle of a corporate meeting. My phone suddenly buzzed. It was an automatic cloud-sync notification from Chloe’s voice recorder. I clicked play. The audio started with some static, followed by Liam’s voice. “Chloe, your mom loves taking screenshots, doesn’t she?” “Tell her to keep taking them.” A few kids laughed in the background. Another girl’s voice chimed in: “Your diary is literally all over the internet. Stop acting like you’re too good for us.” Liam lowered his voice. “I’m gonna ask you one last time. Are you coming this weekend or not?” Chloe’s voice was faint, but crystal clear. “No.” “I have Science Olympiad prep this weekend.” There was a brief silence, followed by the sickening sound of thick paper being ripped in half. Liam scoffed. “Science Olympiad?” “You really think you’re still competing?” “Don’t push your luck, bitch.” I stood up so fast my chair scraped loudly against the floor. Everyone in the boardroom stared at me. I didn’t bother explaining. I grabbed my car keys and walked out. By the time I pulled up to the high school, the final bell had just rung. I found Chloe behind the gym, near the equipment shed. Her Science Olympiad prep packets were scattered all over the dirt. Several pages were ripped in half, covered in muddy footprints. She was crouching on the ground, picking up the papers one by one. Her eyes were red, but she wasn’t crying. Liam was standing next to her, his hands shoved casually into his letterman jacket pockets. When he saw me, he actually smirked. “Perfect timing, Mrs. Evans.” “Your daughter is stalking me again.” I didn’t argue with him. I pulled out my phone, started recording video, and panned across the scattered papers, the footprints, the shed, and the students watching. Then I asked: “Who tore these papers?” Liam raised an eyebrow. “How should I know?” A guy standing next to him snickered. “She probably ripped them herself so she could play the victim.” I pointed my camera directly at him. “What is your name?” The boy instantly shut his mouth. I turned the camera back to Liam. “You said my daughter is stalking you. Her Olympiad prep room is on the third floor of the main building. Why are you all the way out here behind the gym?” Liam’s face stiffened for a second. “I was just walking by.” I nodded. “Great. We’ll pull the security footage and see if you were ‘just walking by,’ or if you followed her all the way out here.” His expression finally cracked. More students were gathering around. Someone had run to get Mrs. Davis. Liam looked down and furiously typed a text message. A few minutes later, Brenda came clicking across the pavement in her heels. “Sarah! What the hell are you doing now?!” “Your daughter stalks my son every single day, and now you’re trying to intimidate him with security cameras?!” I didn’t stop recording. I just asked: “Brenda, how exactly do you know my daughter stalks your son every day?” She scoffed. “My son told me himself! You think he’d lie to me?” I stared dead into her eyes. “Did he also tell you why he’s currently standing behind the gym, nowhere near his own classes, surrounding my daughter?” Brenda choked on her words. Mrs. Davis hurried over, looking breathless. She glanced at the torn papers on the ground, then at my phone. Her very first sentence was: “Chloe’s mom, please put the phone away.” I kept the camera steady. “I will.” “The moment the school provides me with a written guarantee that today’s security footage for this entire sector will be preserved, I will stop recording.” Mrs. Davis frowned deeply. “You’re making this much uglier than it needs to be.” I looked at her. “Mrs. Davis, this is ugly because my daughter is actively being bullied. Not because I am recording it.” “The fact that your first instinct is to tell me to put my phone away is exactly why it’s ugly.” Brenda immediately started yelling. “Stop acting like the victim!” “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree! You’re a single mom. You obviously don’t know how to raise a kid, so don’t blame us when we have to teach her a lesson for you.” I panned the camera directly to her face. “Say that again.” She flinched. “Are you filming me?!” “You are publicly defaming me and my minor child. I am gathering evidence.” Her face turned beet red. “Evidence, evidence! Is taking pictures the only thing you know how to do?!” I replied calmly: “No.” “I also know how to protect my daughter.” “And I know how to demand that you and your son apologize to her for what happened today.” Brenda looked at me like I had lost my mind. “Apologize?!” She grabbed Liam and pulled him to her side. “My son is the one being harassed! My son is the one whose grades are being threatened by her drama! She sheds a few fake tears, and you think you can flip the script on us?!” I looked at Liam. “Did you tear these papers?” Liam looked down, silent for two seconds. When he looked up, his eyes were actually brimming with tears. “Mrs. Evans, I know you feel bad for Chloe.” “But you can’t just bully me like this.” “She won’t leave me alone. I’ve been trying to hide from her for weeks.” The crowd of students began whispering loudly. Mrs. Davis looked incredibly stressed. “Chloe’s mom, let’s just end this here for today. The kids still have extracurriculars.” I finally understood why, in my past life, Chloe had been bullied into utter silence. When some people lie, they can fake being the victim so perfectly it looks like the absolute truth. I didn’t argue anymore. I just knelt down, picked up the torn papers one by one—including the ones with the muddy shoe prints—and slid them carefully into a manila folder. Behind me, Brenda sneered. “Sarah, if you ever accuse my son of anything again, I swear to god I will make sure everyone in this town knows exactly what kind of trash your daughter really is.” I held Chloe’s hand tightly, turned around, and looked at her. “Brenda. I have recorded that threat as well.” She scoffed. “Write it down! Record it! Let’s see what the hell you can actually do with it.” 4. When I got home that night, I exported the videos and photos I took into my laptop, organizing them in folders by date and time. In my past life, I mistakenly believed that the truth would eventually speak for itself. I learned the hard way that innocence doesn’t have a voice unless you give it one. I was just about to back up the parent group chat recordings when I heard a very soft voice behind me. “Mom.” Chloe was standing in the doorway, her face paper-white, clutching her phone. “They posted it on the school forum.” I took her phone. The top-trending post had a glaring, bright-red clickbait title. [Freshman Girl Gets Rejected by Class President, Psycho Mom Threatens Teachers on Campus?] The post contained three pictures. Chloe kneeling in front of Liam. The stolen photo of her private diary. And a photo of me holding my phone, confronting Mrs. Davis in the hallway. The captions underneath the photos were vile. [I heard her dad walked out on them years ago. Her mom is the only one raising her.] [Daddy issues much? No wonder she’s so desperate.] [She stalks the class president, gets rejected, and then cries to her mommy to come terrorize the school.] The comment section was exploding. [Single-parent households always produce the weirdest kids.] [Poor Liam.] [The school needs to expel her.] Chloe stood next to me, her lips trembling. “Mom… is everyone going to believe them?” I didn’t answer immediately. I opened my screen-recording app and slowly scrolled through the entire post—the title, the photos, and every single comment. Then I handed the phone back to her. “Whether they believe it or not isn’t decided by us begging on our knees.” “It’s decided by the evidence.” Right on cue, the parent group chat started blowing up again. Brenda tagged me directly. [Sarah, I assume you’ve seen the school forum?] [This entire mess is your fault because you insisted on harassing my son for an apology.] [My son’s mental health is in shambles right now. If his GPA drops, are you going to take responsibility?] Other parents immediately jumped in. [Chloe’s mom, please don’t escalate this further.] [A girl’s reputation is important. You really need to reign her in.] Brenda continued: [Tomorrow is the Parent-Teacher Conference. I expect a public apology from you in front of the entire classroom!] [If you don’t, I am taking this straight to the Principal and the School Board.] I typed back calmly: [Brenda, did you create the post on the school forum?] The chat went quiet. Brenda quickly replied: [Stop trying to change the subject.] I asked again: [The photo of the diary in the forum post is the exact same file you sent in this group chat earlier today.] [Did you participate in creating, providing materials for, or distributing that defamatory post?] Brenda paused for a few seconds before sending a voice memo. “Don’t try to throw your dirty water on me! All I asked is that you control your daughter!” The second that message popped up, my phone rang. It was Mrs. Davis. Her voice sounded exhausted and stern. “Chloe’s mom, have you seen the school forum?” “It’s getting out of hand. The district administration has been notified.” I sat at my desk, looking at the meticulously organized evidence folders on my laptop. “I’ve seen it.” Mrs. Davis sighed. “Tomorrow is the Parent-Teacher Conference.” “The administration strongly suggests that you soften your stance tomorrow in front of the other parents.” “What exactly does ‘soften my stance’ mean?” I asked. She stayed silent for a few seconds. “It would be best if you apologized to Liam’s parents on Chloe’s behalf.” “We just need to de-escalate the situation first.” I let out a harsh laugh. “Mrs. Davis, are you asking me to apologize for something my daughter never did, or are you asking me to apologize for the fact that she is actively being bullied?” Dead silence on the other end. After a long pause, she finally said, “Right now, the priority is minimizing the negative impact on the school environment.” I looked out into the living room. Chloe was sitting on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest, looking at me with red, tear-filled eyes. She had heard everything. I shook my head at her, giving her a reassuring look. Then I spoke into the phone. “Tomorrow at the conference, I will make a public statement.” Mrs. Davis audibly exhaled in relief. “I’m glad you’re being reasonable.” After hanging up, Chloe asked me quietly, “Mom, are you really going to apologize to them?” I walked over and gently stroked her hair. “No.” “Mom is going to make sure everyone understands exactly who owes who an apology.” 5. The next afternoon, the classroom was packed before the conference even officially started. When I walked in, Brenda was standing at the front of the room, talking loudly to a group of parents. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.” “Neither did my son. He barely touched his dinner.” “He has been class president his whole life. He’s a straight-A student, loved by his teachers and peers. And now he’s being harassed by this girl, and her mother is trying to bully him into apologizing.” Her eyes actually welled up with tears. “As a mother, how could my heart not break for him?” A parent next to her immediately chimed in: “Liam really is an outstanding kid.” “I saw the forum post. It’s gotten really ugly.” “Parents of girls really need to pay closer attention. Middle school is when they start acting out.” Hearing their support, Brenda seemed to gain even more confidence. She turned, saw me, and raised her voice. “Sarah! Perfect timing.” “Today, in front of Mrs. Davis and all the parents, you need to explain yourself.” “Why is your daughter obsessively stalking my son?!” The classroom fell dead silent. Dozens of eyes locked onto me. I didn’t rush to speak. I calmly set my purse down on an empty desk and opened the voice recording app on my phone. Seeing my phone, Brenda sneered. “Recording again?” “Is hitting ‘record’ and taking screenshots the only thing you know how to do?” I looked at her. “I also know how to let you finish speaking.” The calmness in my voice seemed to infuriate her further. “Fine! Then I’ll say everything I need to say!” “Your daughter is boy-crazy and won’t leave my son alone. When he rejected her, she played the victim and sent her mommy to terrorize the school.” “Yesterday, you tried to force my son to apologize.” “He is a teenage boy. He has his pride. You and your daughter stressed him out so much he didn’t sleep at all last night.” She paused, looking around at the other parents. “We are all parents here.” “If your child was being harassed, and then the stalker’s parent showed up at school to threaten them, would you just take it?” Low murmurs of agreement rippled through the classroom. Seeing no one opposing her, Brenda pressed on. “And let’s be honest, we all know what her home life is like.” “Her husband has been completely absent for years. It’s just her, raising that girl alone.” “I’m not judging single moms, but when a kid has no supervision… of course she’s going to end up desperate, boy-crazy, and acting out!” The moment she said that, the room went uncomfortably quiet. But no one stepped up to defend me. Some parents looked down at their phones. Some pretended to dig through their bags. Others gave me looks of subtle pity or judgment. In my past life, those exact looks had broken me. They had forced me into a desperate, pathetic explanation. I had pleaded that Chloe wasn’t that kind of girl. I had explained that her father’s job was highly classified. I had sworn that I was a present, loving mother. But the more I explained, the guiltier I looked. This time, I just turned to Mrs. Davis, who was standing awkwardly by the podium. “Mrs. Davis, is this the kind of discussion planned for today’s Parent-Teacher Conference?” Mrs. Davis cleared her throat nervously. “Chloe’s mom, since everyone is here today, I was hoping you could show some willingness to resolve this.” Brenda immediately jumped in. “I want a public apology from Sarah.” “I want Chloe to stay far away from my son.” “If she can’t do that, she needs to be transferred to a different homeroom.” She scoffed. “If you still can’t control her, she needs to be expelled.” The murmurs in the classroom grew louder. “Expulsion seems a bit extreme, doesn’t it?” “But the forum post is out of control. The school has to do something.” “The main thing is we can’t let her distract the other students.” I stood perfectly still, listening to every single word. Then I asked: “Are you finished?” Brenda blinked, caught off guard. I looked at Mrs. Davis. “Are you finished as well, Mrs. Davis?” The teacher’s expression froze. I pulled a USB drive out of my purse and walked to the front podium. Mrs. Davis instinctively reached out to stop me. “Chloe’s mom, what are you doing—” I stared her down. “Mrs. Davis, last night you told me to make a public statement at this conference.” “Right now, I am making my statement.” I plugged the USB drive into the podium computer. The projector hummed to life. On the massive smartboard, a single line of text appeared. [EVIDENCE BRIEF: THE DEFAMATION AND BULLYING OF CHLOE EVANS] The classroom instantly went dead silent. Brenda’s face dropped. “Sarah, what the hell is this?” I picked up the microphone. “Since Brenda demanded a public apology, and Mrs. Davis demanded that I show some ‘willingness to resolve this’…” “Let’s break this down, piece by piece.”

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Seven years ago, I threw myself in front of an out-of-control truck to save Liam Sterling. It ruined half my face. After a failed skin graft, the right side of my face was left with twisted, puckered scars, and the corner of my mouth could never fully close again. My best friend, Chloe Bennett, claimed she hated seeing me hide behind a face mask. She insisted on helping me “step out of the shadows.” So, whenever we were in a situation that required me to show my face, she would force me to try. She would slip off my mask while I was asleep, film my defenseless, scarred face, and post it on TikTok. She even pinned her own comment at the very top: “What a horrifying face, literally scared me to death.” When I confronted her, Liam defended her. “Sera, she’s just trying to get you to accept yourself.” At a group dinner with friends, Chloe snatched my mask away right before we walked through the door. When I took a sip of water, it trickled down the side of my mouth that couldn’t close properly. Everyone at the table quickly looked away. She wiped it off for me and laughed, “You’re not afraid of kissing your boyfriend, so why are you afraid of people looking at you?” Someone at the table joked that she and Liam looked more like a real couple. They didn’t deny it. They just laughed and kept flirting. It went on like this until Chloe canceled the reconstructive surgery I had been waiting two years for. She claimed she was just terrified the surgery would fail again. Liam nodded in agreement. “She’s just doing what’s best for you.” Just then, Liam’s phone lit up on the table. His mother, Eleanor, had messaged their family group chat: “Have Chloe accompany you to the family dinner this weekend. Seraphina isn’t really fit to be seen in public.” Last night, Liam had replied: “Okay.” In that split second, I finally understood. They forced me to “accept” this face in public, yet they were too embarrassed to let this face be seen by their own family. Without saying a word, I booked a consultation at a specialist clinic in Los Angeles. Seven years ago, I saved Liam. Seven years later, I finally decided to save myself.

The notification confirming my appointment popped up just as Liam walked out of the bathroom. He froze when he saw me holding his phone. “Did you see the messages?” I handed the phone back to him. The screen was still open to the chat with his mother. Liam took the phone. He didn’t even bother to explain why he had hidden the family dinner from me. He simply pulled out a tissue, leaned down, and gently wiped the water leaking from the corner of my mouth. “My mom has a lot of relatives over, and they don’t have filters,” he said softly. “If you go, they’ll just stare, and you’ll end up feeling miserable.” His touch was as gentle as always. But when his fingers brushed my right cheek, he instinctively avoided the most jagged part of the scar. I looked at him. “Then in what capacity is Chloe going?” Liam frowned slightly. “She’s just going to help me deal with my relatives. Don’t start drama with her.” Just then, the front door clicked open. Chloe walked in, clutching a stack of wedding planning folders. Hearing his last words, her eyes instantly welled with tears. “Sera, are you mad at me for taking your place?” She dropped the folders on the coffee table and knelt in front of me. “I don’t have to go to the dinner. But last time at the restaurant, you only took off your mask for ten minutes, and you couldn’t sleep the entire night. Liam’s mom is just worried you’ll get triggered again.” With that, she pulled a script from the folder. “Oh, by the way, I edited the opening voiceover for your wedding teaser video. The recording session is tomorrow afternoon. It’ll be a good chance for you to practice speaking.” Liam flipped through a couple of pages. “Aren’t these sentences a bit too long?” “That’s why I broke them down,” Chloe said, smiling at me. “Take your time, Sera. If you mess up, we can just record it as many times as we need.” The next afternoon, I sat in the recording booth. The last line of the script was: “We finally made it to today.” On the first try, I slurred the word “finally.” Chloe hit playback. My distorted, slurred voice blasted through the studio speakers. The audio engineer looked down to adjust his equipment, while his assistant cast a sneering glance at me. “Open your mouth wider,” Chloe instructed over the microphone. On the second try, the right side of my mouth pulled painfully, and I missed a syllable entirely. She played the failed take again. “Listen to yourself, Sera. It still sounds really bad.” Mortified, I told her to turn it off, but she only cranked up the volume. “If you’re too afraid to even listen to your own voice, how are you ever going to speak up when people ask you questions?” Liam finally pushed the door open and paused the playback. Chloe’s eyes reddened. “I’m just trying to help her.” Liam didn’t blame her. He handed me a glass of warm water and said softly, “Take five minutes. Then try one last time.” I stared at him. “Do you also think my voice is too embarrassing to be heard?” He avoided my gaze. “I’m busy, Sera. I just want to get this recorded and done with.” The last take was still a mess. The engineer gently suggested they just use subtitles for the bride’s part. Chloe picked up my script. “I’ll record a demo. Sera can take it home and practice.” She sat next to Liam. They read the lines back and forth, alternating sentences. She dragged out her words playfully. Liam tapped the desk, frowning. “Just speak normally.” “If you’re this mean, the bride is going to run away.” “You’re not the bride.” “Then why are you smiling?” Everyone outside the glass booth laughed. The engineer teased, “Your voices sound so good together. You guys sound like the actual married couple.” Chloe blushed and playfully shoved Liam. He dodged, but a smile lingered on his face. Soon, they finished the last line for me. “We finally made it to today.” When they played the final cut, Liam and Chloe’s voices blended seamlessly, alternating back and forth. It sounded like they were the ones who had walked hand-in-hand through the last seven years. I pulled off my headphones and spoke up for the first time: “Delete it.” Chloe’s smile froze. Liam checked his watch. “The wedding agency needs the video tonight. We’re using this version.” “Chloe spent the entire afternoon helping you and even stepped in to save the day.” “Seraphina, stop twisting her good intentions into something ugly.” On the way home, the final video was sent to our Snapchat group chat. The two of them shared a knowing, silent smile in the front seats. Just then, a notification from the Los Angeles hospital popped up on my phone. “We can hold your temporary bed for five days. Please confirm your admission.” I replied: “Confirmed.”

On Eleanor’s birthday, I ended up going to the Sterling estate anyway. Chloe sat in the passenger seat, turning around to smile at me. “Sera, I thought about it, and this is actually a great opportunity for your exposure therapy.” “Make sure you keep your mask off today!” When we arrived, there were over twenty relatives sitting in the living room. The moment the front door opened, all conversations died instantly. Every single pair of eyes landed heavily on my scarred right cheek. Chloe quickly linked her arm through mine. “Don’t worry, everyone. Sera has actually accepted her condition really well.” The moment she said that, a little boy ran to his mother, pointing at me and crying, “Her face is scary!” The mother quickly covered his mouth. “Kids say the darndest things, Sera. Please don’t take it to heart.” Though she apologized, she immediately pulled her child back two steps, away from me. Liam’s face darkened. “Make him apologize.” Eleanor tried to smooth things over. “He’s just a child, he doesn’t know any better. Today is my birthday, let’s not make everyone uncomfortable.” Chloe also tugged at Liam’s sleeve. “Forget it, Liam. Sera has to learn to face these things eventually.” Liam glanced at me, but ultimately let it go. At dinner, my seat was placed in a corner right next to the side door. Chloe sat directly next to Liam, helping him pour drinks and entertain the guests. I looked at her. “Why am I sitting all the way over here?” She quickly explained, “It’s quiet here. If you start feeling uncomfortable, you can slip out easily.” Liam pulled her behind him. “Chloe is sitting next to me to help out. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” I didn’t say another word. Halfway through the dinner, Aunt Claire suddenly asked, “Can Seraphina even eat normally with her mouth like that?” Before I could speak, Chloe answered for me. “She can’t chew anything hard, and water leaks when she drinks. But Liam is already used to taking care of her.” The table fell dead silent for a second. Aunt Claire looked at Liam, her voice filled with pity. “You’ve really had a tough time.” Another relative chipped in, “After an accident like that, a man with a conscience can’t just abandon her.” Liam frowned. “Sera got hurt saving my life.” Aunt Claire sighed. “That’s why you have to take responsibility for the rest of your life.” Chloe, wanting to break the heavy silence, playfully nudged Liam’s arm. “Did you hear that? You have to treat Sera right forever.” Liam pushed her hand away. “Just eat your food.” They bantered back and forth like a bickering couple, making the whole table laugh. Someone looked at them and joked, “Honestly, Chloe and Liam look like the actual couple.” Chloe blushed. “I’d never date him.” Liam smirked. “Mutual feeling.” They didn’t bother to correct anyone. I sat alone by the side door, completely shut out of their world. After dinner, Chloe played a birthday tribute video she had made for Eleanor. The car crash from seven years ago was only shown for a few seconds. There was no footage of me throwing myself in front of the truck. Instead, the screen showed Chloe staying by Liam’s side outside the operating room, bringing him food, and helping him home when he was drunk. Over the last seven years, she was in every single memory. She celebrated Eleanor’s birthdays, attended family dinners, and went to the hospital to visit me. I only appeared in a single, old group photo taken before the accident—standing at the very edge of the frame, my face still whole. When the video ended, Eleanor wiped her tears and squeezed Chloe’s hand. “All these years, you were the one who truly helped Liam get through it.” Chloe quickly looked at me. “Mrs. Sterling, Sera was the one who had it hardest.” But she never explained why my seven years had been reduced to a single photo. When we took a family photo, Eleanor pulled Chloe to stand next to Liam. I was pushed to the far right. When the photo was sent to the family group chat, Eleanor cropped it and set it as the group’s profile picture. In the cropped version, Liam and Chloe stood side-by-side. The entire right side, where I stood, was completely cut out. On the drive back, I asked Liam, “Did you see the new group chat photo?” “I was cropped out.” He stared at the road ahead, his voice sounding exhausted. “It’s just a crop, Sera. Don’t be so sensitive.” “Didn’t you say you hate people looking at your face?” I opened my mouth to say more, but he snapped, “Chloe goes out of her way to make you feel comfortable. Why are you always looking for faults in everything she does?” Chloe’s eyes welled up immediately. “It’s my fault. I’ll re-edit it.” Liam reached over and locked her phone. “No need.” He caught my eye in the rearview mirror. “Seraphina, today was my mom’s birthday. Did you really have to ruin it for everyone?” I didn’t reply. There was no place for me in the Sterling family photo. And soon, there wouldn’t be a place for me in their lives either.

Once we got home, Liam didn’t bring up the dinner again. He sat next to me, lightly touching the edge of my bandages. “After the wedding, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” I had waited years to hear those words. But now, they didn’t spark a single emotion in me. That afternoon, they dragged me to the chapel for a wedding rehearsal. The planner handed us vow cards. “Write down your vows separately. No peeking.” The prompt on the card was simple: Why did you choose your partner? By the time I wrote my first line, Liam was still staring at the blank card. Ten minutes passed, and he had only written one sentence: I will take care of Seraphina Vance for the rest of my life. Chloe walked over, glanced at it, and said, “You call that a vow?” Liam tossed the pen on the table. “I’m not good at this.” “Let me help you pull it together.” Chloe gestured toward the dressing room. They walked in, one after the other. I hadn’t planned on following them. But then the planner asked me to bring the ring box to Liam. As I reached the door, I heard Chloe ask inside: “Why didn’t you write that you love her?” Silence fell for a few seconds. Liam finally spoke: “Of course I love her.” “But if she hadn’t saved you, if her face hadn’t been ruined, would you still marry her?” This time, the silence stretched even longer. “Liam, every time you look at her, the first thing you think of is that accident.” “You apply her ointment, you feed her, you promised to marry her.” “But you haven’t kissed the right side of her face in seven years.” My fingers clenched around the ring box so hard it dug into my palm. Liam’s voice was heavy. “Stop it, Chloe.” Chloe choked back a sob. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t force you to say these things. But it breaks my heart to see you like this.” “Only with me can you stop being the guy who eternally owes Sera.” Through the crack in the door, I saw Chloe holding his hand. Liam stared down at it and didn’t pull away. I handed the ring box to a passing staff member and walked back into the chapel. When the rehearsal started, Liam stood opposite me, reciting his revised vows. “Sera, thank you for bearing everything for me.” “For the rest of my life, it’s my turn to take care of you.” Applause echoed through the chapel. But I only heard two words: Thank you. The entire vow didn’t contain a single mention of love. I looked at him. “Liam.” “Are you marrying me because you love me, or because my face was ruined for you?” The room fell dead silent. Liam’s expression hardened. “I promised to take care of you forever. Isn’t that enough?” I smiled faintly. “I don’t need it anymore.” Chloe suddenly stood up. “It’s all my fault.” She ripped off her bridesmaid corsage, tears streaming down her face. “I shouldn’t have changed his vows, and I shouldn’t be at your wedding.” “I’ll leave. Is that what you want?” She turned and ran out of the chapel. Liam took two steps to chase her, then turned back to me. “You eavesdropped on us and humiliated her in front of everyone.” “Seraphina, just because I owe you doesn’t mean everyone has to yield to you forever.” He ran after Chloe, and the heavy chapel doors slammed shut in front of me. The speakers continued to mock me, looping his recorded vows: “For the rest of my life, it’s my turn to take care of you…”

As I reached my doorstep, the hospital in Los Angeles called. “There’s one thing we need to clarify, Ms. Vance.” “When a Ms. Bennett called us to cancel your surgery last week, we noticed she wasn’t the patient. So we called Mr. Liam Sterling to confirm.” My hand froze on the doorknob. “What did he say?” “Mr. Sterling confirmed that you both had discussed it and decided to cancel.” “We explicitly told him that while we couldn’t guarantee your face would look the same, it would fix your mouth closure and eating difficulties.” “But he still agreed to cancel.” I hung up, standing outside the door for a long time. When I pushed it open, Chloe was sitting on the sofa crying, and Liam was holding my iPad. The leaked video on TikTok had blown up. At first, comments mocked my face. But then, my coworkers recognized me. Someone leaked the truth of the accident, and someone else posted what really happened at the restaurant. Chloe’s excuse of “exposure therapy” completely fell apart. The backlash was massive. People were defending me, and Chloe’s personal accounts were doxed. Her company had received countless complaints and suspended her pending investigation. Liam saw me and thrust the iPad into my hands. “You’re back. Good.” On screen was a drafted apology and clarification statement. Liam sounded incredibly frustrated. “Chloe was only doing what was best for you. She shouldn’t lose her job over a silly video.” Chloe shook her head. “No, Liam. Sera has suffered so much. I can’t force her anymore.” Liam set his phone on the coffee table and started recording. “Sera, just read this statement.” I turned to walk to my bedroom. Liam grabbed my wrist. “Chloe’s investigation is tomorrow. She doesn’t have time to wait.” I tried to shake him off. “She brought this on herself!” His grip tightened, dragging me back in front of the camera. My hip slammed against the edge of the coffee table, sending a sharp, blinding pain through my body. Chloe rushed over to stop him. “Liam, don’t.” “Get out,” Liam barked. “But Sera—” “Get out!” Once the door slammed, Liam hit record again. “Read it.” I stared at the black mask covering my face and kept my mouth shut. He frowned. “Take it off.” “How is anyone going to believe you’re doing exposure therapy if you’re wearing a mask?” He reached out to rip it off. I held onto the straps, my voice breaking. “Liam, don’t touch me!” He hesitated for a fraction of a second, his voice softening. “Sera, it’ll take one minute.” Tears streaming down my face, I reached out to stop the recording. But Liam pinned my shoulders from behind and ripped the mask off my face with his other hand. The straps dragged violently across the raw skin of my right cheek. The freshly scabbed corner of my mouth tore instantly. Blood trickled down my scar, dripping onto the printed statement. I shook with pain. Liam’s face went pale. He let go immediately. “Sera, I didn’t mean to.” He scrambled to find the first-aid kit. But the phone was still recording. In the lens, I was covered in blood, looking even more pathetic than in Chloe’s leaked video. Liam returned with gauze, trying to press it to my wound. I stepped back. “If it were Chloe who was being attacked online, would you hold her down and force her to clear my name?” He remained silent for a long time. “She isn’t as strong as you, Sera.” “You’ve survived so much. Just help her this once.” I looked at the gauze in his hand and laughed. “Okay.” Liam finally let out a sigh of relief. “Rest up. I’ll drop Chloe off and come back to help you re-record.” The moment they left, I packed my bags and headed straight for the airport. On the way, my phone kept buzzing with his texts. “Did you dress the wound?” “We need to finish the video tonight.” “Chloe won’t stop crying. Don’t trigger her anymore.” I turned off my phone. Seven years ago, I threw myself in front of a truck for Liam. Seven years later, he tore my wounds open to shield Chloe from her own mess. This time, I was done protecting them.

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The day before my college graduation, my girlfriend of four years suddenly broke up with me. She left me a mansion, a brand-new Bentley, and eighteen million dollars in my bank account. She said it was compensation for the last four years. But the very next day, I saw her standing on an engagement stage, holding another man’s arm. I rushed into the venue to demand answers, but she just sneered at me in front of everyone. “Dating is dating, Ethan. Marriage is different. A guy like you doesn’t belong in my world.” She had no idea. I had come today to tell her the truth. I wasn’t some poor scholarship student. I was the sole heir to the Vance family—the most powerful dynasty in New York. I had even prepared to give her ten percent of our hundred-billion-dollar empire as a proposal gift. But now… She didn’t even deserve to know the truth anymore. My girlfriend got engaged today. But the groom wasn’t me. When I rushed into the engagement hall, the first thing I saw was Serena Sinclair standing on the stage. She looked stunning in her custom designer gown and millions of dollars’ worth of diamonds. She was elegant, beautiful, and completely out of place. Because the man standing next to her was barely five-foot-three. He was incredibly obese, and his face was covered in greasy, angry red acne that looked ready to pop at any second. My girl was marrying a guy like that? Looking at her, last night felt like a lifetime ago. Yesterday, when I came back to our place after my internship, Serena had pinned me to the bed the moment I walked through the door. She kissed me hungrily, her voice raspy as she whispered in my ear, “Don’t hold back tonight, baby.” It felt like she wanted to consume me entirely. But when I woke up this morning, she was gone. Her phone number was disconnected. Her Snapchat and Instagram accounts were completely deleted. She vanished from my life overnight, leaving me completely blindsided. Then, her lawyer knocked on my door. It was noon when he arrived. The lawyer told me Serena had specifically instructed him not to come any earlier because she didn’t want to disturb my sleep. Then, he handed me a stack of legal documents. I stared at them, completely lost. It was a deed of gift. Serena had transferred the ownership of our luxury villa, the Bentley, and eighteen million dollars to my name. It was a “thank you” gift for being her boyfriend during college. So, she dumped me out of nowhere and paid me off like some high-end gigolo? But I didn’t need her money. I had told Serena that before. But she had just laughed and said with absolute confidence, “No matter how rich you think you are, Ethan, you’ll never be richer than me.” I hadn’t argued back. I loved her too much to care about who had more money. But why the sudden breakup? She was so passionate last night. She spent the entire night holding me and telling me she loved me. How could she just throw us away? I forced myself to calm down. I made one call to my family’s private security team, and within ten minutes, I had the whole story. That was how I ended up at this engagement party. I could see the misery in Serena’s eyes. Was she being forced into this? “Kiss her!” Someone in the crowd yelled. The greaseball beside her reached out to grab Serena’s hand. Serena flinched, instinctively stepping back to avoid his touch. The man’s face darkened. His thick, wet lips curled as he spat, “Did you already forget what you promised me, Serena?” Serena’s face went pale. Slowly, she took a step back toward him. She was definitely being blackmailed! I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed through the crowd and shouted, “Serena! If you’re in trouble, tell me! Don’t do this to yourself!” Every eye in the room instantly locked onto me. When Serena saw me, a flash of pure joy crossed her eyes, but it was instantly replaced by a wall of cold ice. “Who the hell is this loser?” The groom glared at me. “You call my fiancée by her first name so casually, huh?” I opened my mouth to reveal who I was, but Serena cut me off. She pinched her brows and said coldly, “He’s just a simp who used to follow me around. Have security throw him out. Don’t let him ruin our day.”

A simp? I could feel the wave of mockery and disgust washing over the room. Of course. Nobody respects a pathetic simp. But I wasn’t one. Serena and I met during a college club event. I had just finished a brutal basketball game and was starving. I sneaked some chips from my roommate’s stash. My roommate caught me and teased me, saying, “Bro, call me your king and I’ll let you live.” It was just typical guy banter, so I laughed and said, “Yes, my king.” But Serena had witnessed it. She stood up for me, lecturing my roommate about not bullying poor students, while also telling me I shouldn’t steal food. She was always like that—fiercely independent, righteous, and always fighting for the underdog. After that, I played along. I pretended to be a poor, struggling student to get close to her. It didn’t take long for us to fall in love. Soon, the whole campus knew I was her “toy boy.” People gossiped that she was keeping a pretty boy. Fearing she would lose face, I told her once that my family was actually insanely wealthy. But she just laughed it off, thinking I was trying to save my pride. For four years, we didn’t have a dramatic, toxic relationship. We were just deeply, quietly in love. We barely even argued. That was why I couldn’t accept this sudden end. I needed to know the truth. Ignoring the whispers, I took a step toward the stage. Before I could say another word, the groom blocked my path. He was so short that he had to crane his neck to look at me. I had to look straight down to meet his greasy eyes. “You actually dared to walk up here, you piece of trash?” He raised his hand, aiming a slap at my face. I stepped back easily, dodging it. I ignored him and kept my eyes on Serena. “You dumped me for… this?” “What nonsense are you talking about?” Serena stepped forward and slapped me across the face. I had dodged the groom’s slap. But I didn’t dodge hers. She was wearing high heels, and I was afraid that if I moved, she would lose her balance and fall. Even when she was throwing me away, I was still worrying about her safety. I really was pathetic. I touched my stinging cheek, my heart aching. “So you’re the charity case she kept in college?” The groom sneered, stepping up beside her. “A kept man trying to play hero? Do you even know who I am? I’m Giles Montgomery. My family owns San Francisco!” I didn’t even look at Giles. I kept my eyes on Serena. “Leaving without a word… that’s not fair to me, Serena.” “Fair?” “I gave you the mansion. I gave you the car. I gave you eighteen million dollars. What more do you want?” “Stop embarrassing yourself, Ethan. We’re over!” Serena stared at me, her eyes cold. “You know how families like mine work. Love and marriage are separate. Thank you for the last four years, but only a man like Giles is fit to be my husband. Understand?” “Just tell me one thing,” I said, staring into her eyes. “Did you ever love me?” I knew all about arranged marriages. My parents’ marriage was arranged, too. But they were lucky—they grew up together as childhood sweethearts. As for me… I was supposed to have an arranged marriage eventually, too. But my family’s status in New York was so high that we didn’t need a political alliance to secure our power. If I wanted to marry for love, no one could stop me. “Love?” Serena laughed, a sound completely devoid of warmth. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ethan. I knew I was a pawn for my family since I was a kid. I don’t believe in love.” “I only dated you because you were good-looking, poor, and easy to control.” “Now you have your answer. Get out.”

So, the four years of warmth and love were just a delusion of mine. To Serena Sinclair, I was just a handsome, obedient puppy she could show off and control. How hilarious. I nodded slowly. If that was how she felt, then so be it. My chest burned with pain, but I wasn’t the type to beg. I came here to fight for her. But if there was nothing left to fight for, I would walk away. I looked at her and forced a small smile. “Fine. I hope you have a great life.” I turned to leave the stage. Serena’s fists clenched tightly, and she looked away, unable to meet my eyes. But Giles blocked my path again, a nasty grin on his face. “Since you’re already here, you’re staying for the show. Otherwise, you’re disrespecting me. And disrespecting the Montgomery family means disrespecting the entire city of San Francisco!” “Quite a big talker, aren’t you?” I chuckled. I had heard similar threats before. New York was a massive city, and not everyone recognized my face. Occasionally, some arrogant idiot would try to flex on me. But after I broke a few of them, nobody dared to speak to me like that anymore. Giles didn’t catch the mockery in my voice. He clapped his hands. Instantly, a dozen men in black suits emerged from the shadows, surrounding the stage. “Kid, if I’m not happy today, you aren’t leaving this building alive,” Giles threatened. Serena panicked. She rushed over and glared at me. “Get the hell out of here! I don’t ever want to see your face again!” “Did I give you permission to speak?” Giles snapped at her. “Do you think I’m blind? You’re obviously trying to protect this loser.” Protecting me? I looked deeply into Serena’s eyes and saw the sheer terror hiding behind her cold facade. So, her cruel words earlier… were they just a lie to push me away? Serena shook her head quickly. “I just don’t want my past dragging me down. Today is our engagement party. Having my ex here is humiliating. How would it look to your family?” She softened her voice, playing to his ego. “Giles, I’m doing this for your reputation.” Giles’s expression softened slightly, but his arrogance remained. “I don’t care about reputation. In San Francisco, I am God.” He pointed a finger at me. “Go sit in the corner and watch us.” I nodded, giving Serena a knowing smile, and walked down the steps. The moment I reached the floor, four bodyguards surrounded me. They escorted me to a table in the far corner. They wanted to make sure I couldn’t run. From the stage, Giles called out, “Watch closely, kid. You don’t leave until I say so.” “Don’t worry,” I replied smoothly, leaning back. “Once I settle in, you might have a hard time getting me to leave.” “Shut up, Ethan!” Serena yelled, her voice trembling. I smiled and remained silent. If they wanted to play games, they would have to play by my rules now. Giles sneered. “I heard you’re from New York? Perfect. Some real VIPs from New York are arriving later. True elite royalty. I’ll introduce you so you can finally see how the real world operates.” “I appreciate the charity,” I said, barely holding back my laughter. Soon, a group of wealthy-looking young guys walked over to my table. They had “arrogant trust-fund kids” written all over them. No doubt, Giles’s friends. “Man, you really have a death wish, don’t you?” “Did you honestly think Serena could protect you?” “To be honest, even if you hadn’t showed up today, Giles wouldn’t have let you live. You think he’d let the guy who slept with his fiancée for four years walk free?”

“Hey, I’ve got my phone here. Want me to call 911 for you?” The group burst into cruel laughter. I kept my head down, scrolling through my phone, too bored to reply. But one thing was certain now. Serena was definitely trying to protect me. The official ceremony ended quickly. Next was the reception—the networking phase where guests drank and mingled. Giles led Serena from table to table, soaking in the flattery of the guests. I had taken a quick look at the Montgomery family’s background on my phone. “Richest family in San Francisco” was technically true, but they had zero class. They were classic new money. Their rise to power was solely because of their connections in New York. They managed to secure some massive federal contracts, which skyrocketed their wealth. But they had never been accepted into the actual high society of San Francisco. The guests here were either their parasites or connections of the Sinclair family. The Sinclair family, on the other hand, was an old-money family that had fallen on hard times. This marriage was a simple transaction. The Montgomerys wanted social status—marrying a Sinclair daughter was their ticket into the elite circle. The Sinclairs wanted money to save their dying business. I had seen this kind of transaction a thousand times growing up. It was practically a business formula. While I was lost in thought, a girl of about sixteen or seventeen sat down beside me. She was pretty, with a bit of cute baby fat on her cheeks. Her eyes looked almost identical to Serena’s. “I’m Sienna Sinclair. Your ex’s little sister.” “Don’t say a word. Just follow me,” she said. Her voice was cold, contrasting with her cute face. She grabbed my hand to pull me up. But I didn’t budge. “Did your sister send you?” “What do you think?” Sienna frowned. “Hurry up, or you’re dead!” Before we could move, the four bodyguards in black suits stepped closer, blocking our path. Sienna let out a heavy sigh, releasing my hand. She sat back down, realizing it was too late. “You shouldn’t have come,” she whispered, staring at the floor. “If it weren’t for you, my sister wouldn’t have agreed to marry that disgusting greaseball.” Because of me? I opened my mouth to ask her what she meant, but a sudden commotion at the entrance cut me off. Giles and Serena immediately hurried toward the doors, gesturing for everyone in the room to stand up. A group of seven or eight young people walked into the hall. They were young, but they carried themselves with the quiet, effortless confidence of true power. Especially the leader. He was barely in his early twenties, but he commanded the entire room. “Logan! You finally made it! The party wouldn’t be complete without you.” Giles rushed forward, his hand extended for a handshake. Logan Sterling didn’t even look at Giles’s hand. In fact, he ignored him completely. His eyes swept the room until they landed on Serena. “Are you Serena Sinclair?” Logan asked. Serena blinked, startled. “Yes.” Logan’s cold demeanor softened into a polite smile. “Ethan kept you well hidden. Otherwise, we should have met a long time ago.” Giles assumed “Ethan” was some mistake, or perhaps Logan was talking about someone else. He quickly turned to the crowd, eager to show off. “Everyone! This is Logan Sterling from New York. A true heir of the Sterling empire. And the Sterling family is the biggest supporter of my family’s business!”

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The day before our engagement party, they voted me out. Ethan had created a group chat. The name? [Who Should Ethan Marry]. I was Option A: Clara, the girl who had been by his side for fifteen years. The other was Option B: Lily, his first love who had been waiting for him for ten years. When the voting ended, Lily won by a landslide. Everyone in that group was someone I knew. His sister, Audrey, said: “Clara is thirty. Her biological clock is ticking, and her fertility is probably tanking.” His best friend said: “She’s just a girl with no family. She doesn’t belong in the Vance family.” Even my own best friend, Chloe, cast her vote for Lily. She wrote: “Clara is too stubborn. A little loss will do her some good.” And that day, I was sitting in a restaurant in my evening gown, foolishly waiting for Ethan to propose. Until I scrolled past a video of a wedding in Cabo. On the screen, Ethan was kissing his bride, Lily. It turned out my fifteen years of devotion was nothing but a betting game at their dinner table. They chose his bride for him. And in the process, they voted me—his fiancée of fifteen years—completely out of his life.

My fingers shook. I could barely hold my iPad. My chest tightened, and cold sweat broke out across my back. My phone buzzed. An email notification popped up. [Your resignation has been successfully submitted.] I stared at the words, running my fingers through my hair in frustration. I had sent that application at noon today. At the time, a bouquet of flowers from Ethan was sitting right next to my hand. Actually, he had been trying to persuade me to quit for years. He said his company had just gone public and he needed someone he could trust. He said no matter how hard I worked at my current job, I was just making someone else rich. My best friend Chloe had pressured me too. “Clara, you don’t have parents. Ethan is the only family you have left.” “You’re lucky to have him. Don’t take it for granted.” Even Ethan’s sister, Audrey, had smiled and patted my hand: “You’re going to be a Vance sooner or later. Working for the family business is safer than staying outside.” But I had always hesitated. My job was my security. I couldn’t put all my eggs in one basket. But this afternoon, Ethan called me. “On your thirtieth birthday, I’m going to make things right between us.” “I really need you by my side. My future only makes sense with you.” I believed him. So I submitted my resignation. I threw away seven years of hard work, a year-end promotion, and my only safety net. And now, the group chat on my iPad was flooded with photos of Ethan’s wedding. They had chosen his wife, and they had decided my fate. I bent over, dry-heaving, a metallic taste of bile rising in my throat. Just then, I saw Chloe post in the group chat. “I’ve kept Clara distracted. She’s probably still waiting for her ‘surprise’ at the restaurant.” Someone replied. “Getting dumped on her birthday? Do you think she’ll do something crazy?” Audrey posted a laughing emoji. “She’ll throw a tantrum for a couple of days at most. Once Ethan sweet-talks her and gives her a job at his company, she’ll crawl right back.” Staring at the screen, I couldn’t take it anymore. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up. I hadn’t eaten anything all day, saving my appetite for the birthday dinner. My stomach was completely empty. I threw up nothing but stomach acid, burning my throat. Gripping the sink, my tears mixed with cold sweat as they dripped down. The woman in the mirror was pale. Her lipstick was smudged, and her carefully curled hair was a messy ruin. Looking at my reflection, I suddenly felt like a stranger. Did Clara, at thirty years old, really lose everything? My screen lit up with an incoming call from Ethan. Looking at his name, a suffocating darkness pressed down on me. Just before the call timed out, I picked up. “Clara, I’m so sorry. An overseas project came up last minute, and my phone died. You’re not mad, right?” My voice was hoarse. “No.” He let out a low chuckle. “I remember that necklace you liked last time.” “I’ll buy it for you as soon as I get back from this business trip.” I used to melt when he talked to me like this. But now, his voice overlapped with the image of him kissing Lily in that wedding video. My stomach churned, and I dug my fingernails deep into my palms. “Did you submit your resignation?” he asked. “Don’t worry. Come to my company. I’ll take care of you.” I clenched my teeth, forcing my voice to sound steady. “I submitted it.” He let out a sigh of relief on the other end. “Good girl. I’ve got you.” Just as he finished speaking, a female voice drifted over from the background. “Ethan, the photographer says we need to retake the shots in the red dress.” It was soft, sweet. I slowly crouched down, wrapping my arms around my shaking body. Ethan lowered his voice. “Babe, I have to run. I have some work to finish. I’ll call you later, okay?” I heard myself say, “Okay.” After the line went dead, the only sound in the room was the rain outside. Sitting on the floor, I saved the chat logs, the poll, and the screenshots of the wedding video. Then, I dialed my director’s number. “Mr. Bennett, is it too late to withdraw my resignation?” I stared at the group chat that didn’t include me. My voice shook, but I forced out every single word. “Also, about the relocation project you mentioned last time.” “I’ll take it.”

I didn’t sleep at all that night. I went through my phone, deleting every single photo related to them. Fifteen years of memories took only a few hours to wipe clean. By the end, my camera roll was practically empty. I stared at the blank screen for a long time before getting up to pack my things. So much of what I owned was tied to them. And so much of it should have been thrown away a long time ago. I opened my closet to pack my suitcase. My fingers paused instinctively on a gray scarf. When I was fourteen, my parents passed away. None of my relatives wanted to take me in. I had sat on the steps, crying until I couldn’t breathe. Ethan had knelt in front of me, wrapping this very scarf around my neck. He had said, “Clara, from now on, my home is your home.” After that, he spent every single birthday with me. At eighteen, he baked me a small cake himself. At twenty-two, we celebrated over sushi. At twenty-six, when his startup failed, he held me close and promised that when he made it, he would give me the grandest thirtieth birthday imaginable. But on my thirtieth birthday, he was in Cabo, giving that grand moment to another woman. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Ethan stood at the front of the group, holding a cake and a bouquet of white roses. Chloe peeked out from behind him, smiling as if nothing had happened. “Clara! Surprise! I went to the next town with my family yesterday and got you these scented candles.” Audrey handed me a gift box as well. “You’ve been so busy lately that you forgot your own birthday. Here’s a little something.” A few mutual friends squeezed into the apartment, tossing balloons and confetti around the living room. “Why the long face, birthday girl? We’re here to celebrate!” Looking at the crowd in front of me, their faces suddenly overlapped with the video from last night. They were talking, but I couldn’t hear a word. Only the comments from the group chat echoed in my ears. “She’ll throw a tantrum for a couple of days at most.” “Once Ethan sweet-talks her, she’ll crawl right back.” Ethan opened a velvet jewelry box. Inside lay a diamond necklace. He stepped forward to put it on me, his fingers brushing against the back of my neck just like they always did. “Babe, I was really too busy yesterday.” “Don’t be mad anymore. Come work at my company, and we can be together every day.” As the cold metal touched my skin, I felt suffocated. I ripped it off and tossed it back into the box. Chloe’s smile froze. “Clara, that’s enough. Everyone came all this way to make it up to you. Why are you acting like this?” Audrey sighed. “You’re thirty years old. Stop throwing childish tantrums.” I looked up at them, my throat burning. “Are you done putting on a show?” The living room fell dead silent. I asked, word by word, “Was the wedding in Cabo beautiful?” Chloe’s face drained of color, but she quickly frowned. “Since you already know, why didn’t you just ask? Did you have to be so passive-aggressive and make things awkward for everyone?” Another friend chimed in. “Lily has been waiting for Ethan for ten years. It hasn’t been easy for her either.” “So what if you’ve been with him for fifteen years? Love isn’t a ticket queue where you wait for your turn.” I wanted to laugh, but my lips were trembling too violently. Ethan reached out to grab my hand. “Clara, stop acting out.” “Lily and I only had a ceremony. We didn’t sign any legal papers.” My head snapped up. I saw exhaustion in his eyes, but also absolute certainty. “I promised I’d give you a commitment when you turned thirty. I didn’t forget.” “If you want, we can go register our marriage tomorrow.” “She wanted the wedding, but you get the marriage. I gave her the ceremony, and I’m giving you the legal papers. That way, nobody loses.” My ears rang. A surge of pure rage erupted in my chest. The sheer absurdity of it almost made me laugh out loud. Ethan softened his voice. “Clara, you don’t have a family. That’s why I can’t leave you.” “You’ve already quit your job. Who’s going to spend your birthdays with you? Who’s going to pick you up from work? Who’s going to take care of you when you’re sick?” His voice was gentle. But every word was a calculated reminder that I had absolutely nothing. I looked at the room full of balloons, the gifts, and the cold necklace. My eyes stung, but I refused to let the tears fall. I took a slow step back, dodging Ethan’s outstretched hand. He frowned. “Clara?” I looked at him, my voice barely a whisper. “You’re right.” “It’s time I find myself a real home.”

Without another look at Ethan, I walked past the balloons and gifts, heading straight for the door. Chloe rushed after me and grabbed my arm. “Clara, where are you going?” “Everyone rushed back from Cabo without even eating just to throw you a party. What more do you want?” Her nails dug into my wrist, leaving a sharp, burning pain. I shook her off and pushed the door open. As the door clicked shut, I heard someone mutter inside. “It was just a ceremony. Does she really need to throw such a fit?” The elevator plummeted. In the reflection of the metal doors, my face was ghostly pale, with a red mark on my neck from where I had ripped the necklace off. I blocked Ethan, Chloe, and all our mutual friends on Snapchat. When I reached the office, the receptionist looked at me in surprise. “Clara? Didn’t you take today off?” I replied, “Just sorting out a few things.” I walked straight into Mr. Bennett’s office. He pushed the relocation agreement toward me. “The San Francisco project is urgent. If you sign this, you leave next week.” I gripped the pen, my fingers still trembling. As I finished signing my name, the pen tip ripped a tiny tear in the paper. Staring at the tear, I finally let out a breath. That afternoon, I began handing over my responsibilities. My phone kept buzzing in my bag. I ignored it. Eventually, my assistant, Mia, walked in with a cup of coffee. She stood frozen at the door. “Clara… have you seen what’s online?” She handed me her phone. On the screen was a new video from the influencer who had posted the Cabo wedding. [The Dream Wedding Update: The Groom’s Toxic Ex of 15 Years Drives the Bride to Tears.] In the video, Lily was wearing her wedding gown, her eyes red as she snuggled into Ethan’s chest. The voiceover sounded furious. “Word has it that the groom took care of his family-less ex out of sheer charity.” “But she refused to let go for years, even going as far as to harass them after their wedding.” The comment section was flooded. “Just because you don’t have parents doesn’t mean you can steal someone else’s husband.” “That woman is pure evil.” My fingers felt too cold to scroll. Below that, Chloe had reposted it on Instagram. “I’ve known her for years. All I can say is, some people really take other people’s kindness for granted.” Audrey had posted too. “My brother is too soft-hearted, which is why he let this drag on for so long. I hope a certain someone finally lets go of two people who are truly in love.” My stomach violently spasmed. I ran into the restroom, gripping the sink as I dry-heaved. In the mirror, my eyes were bloodshot, and my lips had lost all color. Outside, I could hear whispering. “That’s Clara, right?” “She looks so normal. How could she harass someone for fifteen years?” I turned on the faucet, letting the rushing water drown out their voices. But every single word still pierced my ears. After collecting myself, I went back to the conference room to continue the handover. But by the third page, my voice gave out completely. Mia handed me some water. The glass clicked against my teeth. I took a sip and kept going. I couldn’t stop. After the meeting, Mr. Bennett called me into his office. A few anonymous emails were open on his desk. “Clara, the San Francisco team received a complaint.” “Someone claims you are emotionally unstable and involved in personal drama, making you unfit for relocation.” I stood there, the cold seeping into my bones. My phone lit up with a text from an unknown number. “Clara, stop fighting it.” “See? Without me, you have nothing.”

When I walked out of his office, my legs were so weak I nearly crashed into the glass door. I could always find another job. But my ID, contracts, and the old metal box left by my parents were still at the house I shared with Ethan. I had to get them. When the elevator doors opened at the apartment, I heard the sound of cardboard boxes scraping against the floor. The living room was crowded. Chloe, Audrey, and Lily—who was wearing a white dress—were all there. The movers were shoving my clothes into black trash bags. Chloe was holding my gray scarf with disgust. My voice sounded horribly hoarse. “Who gave you permission to touch my things?” Lily turned around, her eyes instantly welling with tears. “Clara, please don’t misunderstand. Ethan said you’ve been unstable lately, so I just wanted to help you pack.” She stroked the back of the sofa. “I’m going to be living here now. We can’t keep your old things around forever.” A heavy blow struck my chest. Every lamp, every cup in this apartment had been carefully chosen by Ethan and me. I used to think this was my home. It turned out I had just overstayed my welcome, forgetting that the landlord could kick me out at any moment. Chloe scoffed, tossing the scarf into a box. “Clara, did you really think this was your house?” “Did you actually think we were your family?” Those words crashed down on me, turning my world black for a second. When I was fourteen, standing in front of my parents’ graves, it had felt exactly this cold. Then Ethan came along, and I thought I wasn’t alone anymore. I gripped the shoe cabinet, my nails digging into the wood. “Put my things down.” Nobody listened. Audrey frowned. “Clara, stop throwing a fit. Lily was kind enough to help you pack. You should be grateful.” Lily suddenly pulled an old metal box out of a drawer. “Do you want this too?” My pupils dilated. I lunged forward. “Don’t touch that!” Inside were my parents’ photos, my birth certificate, and the last birthday card my mother had ever written to me. Chloe stepped in front of me, sneering. “They’ve been dead for years. Why keep this depressing junk?” During the scuffle, the metal box knocked loose and slammed onto the floor. Photos scattered everywhere. Someone’s shoe stepped right on my mother’s face. A loud buzzing filled my ears. I shoved Chloe aside and fell to my knees to gather them. Lily let out a soft gasp, intentionally falling backward against the glass coffee table. A piece of glass sliced her arm. Hurried footsteps echoed at the door. Ethan rushed in, his eyes immediately landing on her bleeding arm. “Lily!” He scooped her up, his voice trembling. “Does it hurt?” Kneeling amidst the broken glass and scattered photos, my own fingers were bleeding. A drop of blood dripped onto the photo of my parents. I looked up at him. “They’re throwing my things away.” Ethan glanced at me, his eyes filled with nothing but disappointment. “They’re just helping you move.” “Clara, why do you have to push everyone to their limits?” My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Lily clung to him, sobbing. “Ethan, it’s fine. It’s only natural for Clara to hate me.” Ethan held her tighter and turned to me. “The drama online is getting out of hand. You need to post a statement.” “Tell everyone that you and I broke up a long time ago, and that you lost control of your emotions and misunderstood Lily.” Suddenly, I laughed. I laughed so hard my chest ached. “You want me to publicly lie and say I’m the toxic ex who’s been harassing you?” He went silent for a moment. “Just for now.” I gathered the photos one by one and put them back in the box. My hands were numb with pain, but my chest felt completely hollow. “Okay.” Everyone froze. I stood up, cradling the metal box. “I’ll move.” “And I don’t want you anymore.” A torrential rain was pouring outside. The movers piled my boxes on the curb. The metal box on top wasn’t fully closed, and the wind blew it open. Our family photo rolled out, drifting toward the street. I rushed to grab it. Ethan stepped forward to help. But behind him, Lily suddenly wailed, “Ethan, my arm hurts so much!” Ethan paused mid-step. It was just a split-second pause. But in that moment, I wondered if it would have been better if my fourteen-year-old self had never met him. Blinding headlights pierced through the heavy rain. The screech of brakes ripped through the street. Clutching the soaked family photo, my body was violently thrown into the air. In the darkness, I thought I heard Ethan’s agonizing scream. “Clara!”

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My colleague, Audrey, waddled up to me, clutching her pregnant belly. “Chloe, can I crash at your place near the office for a few months? My commute from the suburbs is killing me with this pregnancy. I can’t take it anymore. I promise I’ll move out as soon as the baby is born.” I was just about to nod when a line of glowing text suddenly floated right in front of my eyes. [Don’t agree.] The next second, a flood of floating comments started scrolling across my vision. [The fetus in her womb has had no heartbeat for three days.] [The baby belongs to your boyfriend, Julian.] [Tonight, Audrey will ‘fall’ in your house. She’ll cry and claim that you found out the truth, went crazy with jealousy, and pushed her.] [At the exact same time, your home network will leak the secret bidding price for the company’s biggest project.] [You’ll be suspended, dragged on social media, held legally liable by the company, and branded by everyone as a monster who killed a pregnant woman’s baby and leaked trade secrets.] My blood ran ice-cold. Audrey was still waiting for my answer. I looked down at her slightly swollen belly. Then, I snapped my laptop shut. “Sorry, Audrey. I don’t rent out or lend my apartment.” 1 The conference room went dead silent. Audrey’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “Did I make things difficult for you? I’m so sorry. I just thought if I lived closer, it would be easier for me to pull late nights and revise the project drafts.” Mark, the product manager sitting next to me, whispered, “Come on, Chloe, your apartment usually sits empty anyway.” Another colleague chimed in: “Yeah, it’s just for a few months. Audrey’s working so hard despite being pregnant. It’s not easy for her.” Ethan, our boss sitting at the head of the table, tapped his fingers against the desk. “Chloe, this project is in a critical phase. Supporting each other within the team is a good thing.” I looked up at him. “Ethan, if this involves an employee staying in another’s private residence, do we need to file a formal compliance report with HR?” Ethan frowned. “There’s no need to make it so complicated.” “Then it’s even more inappropriate.” I capped my pen. “My apartment is my private property, not a company resource. If Audrey needs to rent a place, she can apply for the company’s housing subsidy according to policy, and I’ll gladly sign off on it.” Audrey bit her lip, tears trembling on her eyelashes. “But finding a place on such short notice is so hard, and anything close to the office is way too expensive. Chloe, we’ve pulled so many all-nighters together. I thought we were friends.” As soon as she said that, the atmosphere in the room turned even more hostile. I didn’t let her emotions drag me in. “Even friends need boundaries.” Someone muttered under their breath, “So cold-hearted.” “She’s probably just afraid Audrey will take credit for the project.” “Being pregnant isn’t a crime. Why is she being so paranoid?” The floating comments scrolled past again. [She is gaslighting you and turning everyone against you.] [Don’t explain. The more you explain, the guiltier you’ll look.] [Julian will call you in ten minutes.] Less than ten minutes after the meeting adjourned, my phone buzzed. “Chloe, babe, I heard you turned Audrey down today?” I stood in the stairwell, looking out at the gray sky through the window. “You get news fast.” He chuckled on the other end of the line. “A lot of people in our two companies are old college classmates. They’re gossiping in the group chats. Don’t take it the wrong way, babe, I’m just worried people will misunderstand you.” “So?” “She’s pregnant. There’s no need to ruin your relationship with a colleague. It’s just a temporary stay. You can always make her sign an agreement.” The comments floated past coldly. [Look how sweet he sounds.] [He even remembers your spare keyless entry code.] [Just last week, he sent photos of your living room to Audrey.] My hand tightened around the phone. “Julian, do you even know Audrey?” There was a brief pause on the other line. “I’ve heard her name. We’re not close.” I let out a soft laugh. “Not close, huh?” “Of course. Chloe, are you just too tired lately? Don’t overthink people.” I hung up. I didn’t confront him. The comments were right. Exposing them now would only warn them to change their tactics. I went back to my desk and sent a WhatsApp message to Harper, our legal counsel. “Are you free tonight? I need help preserving some evidence.” She replied instantly. “What’s wrong?” I glanced over at Audrey, who was sitting not far away, wiping her tears. “Someone wants to borrow my apartment.” “And take my life while they’re at it.” 2 After work, I went straight to that apartment. Behind the front door, there was a very faint pencil mark. Next to it, written in shaky handwriting: “Chloe, twenty years old. Remember to come home even when you grow up.” That was the last height mark my dad made for me before he passed away. I stood at the doorway and stared at it for a long time. Then, I got to work. By the time Harper arrived with the notary public team, I had turned on every single light in the apartment. Living room, bedroom, study, kitchen, balcony, bathroom. Every corner was recorded on video. The lock cylinder, window latches, router, computer, bookshelves, and sealed drawers were all filmed clearly. Harper looked at me. “Who exactly are you protecting yourself against?” “A pregnant woman.” Her movements froze. “You can’t just say things like that.” “I know. That’s why I’m only keeping evidence.” In front of the notary public, I changed the admin password of my smart lock and deactivated all temporary access codes. The visitor code I had set for Julian was completely wiped. System prompt: Access revoked successfully. I took a screenshot and uploaded it to the cloud. Next, I factory-reset my old home router and had Marcus, our IT security lead, log in remotely. After hearing my request, Marcus fell silent for a long time. “Are you sure you want to completely wipe the real bidding documents from your personal devices?” “Positive.” “Then what do we leave on your home computer?” “A fake one.” “How fake?” “Fake enough to look real, but designed to track every single action once opened.” Marcus laughed. At 1:00 AM, Julian sent me a message. “Still busy, babe? I ordered some warm milk for you. I left it at your office front desk.” Right after, Audrey posted in the project WhatsApp group. “It was my fault today. I put Chloe in a difficult position. Please don’t blame her. I’ll just come to the office earlier tomorrow. Even if I live far away, I won’t let it affect our progress.” People in the group immediately began comforting her. “You’re already working so hard.” “Don’t cry, Audrey. Your health comes first.” “Some people get a promotion and immediately forget how hard it is for the rest of us.” I didn’t reply. The glowing text appeared again. [Do not touch the file envelope at the front desk.] [There’s a USB drive inside. Once plugged into your computer, it will install remote control malware.] I looked at my phone. The receptionist had just texted me: “Hey Chloe, someone left some midnight snacks and a document envelope for you. They said it’s important material.” I replied: “Don’t open it. Leave it right under the security camera. I’ll have IT security pick it up tomorrow.” The next morning, Marcus came to my office holding an anti-static bag. “You’re a psychic.” “There’s a Trojan horse inside the USB, disguised as a PDF reader plugin. The moment you plug it into your laptop, they can remotely copy your files.” I stared at the black USB drive. “Can you trace the source?” “No fingerprints on the packaging, but we can trace the batch number of the casing. Also, the delivery guy wore a mask, but the lobby security camera caught a side profile of his face.” Harper, who was standing beside me, darkened her expression. “Chloe, from this moment on, do not handle any of this on your own.” I nodded. “I need to make a formal compliance report to the company.” “About what?” “My boyfriend, Julian, is the lead manager for the competing firm on this project.” Harper cursed under her breath. “Why are you only telling me this now?” I whispered, “Because I only realized today that he might be more than just my boyfriend.” 3 The night before the bids were sealed, Ethan suddenly told me to go to the client’s office on the East Side. “The client has a clarification letter that must be confirmed by the project lead in person. It’ll take about half an hour.” I looked at the email CC list. Julian was also in the client’s communication thread. The comments scrolled rapidly. [They’re drawing you away.] [They are breaking into your apartment.] [Don’t go alone. Take legal counsel. Turn on your GPS tracking.] I turned to Harper. “Come with me.” Ethan’s face fell. “Why are you bringing legal? The client will think we don’t trust them.” Harper pinned her badge to her coat. “During the bidding lock-up period, any off-site confirmation requires legal presence to ensure compliance.” Ethan shut his mouth. On the way to the East Side, I kept my phone recording and shared my live location with Marcus. But when we arrived at the client’s lobby, the receptionist told us their manager had just left. When I called the assistant, they gave a vague answer: “Oh, maybe we got the time wrong.” Harper and I exchanged a look. We immediately turned around and sped back. Halfway there, my phone rang. It was Mr. Miller, the building property manager, his voice trembling. “Miss Chloe, you need to come back right now! Something terrible happened in your apartment!” My blood ran cold. “Who is in my apartment?” “A pregnant lady. She said she’s your colleague. She collapsed in your living room, and there’s blood on the floor. The ambulance is already on its way!” Harper grabbed my hand tightly. “Don’t panic. Don’t say anything yet.” I stared out at the streetlights flashing past. The comments flooded my eyes. [She’s starting her performance.] [Someone has already posted photos in the company group.] [The company’s security system is about to sound the alarm.] Sure enough, the next second, the company’s main WhatsApp group exploded. Someone had posted a photo. It was my living room. Audrey was lying on the floor, her face deathly pale, clutching her stomach. There was blood on her skirt. The caption read: “Something happened at Chloe’s place! I think Audrey just had a miscarriage!” Immediately after, an IT security alert popped up on my phone. “Warning: Suspected core file exfiltration. Source IP: Oakridge Apartments, Unit 6, Chloe’s home network.” The chat group went absolutely wild. “Her home network? Are you kidding me?” “Why was Audrey even at Chloe’s place?” “She turned her down yesterday, and now this happens? That is way too suspicious.” “The bidding files were leaked from her house? Isn’t she dating Julian from the rival company?” My fingertips were freezing. Julian’s call came through. I picked up. “Chloe, where are you? Audrey said you guys got into a huge fight, and she fell.” I asked, “What else did she say?” He paused. “She said… you found out about the baby.” “What baby?” “Chloe,” he lowered his voice, “now is not the time to argue about this. Just come back, apologize, and keep a low profile. I’ll find a lawyer for you.” I let out a harsh laugh. “Julian, you’ll help me?” “I’m doing this for your own good.” “Then wait for me at the scene.” I slammed the phone down. Ten minutes later, I rushed up to the sixth floor. The hallway was packed with people. Paramedics were wheeling a stretcher out. Audrey was lying on it, drenched in sweat. The moment she saw me, tears gushed down her face. “Chloe… I just wanted to live closer so I could finish the project. Even if you found out the baby is Julian’s… you shouldn’t have done this to me.” Her voice wasn’t loud. But it was loud enough for everyone in the hallway to hear. 4 The hallway erupted. “The baby is Julian’s?!” “Isn’t Julian Chloe’s boyfriend?” “So the girlfriend caught the mistress and caused a miscarriage?!” “Wait, Chloe isn’t even married to Julian yet. Still, this is brutal. Taking it out on a pregnant woman is disgusting.” The paramedics pushed the stretcher toward the elevator. Audrey clung to the railing, sobbing hysterically. “I didn’t want to steal anything from you! I was already planning to leave him! Why couldn’t you just spare my baby?!” I looked at her. Impressive. She had seamlessly twisted “borrowing the apartment,” “the affair,” and “the miscarriage” into one single narrative. My refusal became jealousy. Her breaking into my home became me inviting her in. The baby she had lost days ago became a life I had murdered tonight. Ethan and a few other colleagues rushed up. Ethan’s face was livid. “Chloe, what the hell is going on here?” I ignored him. Instead, I turned to Mr. Miller. “Who opened my door?” Mr. Miller stammered, sweating profusely. “She… she had an authorization letter signed by you, and she showed us your chat logs. She said you agreed to let her move in tonight. She’s pregnant, and she said her stomach was hurting, so we called a locksmith…” I held out my hand. “Show me the authorization letter.” Mr. Miller handed me a printed piece of paper. It had my signature on it. The forgery was almost perfect. He also showed me a screenshot of a Snapchat conversation. “Audrey, you can stay at my place tonight. I’ll let property management know to give you the key, babe.” The profile picture was mine. But the tone wasn’t. I never call anyone “babe” except Julian. Then, someone posted a screenshot of Audrey’s bank transfer to the group. Five thousand dollars. Memo: Deposit for Oakridge Apartment rental. I opened my own PayPal transaction history. A transfer of five thousand dollars had indeed come in last night. But I had refunded it exactly one minute later. My refund memo read: Rental, borrowing, or handover of property was never approved. I posted the screenshot directly into the company main group chat. The group went silent for a second. But almost immediately, someone typed: “Well, maybe you just changed your mind at the last second.” “Yeah, Audrey was already inside your apartment. It’s not like she picked the lock herself.” “A baby is dead. Can we focus on saving a life first? You’re still arguing about technicalities. This is chilling.” Julian came running up the stairs. He looked more disheveled than anyone. “Chloe, please, stop aggravating her.” I stared at him. “She said the baby is yours.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Discussing this right now is completely pointless.” “Whether it’s pointless isn’t for you to decide.” He took a step closer, lowering his voice. “Calm down. The company system shows the files were leaked from your IP address, and Audrey collapsed in your home. The best thing you can do right now is cooperate. Don’t make this any bigger than it is.” I stared at his familiar face. For the past year, I thought he was gentle, restrained, and respectful of boundaries. Now I realized those were just his tools. The comments flashed. [Don’t argue with them.] [Don’t beg them to believe you.] [File a formal police report.] I took out my phone and typed a message into the company main group: “I am calling the police. I request the crime scene and the servers be sealed.” Then, I dialed 91 “I’d like to report a break-in. Someone illegally entered my apartment using a forged authorization. I suspect malicious frame-up. Additionally, my company’s highly confidential bidding project has been targeted for trade secret theft. I request an on-site investigation and digital forensics.”

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Just because of one word from his little assistant, the entire company’s team-building event was changed to an extreme Via Ferrata cliff-climbing course. But I was eight months pregnant. I had just started bleeding, and the doctor had strictly ordered me to stay in bed to save my baby. I held my husband Marcus’s hand, begging him to let me stay at the hotel instead of climbing. Before Marcus could even speak, his assistant, Chloe, smiled and cut in: “Sera, you’re not looking down on us, are you? It’s just a team-building event, but you refuse to join. Do you always have to be so special?” “It’s just climbing a cliff. It’s not like we’re asking you to give birth right there.” The conference room burst into laughter. Marcus’s face darkened. “If everyone else can go, why can’t you?” Furious, I yelled back at him, “I am carrying your child! Do you want me to risk his life just to show off for your company?” Stunned by my outburst, he quickly changed his tune, telling me I could just rest at the hotel. But the next morning, when I opened my eyes, I found myself tied to a sheer cliff face. Looking down, there was only a bottomless abyss. The safety rope on my harness was just a flimsy, single-line cord. As I reached for my phone to call for help, Chloe’s voice drifted down from right above me: “Hang in there, Sera! Marcus personally chose the safest route for you. No one else even got the chance! Don’t let his hard work go to waste!” Looking at the helicopter hovering in the sky above, I was about to scream curses at them. But what Marcus said next made my blood run dead cold. “Sera, stop using the baby in your belly to threaten me. Because that bastard isn’t even mine.”

I thought I had heard him wrong. “What did you just say?” I stared at the helicopter hovering in mid-air, my voice shattered by the howling wind. Marcus held a megaphone, a vicious, cold sneer plastered across his face. “Are you deaf? I said the bastard in your womb isn’t mine!” “Ever since I met Chloe, I haven’t touched you once in the past year!” My brain exploded. Memories of the dark nights over the past year flashed through my mind. Marcus always lit a strange, fragrant incense in the bedroom. He always blindfolded me with a black cloth, claiming it was to add some excitement to our marriage. And I, like an idiot, actually believed his lies! “You sick bastards!” I screamed with every ounce of strength left in my lungs. Chloe leaned half her body out of the helicopter, holding a megaphone and laughing hysterically. “Don’t be so angry, Sera. The old man’s will has already been signed anyway.” “Marcus has officially inherited the family fortune now. You and that bastard in your belly are completely useless to us.” With that, she threw a plastic water bottle right at me. The bottle slammed hard against my forehead, making my vision spin with bright stars. I gripped the rusted iron rungs on the cliff face, the agonizing pain in my abdomen ripping through me in waves. Warm blood had already soaked through my hiking pants, dripping down my legs. “Marcus, I was your wife for three years!” I screamed in utter despair. “Even if you want a divorce, you don’t have to kill me!” Marcus looked down at me with nothing but disgust and sheer hatred. “If you don’t die, how am I supposed to collect the $80 million accidental death insurance policy?” “Besides, Chloe is pregnant now. We need to clear away any obstacles for our true love.” I froze, staring in shock at Chloe’s slightly bloated belly. My heart died completely. This was the man for whom I had abandoned my career and my family. He was a heartless, greedy piece of trash who had absolutely no limits! Just then, a few colleagues from the company climbed up from the route below. Each of them was equipped with heavy-duty double safety ropes and professional helmets. “Oh, look, isn’t that Sera?” Leo from the sales department yelled. “Why is her pants covered in blood? Did she wet herself on the cliff?” Ross, the HR manager, gripped the rock with one hand and laughed out loud. “Wetting herself? No way. She probably splashed fake blood on herself to play the victim!” “Don’t you see the boss watching from the helicopter? She’s definitely putting on a show to get sympathy.” Another female colleague pulled out her phone and aimed it straight at me. “Sera, smile for the camera! Let everyone see how you’re dragging the team down.” Enduring the agonizing spasms in my abdomen, I screamed to them for help. “Help me! My safety rope is only a single line! It’s about to snap!” “My baby… I’m losing my baby! I’m having a miscarriage!”

Manager Ross rolled his eyes dramatically. “Just shut up already. Chloe already warned us about you.” “She said you hired a prop master to make a fake blood pack just to ruin our team-building trip.” “We’re not falling for your tricks!” One by one, they climbed right past me, stepping ruthlessly on the iron rungs right next to my fingers. Leo even went out of his way to kick my ankle with his heavy hiking boot. My foot slipped. My entire body weight slammed instantly onto that single, flimsy safety rope. Rrrriiiip. A terrifying tearing sound echoed from the harness around my waist. The cheap safety rope had ripped one-third of the way through! My body plummeted violently, leaving me dangling in the empty air against the sheer cliff face. Directly beneath me was a bottomless abyss filled with sharp, jagged rocks. “Ah!” I shrieked in absolute terror. The blood from my thighs flowed faster now, dripping directly onto Leo’s face below. Leo wiped his face in disgust, cursing under his breath. “Gross! This fake blood smells so real. You really spent a fortune on this, didn’t you?” He didn’t lift a finger to help me. Instead, he climbed up even faster to get away. Up on the helicopter, Chloe clapped her hands in excitement. “Wow! Bungee jumping! Marcus, look! Sera is about to do a rope-free bungee jump!” Marcus sneered and picked up the megaphone again. “Sera, if you jump down now, I’ll be nice enough to buy you a high-end grave.” “But if you keep wasting everyone’s time like this, I’ll dump your ashes straight into the sewer.” The pain in my abdomen was so intense that I was on the verge of losing consciousness. I could feel it clearly—the baby I had tried so hard to protect for eight months was dying inside me. Using the last bit of my strength, I raised my left hand and pressed a hidden red button on the side of my smartwatch. It was a military-grade emergency channel my brother had personally set up for me three years ago. “Tristan…” I whispered weakly into the watch. “Lock down the airspace. Immediately.” “I’m dying. Make all of them pay with their lives.” Chloe saw my movement through her binoculars and laughed so hard she cried. “Marcus, look at her! She’s talking to a stupid watch! Has she gone completely insane from fear?” Marcus’s face was filled with mockery. “She’s always been crazy. Her whole family is just a bunch of penniless nobodies from some backwater town.” “Who is she even calling for help? The mayor of her little village?” Hysterical laughter erupted from the helicopter cabin. The walkie-talkies of the colleagues on the cliff broadcasted Marcus’s mockery in real-time. Everyone on the cliff was laughing at me. “She thought she hit the jackpot by marrying the boss, acting so high and mighty in the office.” “Now karma’s finally catching up to her. She deserves it!” I bit my lower lip hard, completely ignoring their venomous insults. Only I knew the truth about my family. My grandfather was a highly respected four-star General. My father was a Wall Street billionaire tycoon. And my brother was the Commander of the Joint Special Operations Command. Three years ago, for the sake of what I thought was true love, I hid my identity and married Marcus. I didn’t hesitate to cut ties with my family, enduring endless hardships during these three years. Now, I finally saw this devil’s den for what it truly was!

“What’s the point of calling your town mayor?” Chloe was practically falling over laughing inside the helicopter. She pointed at the military smartwatch on my wrist. “Which flea market did you buy that second-hand trash from?” “Do you really think there’s cell service out here in the mountains to call your little helpers?” Marcus bellowed through the megaphone in agreement. “Sera, even your bluffing is pathetic.” “Is that brother of yours still carrying bricks at some construction site?” “If he actually shows up to save you today, I’ll jump out of this helicopter myself!” The helicopter’s massive rotors whipped up violent gusts of wind. The wind tangled my hair across my face. My face was covered in cold sweat and tears of despair. I stared cold-hard at the man in the designer suit hovering in the air. That $10,000 custom suit he was wearing was bought with my own secret savings. I remembered a rainy night three years ago. Marcus had knelt outside my apartment door, completely stripped of his dignity. Soaked to the bone, he clung to my legs and swore an oath. “Sera, I might be poor right now, but I swear I will never let you suffer. Not even a little bit.” “If anyone dares to touch a single hair on your head, I’ll fight them to the death!” “I am going to make you the happiest woman in the world!” Those were his exact words. And for those cheap, worthless promises, I had blocked my entire family’s contact numbers without hesitation. I willingly lived in a damp, dark basement with him, eating the cheapest instant noodles. I stayed up all night writing business proposals for him, bringing him clients and resources. In just three years, I dragged him up from a low-level salesman to the CEO of his own company. But everything changed six months ago when Chloe joined the company. Chloe drove a luxury car to work. She flaunted her new designer bags every single day. She dropped constant hints to everyone that she was the daughter of a wealthy tycoon. Marcus’s eyes grew greedier every time he looked at her. He started finding excuses to stay out all night. He began complaining that I didn’t know how to dress, mocking me for smelling like a “poor nobody.” I thought he was just letting his fast success get to his head. I never imagined he had already hopped into bed with Chloe, let alone that they were plotting my death! “Marcus! What did I ever do to deserve this?!” I screamed into the sky with everything I had. “I suffered with you! I built your company with you!” “Why do you have to kill me in such a cruel way?!” Hearing my accusation, Marcus’s face turned incredibly dark. He sneered in disgust from the helicopter. “You helped me build the company?” “You’re a penniless girl who couldn’t even afford college tuition! What could you possibly do to help me?” “If Chloe’s father hadn’t promised to invest $50 million in my company, I would have been dragged down by you for the rest of my life!” Chloe proudly stroked her slightly rounded belly. She looked down at me with supreme contempt. “Sera, you need to know your place.” “Marcus is a multi-millionaire CEO now. You don’t belong in his world.” “Only the noble bloodline in my belly is fit to inherit the Vance family fortune.” I felt my stomach churn violently. Blood was still dripping down my legs. My inner thighs were completely numb. The eight-month-old baby in my womb had gone completely still. It was the little life I had cherished and looked forward to for eight long months. Now, it was just a cold, lifeless soul. Seeing that I had stopped struggling, the colleagues below climbed up even more aggressively. Ross, the HR manager, pulled out a crumpled document. Holding onto his safety rope with one hand, he slapped the document hard against my leg. “Sera, stop being so stubborn.” “The boss just said that if you sign over all your founder shares in the company for free,” “He’ll show some mercy and let the rescue team pull you up.” I looked down at the stock transfer agreement covered in my own blood. Finally, I understood Marcus’s entire master plan. Not only did he want to steal my $80 million insurance money. He wanted to completely swallow the very company I had secretly built for him from the ground up!

“In your dreams!” I spat, biting my lip so hard that blood sprayed onto the paper. “I would rather die than let you disgusting parasites get a single penny!” Marcus completely lost his patience. He shoved the pilot aside and grabbed the helicopter’s controls. The helicopter suddenly dipped, diving dangerously close to the cliff where I hung. The massive downdraft from the rotors instantly created a violent storm. The single safety line holding me began to rip apart under the immense strain. “Since you want to play the hero, then go die with your worthless pride!” Marcus roared through the megaphone. “Leo! Help our dear Director Sera on her way!” “Once it’s done, the Vice President position is yours!” Hearing those words, Leo’s eyes lit up with absolute greed. Without a second thought, he unclipped his backup safety hook. Using the iron rungs, he climbed rapidly until he was directly beneath me. He reached up and grabbed my dangling right foot with both hands. “Sorry, Sera!” Leo screamed, his face twisted in a monstrous grin. “But you’re standing in the way of my promotion! Just drop already!” He pulled down on my leg with all his might. My body was yanked violently downward by the force. At last, the safety rope around my waist gave its final, sharp snap. Snap! The cheap nylon rope broke completely in two. My body lost all support, plunging straight down toward the rocky abyss. “Ah!” I screamed as the sensation of weightlessness instantly swallowed me. But in the very next second of my rapid fall, My ten fingers clawed desperately at a sharp, protruding rock edge on the cliff. The massive force of my fall instantly tore the muscles in my shoulders. The agonizing pain of dislocating both shoulders almost made me black out. Below me was the endless, rocky void. I was hanging on by nothing but ten bloody fingers, clinging desperately to the edge of the cliff. “Oh my, this street dog just refuses to die!” Chloe shrieked in frustration from the helicopter. She turned around and grabbed a baseball bat from the cabin. “Marcus, get the helicopter closer!” “I want to knock her down myself!” Without hesitation, Marcus maneuvered the helicopter closer to me. The landing gear was almost touching the top of my head. Chloe leaned halfway out of the cabin. She raised the baseball bat, aiming straight at my hands gripping the rock. “In your next life, remember to keep your eyes open! Don’t touch things that don’t belong to you.” She brought the bat down hard onto my left hand. Crack! The skin on my left hand split instantly, exposing white bone underneath. My entire body convulsed in pure agony, leaving only my right hand to hold the entire weight of my body. A few meters above, Leo laughed mockingly. “Sera! Weren’t you always so capable at the office?” “Why don’t you call your little town mayor brother again?!” Manager Ross joined in on the mockery. “Her phone fell down the cliff. How is she going to call anyone?” “Maybe her brother is eating scraps under some bridge right now!” Before their laughter could fade, My smartwatch vibrated gently against my wrist. I looked up at the sky. Exactly one hundred and eighty seconds had passed since I pressed the emergency button. My brother had told me once: The moment I press that red button, The entire Special Operations Command would arrive, fully armed, within three minutes. Suddenly, a deep, deafening rumble echoed through the sky like thunder. Marcus looked up, confused. Chloe stopped swinging the bat. On the cliff, every single colleague looked up at the sky in unison. In the next second, the entire sky over the mountain range went dark. The sun was completely blocked out. Twenty pitch-black, heavy-duty military attack helicopters ripped through the clouds like a tidal wave of black steel! The terrifying downdraft from the military choppers sent Marcus’s small civilian helicopter spinning wildly out of control. “Ah! Help! The helicopter is going down!” Chloe screamed, dropping the baseball bat and clinging onto the co-pilot’s seat for dear life. Marcus fought the controls frantically, his face turning pale as a sheet. “What is going on?!” “Is there a military exercise here today?!” “Why wasn’t there any airspace restriction notice?!”

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On the first day of summer break, my parents found me another job. “A supermarket clerk. The pay is decent, and you can build some real-world experience.” From my freshman to senior year of college, they had repeated this exact phrase for four years. During my freshman year, they packed me off to work in a factory while they took Lily to Hawaii. During my sophomore year, they sent me to work at a convenience store while they paid for Lily’s driving lessons. During my junior year, they made me work as a janitor while they jetted off to the Maldives with Lily. So, where were they going this year? “Tokyo, Japan.” My older brother, Logan, pushed the door open, smiling as he handed me a pair of sneakers. “I bought these specifically for you. You can stand for ten hours in them easily.” “I’m paying for the trip this year,” Logan added. “Lily is still young. It’s the perfect time for her to see the world.” Lily smiled sweetly, squealing as she threw her arms around his neck. “Logan, you’re the best! I knew you guys loved me the most.” I looked at my parents. They quickly avoided my gaze. Nobody cared how I felt, even though I was only a year older than Lily. I suddenly smiled, knelt down, and put on the shoes. They were lightweight. Light enough for me to run far away from this family.

My mother was packing Lily’s suitcase when she suddenly remembered something. She looked up and called out to Logan: “Logan, Lily is starting her senior year next year. You have to keep an eye out and help her find a good job.” “The job market is brutal for college grads right now. Good openings are hard to find. You…” She stopped mid-sentence. She seemed to suddenly realize there was another daughter in the room who was actually graduating this semester. Logan didn’t notice the tension at all. “Don’t worry. I’ve already pulled some strings. The moment Lily graduates, she can start at a major corporation.” He paused, finally remembering my existence. He asked, purely out of politeness: “Chloe, do you need any help?” “No.” I had already found a job. An overseas posting to Mexico. I’d be leaving in a few days, as soon as my college diploma arrived. Logan gave a brief nod and dropped the subject. My father, sensing the awkward silence, tried to smooth things over with a chuckle. “Chloe has always been independent. We never have to worry about her.” My hand froze on my shoelaces. I wasn’t independent by choice. I just knew that if I didn’t do everything myself, nobody would help me. Logan was the firstborn, enjoying six years of undivided attention. Lily was the baby of the family, the little princess pampered by our parents. Then there was me. Wedged in the middle, practically invisible. Lily set down her soda and ran over, grabbing my arm. “Is there anything you want? I can bring you back a souvenir!” Her expression was sincere, but there was a flicker of guilt in her eyes. So, she did realize how unfair this was. But I knew better. She would forget. Just like on every other trip, she would remember the silk scarf our mother wanted, and the tie our father needed. She would even hunt down vintage cameras for Logan. But she would never remember me. That flash of guilt on her face vanished in an instant. I was used to it. I gave her a gentle smile. “Just bring back whatever you find.” My mother stopped packing and smiled at me. “Chloe, look how sweet Lily is to you.” “Aren’t you going to show some appreciation if she’s bringing you back a gift?” My father seemed to be waiting for this. He chimed in smoothly. “Tell you what. Why don’t you give Lily your first month’s salary from the supermarket as pocket money?” “Oh, no, it’s fine,” Lily said, brushing it off with a casual wave. Logan patted her head. “Don’t be too polite. Just focus on having fun.” With just a few sentences, they decided how my hard-earned money would be spent. They didn’t even bother to ask my opinion. It had been like this every year since my freshman year. Last year, after paying my tuition, I was completely broke. I asked Lily to lend me fifty dollars for food. Five minutes after she sent me the money… Both my mother and Logan called me. “You’re a grown adult! How could you take Lily’s money?” “If you’re short on cash, ask us. Why are you taking advantage of Lily?” But an hour before that, I had texted my mother asking for help, and she had completely ignored me. Meanwhile, she replied to Lily’s texts within seconds. My phone buzzed. I took my shoes off and went to my bedroom. It was an email from the company. “The paperwork is complete. We will meet in New York next Monday for orientation.” “Understood.” Right after I sent the reply, there was a knock on my door. Lily pushed the door open and walked straight to my suitcase. “My suitcase is so ugly. Can I borrow yours for the trip?” “No, I need it.” “For what? You’re not going anywhere.” I stayed silent. She didn’t want my suitcase because it looked nice. She wanted it because she didn’t care about ruining it. No matter how carefully I kept my things, they always came back scratched and dented whenever she borrowed them. The air in the room grew heavy. She stood there, her face darkening as she stared at me. Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, she stormed out and slammed the door. I silently counted down in my head. “Five, four, three, two… one.” Bang! The door was flung open again. “Chloe Miller.” My parents stood at the door, with Logan right behind them.

“Lily just wants to borrow your suitcase. Why are you being so selfish?” “You won’t even share a simple thing. Are we not a family?” “I need it.” This time, I didn’t back down. “Forget it. If she doesn’t want to lend it, then don’t force her,” Lily sniffled from behind them, looking incredibly hurt. My parents immediately hugged her, whispering comforting words. Logan stared at me, his eyes narrowing. Suddenly, he walked back to his room. He dragged out a sky-blue suitcase. “Lily, use this one.” My grip on the doorknob tightened. That suitcase was a gift I had saved up to buy for Logan. Lily knew exactly what it was. She shot me a deliberate, mocking look. “I don’t know, Logan… Chloe might get upset.” Logan’s face was completely blank. He was doing this on purpose. Just as he was about to speak… I cut in. “It’s fine. It’s his now. He can do whatever he wants with it.” The room fell dead silent. Logan snapped his head to look at me, his brows furrowing. But he didn’t say another word. He just took Lily and left. At dinner, nobody called me. When I finally walked out, they were deep in a lively discussion. “Warm gray is so elegant and cozy. I vote for warm gray for the living room paint,” my mother said. Logan chimed in naturally. “Actually, off-white fits modern aesthetics better. It’s minimalist and chic.” Lily grabbed a piece of chicken and giggled. “I don’t care how you guys decorate the rest of the house, but I get full control over my bedroom!” My father didn’t join the debate, happily eating his food. But then his eyes caught me standing there. He coughed loudly. Their conversation died instantly. So, they bought a new house, and I was the only one who didn’t know. I sat down and took a bite of the closest dish. It felt like swallowing needles. My parents exchanged a look, and my mother cleared her throat. “Chloe, we bought a new place. The rooms are already assigned, but you should go check it out when you have time.” I slowly swallowed my food and asked in a raspy voice: “When did you buy it?” “Six months ago. We just… didn’t find the right time to tell you.” Whether they didn’t have the time or just didn’t want to tell me, I could easily tell the difference. I gave a quiet nod and suddenly asked: “What’s the passcode?” “971604.” 971604. The combination of Logan and Lily’s birthdays. I looked up at her, my lips trembling slightly. “When is my birthday?” My mother froze, her expression turning defensive. “What’s wrong with you? Did you seriously forget your own birthday?” My father laughed, thinking I was joking. “You were born in the winter. You actually came early. It was snowing heavily that day, and your mother slipped. She almost didn’t make it through labor. She suffered so much to bring you into this world. She always says you were born to collect a debt from her.” My mother coughed, looking uncomfortable, and avoided my eyes. “Why bring that up now?” I lowered my head, my hands shaking uncontrollably under the table. A few minutes later, Logan and Lily finished eating. They piled their dirty dishes on the table and retreated to their rooms. After my father left the table, my mother stood up too. “Chloe, family rule: whoever finishes last does the dishes.” With that, she turned and left. The dining table was cluttered with scraps and dirty plates. I was always the slowest. Because during dinner, no one ever bothered to call me to the table. My mother would call Logan; my father would call Lily. By the time I came out, the food was mostly gone. And so, the dishes were always my job. While I was cleaning up the kitchen, my grandparents called. “I heard from Logan that you guys are taking Lily to Japan?” My grandmother’s voice came through the speaker. “Yes! Is there anything you want us to bring back?” my mother answered happily. My grandmother laughed and said she didn’t need anything. “Isn’t Chloe going?” Without a second thought, my mother replied: “Oh, no, she’s not. She wants to work to get some life experience.” “That girl…” My grandfather sighed on the line but didn’t push further. Because for the last four years of college, my parents had always given the exact same excuses. “Isn’t Chloe coming to the amusement park?” “No, she wants to stay home and study.” “Isn’t Chloe skiing with you guys?” “No, she hates sports.” “Isn’t Chloe getting her portraits taken?” “She has a breakout right now; she doesn’t want to take photos.” … In their narrative, I was a dull bookworm, an antisocial ghost, a fool who only cared about working hard. That way, no one could call them out on their unfairness—because “that’s just how Chloe is.”

The doorbell rang. I put the last plate on the drying rack, wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, and walked to the front door. “Hi, delivery. Sign here, please.” It was my college diploma. A sudden weight lifted from my chest. It meant I could finally leave. “What’s that?” Logan’s voice sounded from behind me. He was holding a cup of coffee, his hands in his pockets, watching the faint smile on my lips. “My diploma.” “Oh,” he murmured, turning to leave, but then stopped. “Do you want a graduation gift? I did promise I’d get you one.” I froze. I hadn’t expected him to remember. But I had long stopped expecting anything from him. After a few seconds of silence, I looked up. “Can you drive me to get a vaccine tomorrow?” The company required us to get specific vaccinations before our overseas posting to Mexico, just in case. “That’s it?” he asked, surprised. I nodded. “That’s it.” He shrugged and agreed. The next afternoon, with my bag packed, I stood by the door waiting for him. But when Logan came out, he had a look of helplessness on his face. “Lily needs to buy some clothes for the trip. I’m going to drop her off at the mall first. I’ll drive you as soon as I get back.” “But my appointment is set.” “Can’t you just reschedule? Lily is leaving tomorrow; she’s in a rush.” The words died in my throat. Seeing my silence, Lily’s eyes instantly welled with tears. She clutched the hem of her shirt and muttered softly: “It’s fine, I don’t need new clothes. Logan, you should just take Chloe.” Logan immediately dismissed her worry. “Don’t talk like that. You need to look nice for the trip, don’t you?” Then, as if realizing he was being visibly biased, he threw the decision back to me. “Chloe, what do you think?” I looked at his face, seeing the silent pressure in his eyes. I felt incredibly exhausted. They pretended to let me decide. But we all knew the choice had never been mine to make. I stayed silent for a few seconds, then forced a small smile. “Go ahead.” Logan sighed in relief. Lily ran over and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Thanks, Chloe!” “Don’t worry about it.” I took an Uber and got the vaccine on my own. Afterward, I booked a train ticket for the next day. When I got home, Lily was busy showing off her new clothes to my parents. Finally, she pulled out the gifts she bought for them. My mother showered her with praise, but the moment she saw me walk in, her smile vanished. “Chloe, I have to say, Lily is so much more thoughtful than you. She always remembers to buy things for your father and me, but you never think of us.” “Where would I get the money?” The only reason Lily could buy them gifts was because my mother had handed her two thousand dollars before she left for the mall. Lily was just using their own money to buy their affection, and my mother knew it. Yet, she still chose to use it to hurt me. “What is that supposed to mean? Are you complaining that I don’t give you money? How old are you? Still bitter and comparing yourself to Lily?” My mother hadn’t expected me to talk back. She sputtered in disbelief before launching into an angry tirade. “I’m twenty-four. Only a year older than Lily.” “That’s enough!” my father barked, cutting me off. “You’re a grown adult. Why are you picking fights with your mother?” Logan looked at me with a complicated expression. “Chloe, what is up with your attitude lately?” With everyone taking her side, my mother’s eyes turned red. She sniffled and stormed back to her bedroom, playing the victim.

“Chloe, you need to go apologize to Mom.” Lily blocked my path, grabbing my arm with a serious, self-righteous expression. “Let go of me.” She shook her head, looking down at me as if she were my moral superior. “She’s your mother. She gave you life. How can you treat her like that? You’re so ungrateful.” A deep, heavy sadness washed over me. In this house, she was the absolute last person who had any right to lecture me. I had tolerated everything, stayed quiet, and never caused trouble. And yet, even a tiny murmur of discontent wasn’t allowed. Everyone loved her, so everything she did was right. “You’re so noble, aren’t you?” My voice was barely a whisper. I didn’t even look at her. But the moment those words left my mouth, her face twisted in rage. She screamed at me as if she had been deeply insulted: “No wonder Mom and Dad don’t like you! You’re a freak!” With that, she shoved me hard and ran into her bedroom. I stumbled back, hitting my hip hard against the sharp corner of the dining table. Pain shot through my body, forcing me to double over. Logan rushed past me to comfort the crying Lily. My father went into the bedroom to soothe my mother. Nobody cared about me. Good. Clutching my bruised hip, I slowly dragged myself back to my bedroom. That night, once again, nobody called me for dinner. I was in too much pain to have an appetite anyway, so I stayed in my room. But when I went out to use the bathroom later, the table was piled high with dirty dishes. They were waiting for me to clean up. Maybe they even thought they were giving me a “way out”—assuming I would crawl back to them, doing the chores like a pathetic maid just to get back in their great graces. But I was done. The next afternoon, my parents and Lily were excitedly preparing to leave for the airport. When they saw me, their chatter paused for a second. Then my mother let out a cold sneer. “Always walking around with that miserable face, like the whole world owes her something.” Logan followed me into the bathroom. He watched me through the mirror, his voice deep and stern. “Are you really not going to apologize to Mom? Can you really watch her leave for vacation unhappy?” “She looks perfectly happy to me.” I shook the water off my hands, dried them, and pushed past him. Logan’s face turned pale with anger as he followed me out. Just as he opened his mouth to snap at me… My mother cut him off. “Stop wasting your breath on her. She’s just a stray dog that bites anyone who gets close.” This time, neither my father nor Logan, who usually tried to keep the peace, said a word. I was the first to walk out of the house. When we met downstairs, Lily suddenly froze. “Chloe, where are you going?” “Where else? To her job,” my mother sneered, pulling Lily toward the waiting Uber. But suddenly, my father stopped. His eyes fell on my suitcase. If I was just going to the local supermarket, which was down the street, why did I have a heavy travel suitcase? My father’s heart skipped a beat. He waved at me frantically, but when I didn’t look back, his pace quickened as he walked toward me. “Chloe! Where are you going?” But the next second, a loud, sharp horn blared. He froze in his tracks, his face turning pale.

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The surgery was over, and the baby did not survive. The nurse told me to find someone to stay with me, so I clutched my cracked phone and dialed my husband’s number again. The one who answered was his friend, and his voice carried a smile. “Ethan is inside with the kid, so he left his phone with me.” From the other end of the line came the gentle voice of a preschool teacher. “The child is very attached to Mr. Lancaster, and he kept calling him Daddy while filling out the forms.” My throat went dry. “Where is he?” “At the .” The phone was passed over, and the man’s low voice finally sounded, rushed and impatient. “Chloe Parker, I’m busy right now, so go home and wait for me.” The nurse leaned toward the phone and said coldly, “Sir, your wife just fell down the stairs and had a miscarriage, so please come over as soon as possible!” The other end of the line went dead silent for a moment. Right after that, a woman’s voice came through. “Ethan, should I put your phone number on the parent commitment form?” The way she called him “Ethan” was far too familiar. He did not answer the nurse, and only lowered his voice. “Chloe Parker, don’t make a scene today.” The call ended. I did not want him anymore.

Chloe Parker POV “The surgery is over, and the baby did not survive. You can’t move around right now, so it would be best to find someone to stay with you.” The nurse kept her voice very soft and looked at me, who had just finished surgery, with sympathy all over her face. I stared at the snow-white ceiling, and it took me a long while before I understood what she had said. Before I fell down the steps outside the interior design firm, I had no idea I was pregnant. Today was the third anniversary of Ethan Lancaster’s and my engagement. We had originally agreed to finalize the last version of the interior design plan for our new home, and I had pushed back a meeting to arrive half an hour early, but the receptionist told me, “Mr. Lancaster just canceled the appointment, and the lighting plan for the primary bedroom and all furniture measurements have been postponed.” I called Ethan Lancaster, but no one answered. Just as I was about to go downstairs to look for him, I tried to avoid a worker pushing a sample rack, slipped, and fell heavily down the steps. Before I lost consciousness, I was still gripping that new-home design plan tightly in my hand. Seeing how pale I looked, the nurse could not help asking again, “Do you want to try contacting him one more time?” With trembling hands, I picked up my phone with its shattered screen and dialed that number again. It rang for a long time before someone finally picked up, but the voice that came through was not Ethan Lancaster’s. “Chloe?” Ethan Lancaster’s friend Ryan Carter sounded amused. “Ethan is inside with the kid, so he left his phone with me.” “Where is he?” My throat was dry and hoarse. “At the preschool center.” The background noise on Ryan Carter’s end was a little chaotic, and he explained vaguely, “He’s just helping a friend deal with a preschool assessment…” Before he could finish, the gentle voice of a preschool teacher came clearly from the other end of the line. “The child is very attached to Mr. Lancaster, and he kept calling him Daddy while filling out the forms. For future enrollment, it would be better if a stable parent or guardian could be there with him.” Ryan Carter immediately covered the receiver, but those words had already entered my ears clearly. Ryan Carter hurried to explain, “Chloe, don’t misunderstand, Ethan is just helping out…” “Where is Ethan Lancaster?” I interrupted him, and my hand instinctively moved to my flat lower abdomen. A child I had not even known existed had just been lost there. The phone was handed over, and Ethan Lancaster’s low voice finally sounded, carrying urgency and impatience. “Chloe Parker, I’m busy right now, so go home and wait for me.” The nurse beside me could not stand it anymore and leaned toward the phone, speaking coldly. “Sir, your wife just fell down the stairs and had a miscarriage, so please come over as soon as possible!” The other end of the line went dead silent for a moment. Ethan Lancaster froze. “What?” I closed my eyes, and right after that, I heard a woman’s voice come through the receiver. “Ethan, should I put your phone number on the parent commitment form? The teacher said Lily only listens to you right now.” The way she called him “Ethan” was far too familiar. Ethan Lancaster did not respond to the nurse, and only lowered his voice into the phone. “Chloe Parker, don’t make a scene today. The child has only just calmed down, and I’ll come over later.” The call was ended from his side. The nurse’s face turned livid with anger. “What kind of family member is that?” I did not cry. I turned my head, and while the nurse was organizing my paperwork, a payment receipt that did not belong to me slipped out. Patient: Margaret Bennett. Accompanying person: Ethan Lancaster. Note: Olivia Bennett’s mother. Olivia Bennett. The first love Ethan Lancaster had always held closest to his heart. I looked at my empty palm, and my fingertips ached faintly.

Chloe Parker POV By the time Ethan Lancaster appeared in the hospital room, it was already the evening of the next day. He was holding the test results he had just picked up from the nurses’ station, and he turned to instruct the caregiver behind him in a low voice. “Don’t miss Margaret Bennett’s evening follow-up. Olivia Bennett can’t handle everything alone, so call me directly if anything happens.” “Don’t worry, Mr. Lancaster. Ms. Bennett even said just now that it was all thanks to you for arranging the specialist appointment.” “It’s what I should do.” Ethan Lancaster’s voice was very steady. I lay in the hospital bed with an IV catheter in the back of my hand, and when I heard those words, my stomach churned. Ethan Lancaster and I had been engaged for three years, and when I got sick or had a fever, he only asked his assistant to send medicine. When I asked when we would get married, he said the company was too busy. But the moment Olivia Bennett came back, he could rush to pick her up at the airport, accompany her to a preschool assessment, and even remember exactly what time the caregiver’s shift changed. Ethan Lancaster pulled open the curtain, and when he saw that I was awake, his brow furrowed slightly. “You’re awake? What did the doctor say?” “The baby is gone.” Ethan Lancaster’s movements paused, and his Adam’s apple bobbed before he finally asked after a long moment, “Why didn’t you tell me before?” I suddenly found it absurd beyond words. “If I had known earlier, would I still have gone to that interior design site you canceled on your own to look for you? Would I still have waited for you to tell me not to make a scene?” Ethan Lancaster’s face darkened, and he reached out as if to touch my shoulder. “I’ll handle this, so focus on recovering first.” I turned my head and avoided him. His hand hovered in midair, and his brows tightened. “Are you blaming me?” “Shouldn’t I blame you?” Ethan Lancaster choked on the question, and just as he was about to speak, his phone suddenly lit up. There was only one word on the screen: Ethan. I clearly saw Ethan Lancaster’s eyes change in an instant. It was an instinctive kind of tension. He walked to the window and answered the call, his voice pressed extremely low. “The interview didn’t pass? Don’t cry, it’s not your fault. Lily just came back from overseas and isn’t used to it yet, so I’ll talk to the teacher again.” After hanging up, he turned around. “I’ll come see you again tonight.” “You’re going to Olivia Bennett?” I asked calmly. A trace of unnaturalness flashed through Ethan Lancaster’s eyes, and his tone turned stiff. “She just came back, the kid’s preschool enrollment isn’t going smoothly, and she has no one around.” “Do I have anyone around me?” The words were very light, but they made Ethan Lancaster freeze where he stood. He lowered his voice, and a warning entered his tone. “Chloe Parker, don’t compare yourself to her. Olivia Bennett is divorced, and it isn’t easy for her to raise a child alone.” “I just had a miscarriage, and it isn’t easy for me either.” I looked into his eyes, my voice cold. A crack finally appeared in Ethan Lancaster’s expression. But very soon, his phone lit up again. This time, he did not even bother to explain, and he grabbed the coat draped over the back of the chair. “I’ll ask the caregiver to come stay with you.” The hospital room door closed. I slowly turned my head and looked out the window. I used to think that if I behaved a little better and was a little more forgiving, I could warm this man’s heart. It was not until today that I finally understood completely: Ethan Lancaster had not been pushed away, and he had simply never planned to stand beside me from the very beginning. On the day I was discharged, Ethan Lancaster did not come, and only sent his driver with a few changes of clothes and a bank card. “Mr. Lancaster had something come up suddenly, so he asked me to take you back to the villa first.” The driver stood to the side awkwardly. The villa was the engagement house Ethan Lancaster had bought, and my name was written on the property title. He once promised that with that house, I would always have a home. I sat silently in the back seat.

Chloe Parker POV The car started, and a glaring “Family Schedule Reminder” suddenly popped up on the navigation screen. [3:00 p.m., Lily’s preschool follow-up meeting.] [7:00 p.m., Olivia Bennett’s mother’s follow-up appointment.] Those two sentences were like two loud slaps. Our new-home appointment had been canceled, yet he had packed Olivia Bennett’s schedule full. The driver noticed the strange atmosphere from the rearview mirror and quickly explained, “Ms. Parker, Mr. Lancaster actually cares about you a lot, and last night he even called me specifically to ask whether the caregiver had arrived…” “Where was he last night?” I interrupted coldly. The driver instantly shut up. The car stopped at the villa. I entered my fingerprint, and when my gaze swept over the information on the access control screen, my movements abruptly froze. Under the family members section, two names had appeared out of nowhere: Olivia Bennett and Lily. My access was listed as “fiancée,” while Olivia Bennett’s access was marked as “temporary guardian contact.” I pushed the door open, and the maid came out of the kitchen holding a glass of water. When she saw me, she panicked. “Ms. Parker! Why are you back today? Mr. Lancaster said you would stay in the hospital for a few more days, and I haven’t had time to clean up yet…” I did not miss her guilty look, and I lifted my eyes toward the second floor. The wall where our wedding photo had originally been planned was empty, and in its place was a new design draft titled “Child-Friendly Space Adjustments.” Several storage boxes were piled by the study door, and inside them were a children’s dining chair and preschool enrollment materials. A handwritten note from Ethan Lancaster lay pressed on the desk: [Pad the sharp corners, remove the glass table, and Olivia Bennett is bringing the child to see the place this weekend.] Not a single thing belonged to me. The maid followed behind me in a panic, sweat breaking out all over her forehead. “Ms. Parker, please don’t misunderstand! Mr. Lancaster said Ms. Bennett just returned from overseas and has nowhere to put her documents, so he recorded her access first for a couple of days and will delete it in a few days…” “Has Olivia Bennett been here?” I turned to look at her. The maid instantly fell silent. I understood completely. I did not lose my temper, and only turned and walked into the primary bedroom. Our engagement photo was still on the nightstand. In the photo, I smiled brightly, while Ethan Lancaster looked indifferent, and his hand was not even around me, only resting lightly behind my shoulder. I used to think that was restraint, but now I knew it was distance. I dragged my suitcase out of the closet. “Ms. Parker! Where are you going?” The maid was frightened. “Mr. Lancaster said you haven’t recovered yet and can’t run around!” “Back to my own place.” As soon as I finished speaking, my phone screen lit up. Ethan Lancaster sent a message: [Don’t run around. I’ll come back tonight and talk to you.] I looked at that commanding line from above and coldly typed my reply: [Fine.] I really did need to talk to him. But it would definitely not be in this new home that had already been prepared for another woman. Ethan Lancaster did not come back that night. I waited until the lights outside the window went dark one by one, and the oatmeal porridge on the dining table cooled, was reheated, cooled again, and reheated again. I sat on the sofa with a coat around me, and waves of dull pain came up inside my body after the anesthesia had worn off. Close to eleven, Ryan Carter called. “Chloe, Ethan has something to do tonight.” Ryan Carter’s voice was much more cautious than during the day. “Olivia Bennett’s kid has a high fever and is making a fuss. Don’t wait for him, and rest early.” I asked, “Did he ask you to call?” Ryan Carter was silent for a moment. “His phone died.” Leaning against the back of the sofa, I suddenly asked, “Ryan Carter, did you know I had a miscarriage?”

Chloe Parker POV There was no sound on the other end of the line. After a long while, Ryan Carter said in a low voice, “I know.” “He knows too.” “Chloe…” “Don’t call me Chloe.” I interrupted him. “He and I are already over.” Ryan Carter was rendered speechless, and after a long pause, he finally said, “Ethan has you in his heart. He owes Olivia Bennett too much, and when she left so suddenly back then, he never really let go. Now that she’s divorced and has come back with a child, he can’t just watch and do nothing.” I listened very calmly. “So he should take care of her.” Ryan Carter let out a breath of relief. “It’s good that you can understand.” “I can understand,” I said. “And I should leave too.” Ryan Carter froze. “What do you mean?” I did not explain and hung up directly. I got up and went to the study, opened the computer, and finished writing the handover sheet for the work I was responsible for. Ethan Lancaster had never liked me tiring myself out too much, saying that the Parker family and the Lancaster family did not need my little salary, and that after marriage, I could work if I wanted to, or stay home and grow flowers if I did not. Back then, I thought it was nice to be taken care of. Looking at it now, the care he spoke of was sometimes a gilded cage. Bit by bit, I gave up my own path, and what I got in return was not peace of mind, but his ability to bring someone else into my home whenever he wanted. At dawn, my phone popped up with Olivia Bennett’s new post. This time, it was a photo from the preschool center. A little girl was sitting on a soft mat building blocks, and Ethan Lancaster was half-kneeling beside her with a temporary parent badge on his chest. Olivia Bennett captioned it: Some doors are opened for you without you even having to ask. Someone commented below: Is that her dad? His side profile is so handsome. Olivia Bennett did not deny it and only replied with a smiling face. I turned off my phone, and a faint taste of rust rose in my throat. I remembered a long time ago, when Ethan Lancaster first brought me to meet his friends. Someone had drunk too much and said half-jokingly, “Chloe Parker, don’t take this too seriously. If the woman in Ethan’s heart comes back, things will get awkward for you.” Ethan Lancaster frowned and scolded that person at the time. “Don’t talk nonsense.” I thought he was defending me. Thinking about it now, what he had defended was only the Lancaster family’s reputation. Early the next morning, Ethan Lancaster finally came back. When he saw the suitcase in the living room, his face instantly darkened. “Where are you going?” I had already changed my clothes. My body was still weak, and I could not stand very steadily, but my voice was very clear. “Back to my own apartment.” Ethan Lancaster pressed his brow, and a crease formed between his eyebrows. “Chloe Parker, don’t use this method to make a scene with me. The villa was originally given to you.” “Then why was my photo wall taken down?” He avoided my gaze. “Olivia Bennett’s documents are a mess, so she’s temporarily borrowing this place to store some things.” “When she needs it, you give it to her.” I raised my eyes to look at him. “I also need a place without her name in it.” Some of the patience in Ethan Lancaster’s eyes faded. “She’s not doing well right now. You’ve always been understanding, so why won’t you take a step back this time?” When I heard his words, I suddenly found them laughable. I was understanding, so I did not push for marriage after three years of engagement. I was understanding, so I pretended not to see it when he stayed with Olivia Bennett. I was understanding, so even after I had just lost my child, I had to make way for his guilt toward her. I pulled up the suitcase handle. “Ethan Lancaster, I’m not here to discuss this with you.” Ethan Lancaster reached out and gripped the handle. “I don’t agree.” I looked at his hand, my tone cold. “There are already too many things you don’t agree with now.”

Chloe Parker POV Ethan Lancaster did not let me leave. He pushed the suitcase back into the living room, told the maid to guard the door, and had the driver take the car away. In that instant, I finally truly saw how forceful he knew he could be. In the past, I went along with him, and he treated that as a matter of course. “When your body is a little better, I’ll send you back to stay for a few days.” Ethan Lancaster stood at the doorway and used a tone meant to soothe me. “Don’t wear yourself out right now.” I sat back on the sofa, my face so pale it was almost transparent. “I can’t even leave if I want to?” Ethan Lancaster did not answer. He received a call from Olivia Bennett and hurried out again. Before leaving, he instructed the maid, “Watch her, and don’t let her run around.” Those words fell lightly, and I suddenly felt that this villa had turned into another hospital room. The doors and windows were all lit up, but not a single place belonged to me. I did not argue anymore. In the afternoon, Ethan Lancaster’s mother called. Her voice was cold, and she started by blaming me. “I heard you’re throwing a tantrum with Ethan. Chloe Parker, you’re not a little girl anymore, and when a man socializes outside and takes care of friends, you should be considerate of him.” I held the phone. “Mrs. Lancaster, I just had a miscarriage.” The other end went quiet for a moment, but she quickly continued, “I heard about that. But the baby is already gone, and you can’t use that to tie Ethan down for the rest of his life.” My fingers slowly tightened. She continued, “I’ve met Olivia Bennett’s child, and her life hasn’t been easy. It isn’t easy for her to raise a daughter alone. Ethan values loyalty, and that is a good quality. If you truly want to marry into the Lancaster family, don’t embarrass the Lancaster family over something like this.” I asked in a low voice, “If I want to marry your son, do I have to give up my own home?” Her tone darkened. “The villa is under your name, so what else are you unhappy about? When a woman is too petty, sooner or later she pushes a man away.” I did not keep listening and hung up. I knew she did not like me. The Parker family was not bad, but compared with the Lancaster family, there was still a gap. Ethan Lancaster’s mother always said I was gentle and knew the bigger picture, making me suitable to be a good wife. Back then, I could not hear what was hidden inside that compliment, but now I understood. That word “suitable” was only because I was easy to control. At dusk, Olivia Bennett came with the child. The maid was obviously panicked when she opened the door. “Ms. Bennett, Mr. Lancaster isn’t here.” Olivia Bennett stood at the doorway holding the child, wearing a beige dress and looking fragile and clean. When she saw me, she froze for a moment, then gave me an apologetic smile. “Ms. Parker, sorry to bother you. The teacher said Lily needs to get familiar with the home environment, so I had no choice but to bring her over to wait for Ethan.” She called Ethan Lancaster “ Uncle Ethan,” and her tone was far too intimate. I sat on the sofa and did not get up. “This is not a waiting room.” Olivia Bennett’s eyes immediately turned red. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you minded this much. I just… I don’t really have any friends here, and Ethan said this place was convenient.” The child began crying in her arms, and Olivia Bennett comforted her in a panic while her tears also fell. “Lily, don’t cry anymore. I’ll take you away, and we won’t upset Ms. Parker. This was never our home anyway.” The maid was so frightened that she did not know what to do. Watching Olivia Bennett’s practiced display of retreat, I suddenly understood why Ethan Lancaster always felt Olivia Bennett needed protection. Olivia Bennett was very good at making people feel that anyone who did not yield to her was heartless. When Ethan Lancaster came back, what he saw was Olivia Bennett standing at the door holding the child and crying, while I sat on the sofa and watched coldly. His face darkened almost instantly. “Chloe Parker, what did you do this time?” I looked up at him. Those words were too familiar. Every time something happened with Olivia Bennett, he always first asked what I had done. Olivia Bennett hurriedly held him back. “Ethan, don’t blame Ms. Parker. I shouldn’t have come.” Ethan Lancaster lowered his head to look at her, and his voice softened. “Go inside first.” At that moment, I completely lost the desire to argue. I stood up, supporting myself on the armrest of the sofa, and my body swayed. Ethan Lancaster instinctively tried to steady me, but I took a step back. “Take your time talking.” Ethan Lancaster frowned. “Where are you going?” I looked at the extra names on the access control screen, and my voice was very soft. “Give me my home back.”

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My dad wanted to see George one last time before he passed away. But George insisted on going to see his first love. I threatened him with divorce. George sneered. “Are you ever going to stop this drama? Since you love throwing tantrums so much, I’ll teach you a lesson today.” He dragged me to the courthouse and threw the signed divorce decree in my face. “Let’s see how you beg me to take you back this time!” I calmly wiped away my tears and called his arch-rival. “Diego, you once said that if I ever got divorced, you would marry me. Does that offer still stand?” “Absolutely.” “Sophie, your dad is slipping away. He wants to see you and George one last time.” My phone slipped from my hand. My mom’s trembling voice kept echoing in my head. Although I had prepared myself for this day, now that the moment was here, I felt like my world was collapsing. I allowed myself only three minutes to cry. Three minutes later, I wiped my tears and went downstairs to find George. I had just had another fight with George over Alice. Every time we fought, George would disappear for days. I had to stop him. Sure enough, when I found George, he was walking toward the door with his car keys. “Where are you going?” George didn’t even look at me. He scoffed, “Since when do I need to report my whereabouts to you?” My heart clenched, but I swallowed my anger. “Can you please come back with me to see my dad first?” George frowned. He was clearly surprised by my sudden softness. In the next second, his phone rang. George glanced at me, then turned slightly to answer the call. “George, the launch event is about to start. When will you get here…” It was Alice’s voice. George’s face softened instantly. “Soon, babe. Just wait for me a little longer…” Anger rushed straight to my head. I grabbed a coffee cup from the side table and hurled it at him. Crash! George dodged. The cup hit the floor and shattered into pieces. “What is wrong with you!” George roared at me, hanging up the phone. My eyes burned with tears. My voice shook. “I asked you a question! Can you please come with me to see my dad one last time?!” George froze for a second, then sneered. “Sophie, I didn’t think you’d make up such a disgusting lie just to stop me from seeing Alice.” “But I don’t have time to argue with you. Alice is waiting for me.” With that, he grabbed his coat from the sofa and turned to leave.

I rushed over and blocked him. “I won’t let you go to her!” George took a deep breath, trying to suppress his rage. “How many times do I have to tell you? Alice and I grew up together.” “We are just friends. Why do you always have to pick on her?!” “Oh, really? Does a ‘friend’ mumble your name repeatedly when she’s drunk?” “Does a ‘friend’ secretly kiss you while you’re asleep?” “Enough!” George shouted impatiently. “I already explained those things to you.” “Can you stop bringing up the past every single time we fight?!” It felt like a heavy blow to my chest. The pain was dull and agonizing. “So, you are absolutely going to see her today, no matter what?” “Yes!” George answered without a second of hesitation. I wiped my tears and laughed bitterly. “If I say we are divorcing if you walk out that door… will you still go?” “Yes!” “Fine. Let’s get divorced.” George was stunned for a moment. But soon, he regained his arrogant posture and mocked me. “Are you ever going to stop this drama? Since you love throwing tantrums so much, I’ll teach you a lesson today.” He grabbed my arm, dragged me out of the house, and shoved me into his car. Bam! My head hit the car frame hard. The stinging pain brought fresh tears to my eyes. “What are you doing?!” “What am I doing? Aren’t you begging for a divorce? I’m taking you to the courthouse right now!” He slammed on the gas. My head spun from the sudden acceleration. All the way to the courthouse, George heatedly accused me of everything I had done “wrong.” “Alice has never said a single bad word about you, yet you target her at every turn!” “I’m sick of your constant tantrums, and I’m sick of living under your surveillance!” My head was pounding so hard from the bump that his voice sounded distant and muffled.

I didn’t hesitate for a second when it was time to sign the papers. On the contrary, it was George who hesitated until the clerk urged him several times before he finally signed. When we stepped out of the courthouse, he was still wearing a cold sneer. “You signed pretty fast… Let’s see how you beg me to take you back this time!” With that, he threw the signed divorce papers right in my face and walked away without looking back. At that moment, I felt nothing but humiliation and regret. This wasn’t the first time we had brought up divorce. But the previous times, I was always the one begging and crying for him to stay. No wonder he treated me like trash. But this time, I was done demeaning myself. I wiped my tears, calmly took out my phone, and called George’s arch-rival. “Hello?” Hearing Diego’s voice again felt like a lifetime ago. Seeing that I was silent, he urged, “Sophie? Is that you?” “Diego, you once said that if I ever got divorced, you would marry me. Does that offer still stand?” The other end went silent for a moment. Then he asked, “Where are you right now?” “Diego, you once said that if I ever got divorced, you would marry me. Does that offer still stand?” I repeated. “Absolutely.” I let out a long breath. After a brief pause, I said, “Okay. Come with me to see my dad.” I figured that if I just brought a man back, my dad probably wouldn’t be able to tell if it was George or not. Lately, he couldn’t even recognize me sometimes.

When I arrived at the hospital, Diego was already waiting for me at the entrance. He was wearing a sharp, tailored suit, looking calm and elegant. A mature and wise aura radiated from him. He was completely different from the cold, quiet boy in my memory. “Thank you for coming.” “Yeah.” Still a man of few words. That hadn’t changed. “It’s cold out here.” He took off his coat and draped it over my shoulders. It was a natural, effortless gesture, and his tone was casual. “Thanks.” I pulled the oversized coat tighter around me. A wave of warmth spread through my body, chasing away the chill. When we walked into the room, my dad was already struggling to breathe. As soon as he heard I was there, he struggled to sit up. His mind suddenly became incredibly sharp. He grabbed my hand with trembling fingers and began to tell me his final wishes. No matter what he said, I just kept nodding. But when he expressed his deep regret that he wouldn’t be able to see my formal wedding ceremony, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed. Diego gently patted my shoulder to comfort me. My dad’s attention immediately shifted to him. He pulled Diego’s hand and placed it on the back of mine. “You two… you have to be good to each other. Take good care… of Sophie…” After doing this, my dad seemed to have used up all his strength. He collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for air. My mom choked back tears as she helped pat his chest. “We know, George knows.” But my dad rasped, “You… you’re confused. This is Diego, not… George.” “I said, I want my girl and Diego to be happy together…” My mom froze. Diego spoke up, “Don’t worry, sir. I will take great care of Sophie.” Hearing this, my dad nodded, a satisfied smile appearing on his face. But before that smile could fully fade, his head fell to the side.

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