My ten-year-old daughter was kidnapped. The kidnappers demanded a $5 million ransom, or they’d kill her. In the video they sent, my daughter’s face was streaked with tears, beaten black and blue, her voice hoarse as she cried for her mommy to save her. Seeing the video, my mother-in-law was overcome with grief, nearly fainting. My husband and sister-in-law were practically bouncing off the walls, looking like they wanted to tear the kidnappers limb from limb. But me, the one who should have been the most frantic – her biological mother – I was strangely calm. Not only was I leisurely sitting in the study reading a book, I even slowly brewed myself a cup of tea. My husband knelt before me, pleading anxiously, “Honey! There’s not much time! If we don’t get the money together soon, our daughter will die!” I replied coolly, “Whoever wants to scrape the money together can go ahead. It has nothing to do with me.”

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I was the ghost singer for Ethan Cole, the hottest rising star in the music industry. My voice built a world for my girlfriend, Jenna. But she teamed up with Ethan, got me drunk, tried to wreck my vocal cords. Later, when I finally shone on stage myself, she was left crying in regret. 1 It was just past midnight, New Year’s Eve. I’d just finished the last song backstage at the big televised concert. On stage, soaking up the applause, was Ethan Cole, the music industry’s golden boy. But none of the audience knew that behind all his performances, it was my voice they were hearing. He was my paycheck, and I was just his shadow. I needed the money, needed it to give my girlfriend, Jenna, a better life. The winter night air cut like a knife. As I stepped out of the venue’s side door, snow began to fall. A single, lonely snowflake drifted down. I imagined how cold it would feel landing on my palm. I wondered what Jenna was doing. Was she waiting at home like usual, ready for us to ring in the New Year together? Suddenly, Ethan’s sleek car pulled out from a private exit, stopping not far from me. Just as I was about to wave, a familiar figure slipped out of the side door and slid into the passenger seat in a flash. I rubbed my eyes. That silhouette… it looked so much like Jenna. While I stood there, stunned, the car drove past me. Ethan rolled down his window. He gave me a nod, a playful, almost mocking smirk on his face. For some reason, Ethan never really seemed to like me, even though I poured my heart and soul into singing for him. But this time, through the window, I got a clear view of the woman in the passenger seat’s profile. The pale moonlight hit her face – the high brow bone, the slight curve of her eyes… every detail was agonizingly familiar. It was Jenna. She didn’t see me. She was too busy laughing and chatting intimately with Ethan. In that instant, my heart plunged into an icy abyss. That familiar smile, the bashful affection that used to belong only to me… I pulled out my phone and saw a text Jenna had sent before I went “on stage” tonight. “Hey, something came up tonight, can’t make it for midnight.” This was the first time in seven years Jenna wouldn’t be with me for New Year’s. Every single New Year’s Eve for seven years, no matter how far apart we were, no matter how busy, Jenna would drop everything and fly to be by my side. She used to say, “Lovers should be together day after day, year after year. As the new year starts, our love stays true.” That seven-year tradition had made sharing New Year’s Eve sacred to me. But now, she’d broken it with the most casual, indifferent text. 2 The apartment was cold and empty when I got back. I must have been getting sick. My throat was painfully dry. I tossed and turned in bed. I sat up, staring blankly out the window, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of sadness. My gaze fell on the two pillows on the bed. One was mine, and the other… well, that was mine too tonight. I sat there alone until dawn, unable to reach Jenna. Her phone just kept ringing, unanswered. On the other end was a mystery I couldn’t fathom. She didn’t come home until morning. Seeing me on the couch, she flinched for a second, then quickly put on a warm smile. She leaned in close, nuzzling my cheek with her nose affectionately. The familiar gesture reminded me sharply of her laughing with Ethan in his car. “Where were you?” My voice was rough, hoarse after singing all night. I was exhausted. “Nowhere special. I told you, just hanging out with friends.” She snuggled closer, resting her head on my shoulder as if nothing had happened. I caught a faint whiff of cigarette smoke clinging to her clothes. A smell I hated, something I couldn’t afford to be around as a singer. I turned to look at her, searching her eyes for any flicker of panic or guilt. There was nothing. My eyes drifted lower. Around her delicate neck was a necklace I’d never seen before. I recognized the brand. It was way out of our price range. Sensing my stare, Jenna subtly pulled away. “Where’s the necklace I gave you?” I knew, instantly, that this new one was far more expensive, far flashier than the one I’d given her. “Oh, um, I lost it somehow. So, I just bought a new one.” Her voice was soft and pleading, her usual weapon against me. Had she really lost it? Then why had I just seen a picture on Ethan’s latest social media post… of the necklace I gave her… clasped around his pet dog’s neck. The caption read: “Cheap trash like this is only good enough for the dog to play with.” Yeah, compared to the diamond necklace Ethan probably gave her, mine was cheap trash. But I’d saved up for three months, sung my throat raw, filled with joy anticipating giving it to her. Back then, I dreamed of slowly upgrading her gifts, getting her prettier, more luxurious things, fueled by my love and this voice. But before I could make it big, Jenna’s heart had already started to wander. She started comparing, wanting more, secretly meeting Ethan behind my back. Maybe in Jenna’s eyes, my gift really was, as Ethan put it: cheap, unworthy. But my love for her had never been cheap. It had never faltered. 3 Suddenly, I felt utterly drained. I didn’t want to dig for the truth anymore. The night of singing had left my throat raw, and I coughed, trying hard to suppress it, hunching over slightly. Jenna appeared with a glass of water. “Drink this, it’s good for your throat.” It was sweet, with honey, just like she always made it. But it didn’t taste the same anymore. The sweetness couldn’t wash away the bitterness in my heart. I still frowned. As I put the glass down, Jenna suddenly held out a vinyl record – a rare, limited edition I’d been wanting for ages. “Like it? Special New Year’s gift for you! I waited in line forever to get it.” Her eyes sparkled. She remembered our tradition of exchanging New Year’s gifts. How could she remember that, but forget our promises? Forget that the start of the New Year was meant to be shared with the person you loved most, wishing them happiness? I mumbled my thanks, said I wasn’t feeling well, and retreated to my room. Inside, I placed the record Jenna gave me on the desk. There were now two identical records lying side by side. Yes, the other one was a gift Ethan had given out to his crew after the show as a New Year’s bonus. Everyone got one. I suspected the one Jenna gave me was the one Ethan gave her, just last night. What had she and Ethan really done last night? I couldn’t bear to think about it. A knot of resentment tightened in my chest. I’d willingly become Ethan’s shadow for Jenna, and now she and him… they were betraying me together. Ethan trampled on my dignity, and Jenna trampled on my love. I grabbed my guitar, strumming aimlessly. The strings let out a dull, heavy sound, like my silent protest. Lost in thought, I started playing louder, pouring my frustration into the music. Jenna knocked and opened my door, annoyance clear on her face. “Can you stop, Ethan? I’m exhausted, I want to sleep.” Jenna looked drained. I wondered what Ethan had put her through to leave her looking so worn out. Normally, I would have immediately put the guitar away, coaxed her gently to bed. But now, anger simmered inside me, just needing a spark to explode. “That’s your problem. I need to work right now. I have to sing. How else am I supposed to build a future?” I didn’t say the last part out loud: How else can I keep you? Truthfully, I’d noticed it for a while. Ever since Jenna met Ethan, they’d gotten closer and closer. Jenna was beautiful, with a great figure, easily rivaling some of the minor celebs in the industry. And because of that, I felt her slipping away. I pushed myself harder, taking more singing gigs, singing until my voice gave out multiple times, using the money to cover Jenna’s increasing expenses. But I was fighting a losing battle. Once Jenna got a taste of the glamorous world, she was hooked. I couldn’t satisfy her anymore. Only a star like Ethan, raking in crazy money, could give Jenna the life she now craved. I knew saying this was cruel, but I couldn’t stop myself. I even started deliberately strumming discordant notes, trying to provoke her. I needed a fight, a release for this pent-up emotion. “I have to sing! I’ll sing myself to death if I have to!” Jenna stared, shocked. Then, snapping, she rushed in, snatched the guitar from my hands, and smashed it violently on the floor. “Sing, sing, sing! All these years, and what’s it gotten you? Where’s the fame?!” The guitar splintered. And somewhere inside me, a string snapped too. 4 This guitar… Jenna gave it to me on our first anniversary. I vividly remembered her, young and shy, carefully bringing it out from behind her back. “Ethan,” she’d said, “as long as you keep singing, I’ll keep listening. I always want to be your first audience.” She had carved our names intertwined onto it: Jen & E. It symbolized sailing through rough seas together, reaching for the stars. That guitar had been my constant companion ever since. Whenever my music career stalled, when I wasn’t making money, when I even thought about giving up, she would comfort me. “Ethan, we can take it slow. I don’t want you under so much pressure. I don’t want you turning your dream into a burden just for money. I don’t want your music tainted by greed.” The young Jenna had eyes only for me. She supported my musical dream unconditionally. But the Jenna standing before me now, her eyes were filled with disdain. She despised my lack of fame, despised my inability to quickly turn music into cash. But had I really achieved nothing? Okay, I couldn’t compare to Ethan making bank, but over the past seven years, this voice had bought Jenna a car, a spacious apartment. Her closet was gradually filled with designer labels, luxury goods. She never missed out on the latest bags or jewelry each year. I had worked hard, using my voice to build a world for her, and now she scorned that world for being too small, too low. It wasn’t that the world was too small; it was her ambition that had inflated, ballooned until she took my sacrifices completely for granted. After her outburst, Jenna seemed stunned too. She opened her mouth, wanting to explain, but no words came out. I shook my head, pulling away from her touch. The person before me was not the person I knew. We looked at each other, and all that remained was disappointment. After that, I started leaving early and coming home late, deliberately avoiding Jenna. Until a few days later, after I finished a recording session for Ethan, just as I was about to leave. Ethan stopped me. “Come grab dinner with me later.” I instinctively refused. I never liked those industry schmooze-fests. “Are you sure? Your girlfriend, Jenna, will be there too, you know.” Through his sly gaze, I sensed malice.

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My best friend and her precious boyfriend had a fight, and she bolted over to my place in the middle of the night. My instant reaction was to push her right back to him: “He’s such a great guy, really. He’d rather punch a wall than lay a hand on you. That shows restraint, you know? Reliable.” After all, in my past life, her precious boyfriend hacked me to death, and she turned around and begged my parents to forgive the murderer. They’re such a perfect match. How could they possibly break up? 1. “But… but he smashed the computer and the TV! I just bought them!” Chloe’s eyes were swollen like peaches from crying, endlessly complaining about her boyfriend, Kevin. I glanced at the clock on the wall. Yep, 3:30 AM. Fighting off sleep, I patiently tried to counsel her: “See? That just proves he’s not materialistic. He doesn’t care about possessions. Solid guy, totally reliable.” Chloe’s eyes widened. She stared at me, utterly bewildered, clearly shocked that I was suddenly defending Kevin. “…Didn’t you used to hate him? Every time we fought, you got angrier than I did.” I gently patted my bestie’s head. “I’ve thought it through. Whatever makes you happy is what’s best. You should go home now. Look how much he loves you—your phone’s been blowing up nonstop since you got here.” Of course, I wasn’t going to get angry for her anymore. After all, last time, when they were splitting up, I took Chloe on a trip to clear her head. Kevin, in a rage, tracked us down from miles away. The guy screamed that I was the one poisoning their relationship and then stabbed me repeatedly right there on the street until I was dead. And what did Chloe do? She went to my parents, crying, talking about the bond they shared as husband and wife, offering to be their daughter from now on, if only they would forgive the man who killed me and spare him the death penalty. Seriously? Who could stomach that? It took days after I was reborn for the sheer rage to subside. I was so stressed out I broke out in these huge, painful zits all over my face from the constant anger simmering inside me. This time around, they weren’t even married yet. I wasn’t about to make the same mistake, getting all worked up and calling him scum every time they argued. Because the moment they made up, Chloe would repeat every single word I said right back to her precious Kevin. Do. Not. Get. Involved. In. Other. People’s. Karma. I had to repeat that to myself thirty times before bed every night. 2. The 99+ missed calls from Kevin? In Chloe’s eyes, that was just proof of his love. After my pep talk, her tears turned into a smile, and she practically skipped back home. On this exact day in my past life, Chloe had done the same thing—banging on my door around 2 AM, nearly giving me a heart attack. She’d wanted Kevin to go walk the dog with her, but he was deep into his nightly gaming session right after dinner and refused. Chloe complained a bit too much, and the guy slammed his keyboard down, smashed the monitor, found a nice, clean patch of drywall, and started banging his head against it. Hard. It scared Chloe, and frankly, it scared me too. Someone that emotionally unstable? If they got married, who knew what else he was capable of? But that conversation, where I tried to talk sense into her, was what made Kevin start hating me. The next day, they were lovey-dovey again, and I dragged myself to work with dark circles under my eyes. Then, I got the threatening text from Kevin: “You bitch, if I hear you’re trying to break Chloe and me up again, you’ll regret it.” This time, however, while I still went to work exhausted with dark circles, I received a different kind of message from him: “I feel better knowing Chloe has a friend like you looking out for her. Next time she throws a tantrum and runs to you, just let me know right away, okay?” I glanced at it and deleted the message. My career was really taking off right now. If I landed this project successfully, I’d get transferred to the company headquarters. I didn’t have time for this toxic couple’s drama. HQ was in my hometown. After remembering how I was brutally murdered by that psycho, leaving my parents devastated and crying constantly, I had decided. I was moving back home to be with them, to really be there for them. 3. The next six months passed relatively smoothly, without any major disasters. During this time, Chloe still called me sporadically, at all hours, always to vent. The topic was inevitably her boyfriend, his family, or some random acquaintance of theirs. Unlike before, I no longer dropped everything to listen to her relationship woes. I’d offer a few vague platitudes, claim I was busy, and hang up. My project at work wrapped up successfully. But the night of the celebration dinner with my colleagues, I got home to find a woman holding two cats waiting for me at my door. She was sitting on the steps, surrounded by bags. I frowned slightly. “Mrs. Davis? What are you doing here?” This was Susan Davis, Chloe’s mother. Chloe and I had known each other since middle school, and our families were acquainted back then, so I knew her parents. Her mom was known for being loud, eccentric, and difficult to deal with. I remembered back in high school, Chloe secretly went on a date with some guy from outside our school. Her mom grabbed me and demanded I take her to all the places Chloe might hang out to find her. Back then, I was such a pushover. Worried about Chloe but too intimidated to refuse her aggressive mother, I trudged around with her for half the night in the freezing cold – it must have been below twenty degrees Fahrenheit. I ended up sick with a fever for days and almost missed my final exams. As soon as Susan saw me, her face lit up. She slapped the dust off her pants and stood up. “Sarah, honey! You’re finally home! I came to talk to you about something important.” What was this about? This hadn’t happened before. I kept my frown subtle and nodded politely. “What is it?” She didn’t answer directly, just looked at me, then glanced at my apartment door. “It’s getting chilly out here in the hallway tonight. Can we talk inside?” I looked at the two cats cradled in her arms. I knew her family always liked pets, but I honestly didn’t expect her to travel all this way from out of town with two cats in tow. The cats stared at me with wide, round eyes. They were cute cats, but unfortunately, I have allergies. Bad ones. Cat fur sets off my allergic rhinitis like crazy. Still, it was cold out, and I couldn’t bear leaving the cats in the hallway. After a moment of internal debate, mostly for the cats’ sake, I nodded and unlocked my door. 4. Susan plopped herself right onto my sofa and immediately started complaining, her face etched with worry. “Sarah, dear, I came here hoping you could help me talk some sense into Chloe. Convince her not to marry Kevin.” Hearing the name of that monster, the one who still gave me cold sweats, made my expression instantly harden. The agony of being stabbed to death on the street in my past life seemed to crawl back up my nerves. Was it my imagination, or did my muscles actually start to twitch and ache? I poured Susan a glass of water. “But from Chloe’s social media, it looks like they’re already setting a date. They seem really happy together. Maybe we shouldn’t interfere?” Susan immediately got agitated. Her eyes flew wide open, and her voice shot up several decibels. “How can you say that? That boy’s family has no money! His parents don’t even have retirement savings, and he’s got a deadbeat brother! What kind of life is Chloe going to have with him?” She had a point. Chloe’s family had never really approved of Kevin. It seemed my encouragement had finally pushed Chloe to decide on marriage. I tried again, calmly. “Chloe says Kevin treats her really well. She’s an adult now, and this is her choice. I don’t think it’s my place to interfere in her life.” That did it. Susan shot up from the sofa, pointing a finger right at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be her best friend? You’re just going to stand by and watch her walk into a disaster? Sarah, how could you become so selfish? If Chloe ends up miserable in this marriage, won’t you feel guilty?” She grew more agitated as she spoke, seemingly picturing her daughter’s ruined life, all supposedly my fault. “If her marriage fails later, if she gets divorced, it’ll be your responsibility, you know that! I was wondering why she was suddenly so determined to marry him! Was it you egging her on?” Guilty? My responsibility? Was this another attempt at emotional blackmail? I almost wanted to applaud her audacity. It was just like that time in high school, dragging me along to find Chloe while muttering that if we didn’t find her, I, as her best friend, would regret it for the rest of my life. I stood up just as abruptly, looking down at her coldly. She was much shorter than me, and her aggressive posture seemed to deflate slightly under my gaze. I let out a cold laugh, staring directly into her eyes. “Mrs. Davis, I’m Chloe’s friend, not her mother. Now, if she wanted to get on her knees, call me Mom, and ask for my parental advice, then sure, I’d jump right in and try to talk her out of it. But otherwise…” “You—You disrespectful little brat!” The old woman seemed genuinely furious now. She raised her hand and swung, slapping me hard across the face. My ear rang, and I instinctively cupped my stinging cheek. Damn. She hit hard. Growing up, my own parents had never laid a hand on me, let alone slapped me. Who the hell did she think she was? 5. I picked up the mug of still-warm tea from the table, lifted it high in front of Susan, and then, as she watched, I splashed the entire contents onto her face. The temperature wasn’t hot enough to burn her, but it was definitely enough to be unpleasant. Her makeup instantly streaked. Black mascara ran down her cheeks in watery lines, and her foundation became a patchy mess of dark and light splotches. I couldn’t help but let out a snicker. “Aaaah!” Susan shrieked dramatically, like a pig being slaughtered. “I’m calling the police! This is assault!” Her tightly permed short hair now looked like a soggy bird’s nest, and even her down jacket was soaked. Without a word, I opened the door and pushed her out. “Go ahead. Call them. Let’s see which is worse: you slapping me, or me splashing you with some lukewarm tea.” It was already midnight. Most of the neighbors were asleep, and I really didn’t want to argue with her anymore. But Susan struggled fiercely. Seeing she couldn’t overpower me, she grabbed one of the cats beside her and threw it directly at me. Startled and caught off guard, the cat instinctively lashed out, sinking its claws deep into my arm twice. Along with the sound of fabric tearing, blood started to drip from the wounds. “…I didn’t do that! The cat did it! It wasn’t my fault; you must have provoked the kitty yourself.” Susan didn’t seem flustered at all. She picked up the cat, acting completely uninvolved. I looked at my torn sleeve, then at the bleeding scratches. I calmly closed my apartment’s security door, pulled out my phone, and dialed 911. I looked back at her through the peephole, a small smile playing on my lips. “Well, isn’t this great? You got your wish. Even if you wanted to leave now, you can’t.” 6. I had a security camera installed in my entryway. Everything that just happened was clearly recorded. After filing the police report and getting a medical assessment for my injuries, Susan was required to compensate me for all damages and medical expenses. I presented her with the bills for the rabies shots, the emergency room visit to treat the wounds, and the receipt for the ruined clothing. “The total comes to eighteen hundred dollars. You can transfer it to me.” She looked at me in disbelief, snatched the receipts, her eyes wide. “Are you dreaming? What kind of crappy clothes cost eighteen hundred dollars? You’re just trying to shake me down!” I scoffed. “My purchase records and receipts are all perfectly clear. We just left the police station not too long ago. Want to go back? Or perhaps, I could just ask your daughter for the money?” She ground her teeth, her face pale with fury. “Hah, you’ve got nerve. Just you wait. I’m going to tell Chloe your true colors, let her see what kind of little monster her so-called best friend really is!” I smiled sweetly. “Tsk, Mrs. Davis, isn’t it true that you wouldn’t be here, bags and all, if she hadn’t blocked you? I’m just a supportive friend who believes in her freedom to choose her own partner. What did I do wrong? It was her mother who lost her temper and attacked me, remember?” I knew Chloe and her mom’s relationship was a ticking time bomb; they blocked each other every other week. Usually, when that happened, one would ask me to relay messages to the other. It drove me nuts. Sure enough, hitting that sore spot made Susan flush with anger. She raised her hand again as if to strike me. “You—!” I quickly stepped back, pointedly holding up my phone displaying my Venmo QR code. “Scan this. Unless you want to risk having a heart attack from all this stress. That would end up costing you a lot more.” 7. Susan might have been loud and aggressive, but she wasn’t completely reckless when it came to the law. She was afraid I’d actually drag her back to the police station. Although she was furious, she transferred the money. My transfer orders hadn’t come through yet, so I just took a week off work. Back home, having been awake for nearly twenty-four hours straight, I collapsed onto my bed and fell into a deep sleep. In my dream, I was like a floating camera, watching myself being chased by Kevin wielding a knife. Chloe stood behind him, crying, yet clapping her hands. “Yes! Yes! He still loves me! Even if he hurts other people, he wouldn’t hurt me.” The bone-deep pain and terror from that memory seemed to seep out of the dream and into my body. I jolted awake instantly. I gasped for air, trying to steady my racing heart, when I suddenly heard a noise coming from the living room. Every hair on my body stood on end. Adrenaline surged through me. Thinking quickly, I slid silently out of bed, grabbed the tennis racket hanging on the wall, and crept nervously towards the door, listening intently. Knock, knock-knock. My bedroom door was tapped gently. Then, a familiar voice called out. “Hey, cuz, you still sleeping? I brought breakfast. Get up and eat something?” I let out the breath I’d been holding tightly and opened the door. “Megan? What are you doing here? You didn’t even call! You scared me; I thought someone broke in.” Standing before me was my cousin, Megan, almost half a head taller than me, who was attending college in the city. She gave me a weary smile. “You’ve been asleep for almost twenty hours! Your neighbor messaged Aunt Carol yesterday, said the police came to your place late last night. Aunt Carol and Uncle Joe freaked out. They tried calling you, but you didn’t answer, so they asked me to come check on you.” I looked at my phone. It was dead. I must have been so exhausted I just crashed without even plugging it in, causing my parents to worry. 8. I scratched my head sheepishly. “You probably still have classes, right? Sorry to make you come all this way and worry everyone.” “No big deal, I’m a senior, barely any classes left. Mostly focusing on finding an internship now.” She smiled, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me towards the dining table. My eyes welled up looking at the steaming bagels and hot coffee. My stomach growled instantly. I sat down and started eating like I was starving. My cousin popped a piece of bagel into her mouth, then suddenly remembered something and swallowed quickly. “Oh yeah, that friend you used to hang out with, Chloe? Did you guys have a fight? Aunt Carol called her first, thinking maybe you two went out together. But Chloe was apparently super rude and snapped at her.” I couldn’t help but frown. I hadn’t told my parents about all this drama because I didn’t want them to worry and it was complicated to explain. Looks like I needed to fill them in, before they got dragged into this mess somehow. After all, Chloe and her mom both had my parents’ contact info and knew where they lived. Just as I was about to explain things to Megan, someone started pounding heavily on my front door. “Sarah Miller! Open this door!” Well, speak of the devil. “Cuz, who is that?” Megan looked tense. I shook my head and got up to open the door. Whatever needed dealing with, it was better to get it over with sooner rather than later.

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Reborn on my wedding day. That’s how it felt. I watched my wife-to-be, Sarah, slip away, saying she needed to touch up her makeup. But I saw her get into a sedan parked just around the corner from the hotel. A few moments later, she came back, eyes red-rimmed, her lipstick smudged, tears glistening. I knew who was in that car. Mark. Her ex-boyfriend she could never quite let go of. I also knew… in five minutes, a car would lose control and speed toward us. In my previous life—the one that felt like it just ended—she pushed me. Right into the path of that speeding car. I died with my eyes wide open. 1. The moment I was hit, everything seemed to shift into slow motion. The piercing screech of brakes, the acrid smell of rubber burning against asphalt, the driver’s terrified face reflected in the windshield as it spiderwebbed, the brutal impact tearing at my body— Then, screams from bystanders, the sickening crunch of bone, and the heavy thud as I hit the ground. My mind fogged over. Blood poured out of me like water from a burst pipe, staining the concrete sidewalk red, staining… the velvet ring box clutched in my hand. I blinked, slow, sluggish. Through blurry vision, I saw Sarah. Her back was to me. She was frantically checking Mark, her voice tight with panic, “Are you okay? Did any glass hit you? That car just came out of nowhere—” She stopped mid-sentence, as if finally registering something else. She froze. Slowly, stiffly, she turned. Her eyes scanned the shattered glass on the ground, the spreading pool of blood, and finally landed on me, drenched in it. Her lips trembled. Her perfectly made-up face went blank. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. I stared at that face, a mixture of grief and shock, and hated myself for the flicker of familiar pity, the instinct to comfort her. “Hey, don’t cry…” The whisper died in my blood-filled throat. The next second, Mark pulled her firmly into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Shh, don’t look.” And Sarah wrapped her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him with an intimacy that felt like a physical blow. Her choked sobs came muffled against his shoulder, “What do we do? What do we do… I didn’t mean to…” He just held her tighter, murmuring reassurances. Like they were the couple. The ones meant to be. —If only Sarah wasn’t wearing the custom wedding dress we’d picked out together. —If only I wasn’t the groom waiting for her. The whole scene felt absurd. A sick joke. Amidst the growing chaos of sirens and shouting people, my world faded to black. Silence. My unfinished wedding day. My very complete death day. 2. The flashback hit me like a physical blow, snapping me back to the present. I blinked, seeing Sarah’s sweet, pretty face right in front of me. My bones and muscles ached with phantom pain. I pressed my fingers to my temples, fighting a wave of dizziness. It slowly dawned on me… I was back. Reborn. Reliving it. Right now, Sarah and I were standing at the entrance of the hotel lobby, greeting wedding guests. She was radiant, smiling, the perfect bride. She noticed me staring, lost in thought. Her cheeks puffed out slightly, a faint pink blush rising on her ears. “What are you looking at me like that for? You goofball, spacing out again!” I forced down the panic churning inside me and managed a shaky smile. “Nothing.” But… Sarah’s mind was already elsewhere. She glanced down at a new message on her phone, her expression shifting, becoming restless. I watched her eyes dart towards the street outside, saw her fingers tighten almost imperceptibly. Suddenly, I felt ice-cold calm. Her fidgeting lasted only three minutes. Then, as if she’d made up her mind, she looked up at me, forcing a casual tone. “My face feels a little oily. I’m just gonna pop over and have the makeup artist touch it up.” Before I could reply, she hitched up her wedding dress and started walking quickly towards the exit. Instinctively, I grabbed her wrist. “Don’t rush off. I’ll come with you.” Her hurried expression froze. She bit her lip, then tried for a playful pout. “Silly, I’m getting my makeup fixed. What would you come for? Are we ditching the guests? Forgetting about greeting our relatives?” I took a breath, my grip tightening slightly without meaning to. “Your makeup looks perfect, honey. You don’t need a touch-up.” “Our parents and aunts and uncles will be here soon. And aren’t we changing outfits and getting a whole new look after the receiving line anyway? You can get touched up then.” Sarah stomped her foot lightly in frustration, but her attention was immediately snagged by her phone vibrating in her hand. She shot a quick glance at the screen, her face paling. Wrenching her arm free from my grasp, she bolted outside. Without even a word of explanation. I stared down at the polished marble floor of the five-star hotel, silent for a long moment. I knew. That text was from him. Mark. The ex she couldn’t forget. Right now, that struggling musician was sitting in a beat-up sedan around the corner, waiting for her. Struggling or not… it didn’t matter. One short text message, and the woman I’d cherished, spoiled, and loved with everything I had for three years, would drop me without a second thought and run to him. I also knew that in about ten minutes, a car would lose control and crash towards the three of us. And Sarah, desperate to protect the man behind her, wouldn’t hesitate to shove me under its wheels. 3. It took me a year to win Sarah over. We first met at the convenience store where she worked the late shift. The first time I saw her, she had her hair up in a messy bun, her face clean of makeup, naturally pretty with a soft pink glow. She was adorable. Right then, though, she was being yelled at by an older woman pointing a finger right in her face. “Which one of your eyes saw me open this drink? You expect me to pay? Just some broke kid working here, trying to scam people out of money?” Sarah’s round, almond eyes filled with tears, her face flushed bright red. Her voice was small but firm. “I saw… you opened that bottle of coffee…” The older woman glanced towards a corner, clearly a blind spot for the security cameras, and her voice got louder, more confident. “You little liar! Slandering people has consequences, you know that?! I’m going to report you to your manager!” Just as her finger was about to poke Sarah’s nose, I stepped in front of the trembling girl. I held up my phone towards the woman. “Ma’am, I was just testing out the new video features on my phone. Happened to catch you feeling thirsty, twisting the cap off, and drinking half that bottle.” “You must have forgotten after you took that phone call, right? Easy mistake to make.” The woman’s face went through shades of red and white before she finally threw five bucks on the counter and stormed out, embarrassed. The girl wiped her eyes and gave me a small smile, revealing cute dimples. “Thank you so much. My name’s Sarah. Let me buy you a drink.” “Uh, I’m Ethan,” I stammered, caught off guard by her sweet, genuine smile. It felt like a feather had brushed against my heart. Growing up, I wasn’t exactly starved for female attention. I’d gotten my share of crushes and notes. But Sarah… Sarah was the first girl in years who actually made my heart skip a beat. Still, Sarah turned me down when I first asked her out. She explained her situation. An irresponsible younger brother, a father with a gambling problem. Her family wasn’t well-off. That’s why she was working two jobs, day and night, trying to make ends meet. It had even forced her to break up with her boyfriend. She didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. While I wasn’t some trust-fund kid, my parents were both university professors. We were comfortable. I’d recently started a company with a few buddies from college, and we’d just secured our first round of angel investment. We were from different worlds. But I was stubborn. Possessed by this need to see it through. Every night, I waited outside the convenience store until her shift ended, insisting on walking her home. After a year, she finally gave in. She agreed to go out with me. 4. As we got closer, I realized that despite her independent streak, Sarah was actually quite hesitant and unsure when it came to emotional decisions. Maybe because she got so little warmth from her own family, she valued relationships intensely. She willingly sacrificed so much for her family, just trying to hold onto that thin thread of connection. But I never imagined that this same trait—this deep sense of loyalty—would also make it so hard for her… to completely break away from her past relationship. Sarah was honest with me. She told me about her ex, Mark. They were high school classmates who went to the same local college. After graduation, Mark decided to try and make it in the city. Sarah, pressured by her parents, stayed in our hometown to work and help support her family. The distance, her parents’ disapproval of Mark’s financial situation, and her own fear of holding him back led to their breakup. Her past didn’t bother me. If anything, it made me care about her more. During our relationship, I poured all my patience, tenderness, and attention into her. Over three years, I watched the smiles on her face become more frequent, the shadows in her eyes replaced by a playful light and a growing reliance on me. I felt deeply satisfied. People are only reserved when they don’t feel cherished. With me, she could be impulsive, moody, even a little spoiled. I’d handle it. I wanted to be the one who loved her unconditionally. My business partners joked that I was raising a daughter, not dating a girlfriend. But only I knew how much I wanted this girl, the one with the sweet dimples, to have a life that was sweeter, just a little bit sweeter. Until this moment. Thirty minutes before our wedding, watching her run off without a backward glance, rushing towards the hotel exit. She didn’t even notice her veil slip off and fall to the floor behind her. I looked down at the engagement photo displayed near the entrance – us, smiling, happy. My heart settled into a cold, hard decision. 5. I calmly watched Sarah get into the sedan parked down the street. She seemed completely absorbed by Mark inside the car, totally oblivious to me standing just thirty feet away at the corner. I thought I could hear faint sobs carried on the wind. Even though I’d made my decision, my heart still sank, inch by inch, in the cold breeze. Had I ever realized… that marrying me made her feel this trapped? This miserable? Their silhouettes seemed to merge in a tight embrace. I didn’t go closer. I just turned quietly and walked away. Twenty minutes later, Sarah found me back in the lobby, her nose slightly red. “Okay, I’m back. Makeup’s fixed.” I looked deeply into her eyes, noting the faint redness at the corners, and nodded noncommittally. She seemed nervous, weaving her fingers through mine, holding our joined hands in front of her. She looked earnestly at me. “Ethan, I really do want to marry you. Spend my life with you.” Her clear, almond eyes held the familiar look of dependence I knew so well. Except… it didn’t stir anything in me anymore. I lowered my gaze, smiling faintly. Using the excuse of greeting an arriving guest, I gently pulled my hand free. “Is that so.” She seemed to sense the shift but didn’t know how to ask. She just stuck close to my side like a shadow, pouting slightly. “Ethan, what’s wrong? You’re acting kind of weird. Are you keeping something from me?” My gaze drifted away. “I got you a surprise gift,” I said distractedly. “You’ll find out during the ceremony.” She seemed slightly reassured, her eyes curving into a sweet smile. Ten minutes later. The wedding ceremony. The officiant asked, “Mr. Ethan Miller, do you take Ms. Sarah Jenkins to be your lawfully wedded wife, to respect her, to love and protect her, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, forsaking all others, ’til death do you part?” Under Sarah’s pleading gaze, I lowered my eyes slightly, smiled faintly, and answered, slowly and clearly, gently but firmly, “I don’t.” I watched calmly as the happy smile on her face froze, the color draining away, leaving her almost translucent and swaying under the spotlight. 6. The entire room erupted in shocked whispers and gasps. Sarah’s father, Gary, and her brother, Danny, jumped up from their seats, furious, but a couple of my friends, whom I’d briefed beforehand, quickly and firmly held them back. Meanwhile, my groomsmen escorted Mark onto the stage, gripping his shoulders tightly as he tried to struggle. Under Sarah’s terrified gaze, I gave her a small smile. “Sarah, honey, your groom… is someone else.” Amidst the rising murmur of confusion, I took the microphone from the officiant. “My apologies to everyone for this… unexpected turn of events.” “This gentleman,” I gestured towards Mark, “is the bride’s ex-boyfriend. Though… judging by their recent tearful reunion, perhaps I’m the one who should be leaving.” “Sarah, you don’t have to sneak off to see him before the wedding anymore. You don’t have to put on that heartbroken, can’t-let-go act for him.” “You know, over the last three years, whatever you wanted, I always found a way to give it to you.” “This wedding reception, this venue… consider it my gift to you.” “I always just wanted you to be happy.” “But from here on out, I can’t walk that path with you anymore.” “I wish you happiness.” Sarah was trembling violently, barely able to stand. She reached for my hand, tears streaming down her face. “Ethan, it’s not what you think…” “I just… I just had a moment of weakness, I wanted to say goodbye properly… You’re the one I care about! I really wanted to marry you, spend my life with you!” “You were always the one who forgave me everything, right? You said I could be myself with you, act out, test boundaries, do whatever I wanted, and you’d always accept me!” “I know I messed up this time! Please, forgive me, okay?” I looked at her face, etched with grief and desperation, and felt a strange calm, almost surprising myself. The old me… I could never bear to see Sarah shed a single tear. Even just the slightest hint of redness in her eyes would send me into a panic, ready to offer her my heart on a platter. So… this is what she looked like when she cried. It wasn’t… that big a deal, after all. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mark’s face flushed red, his jaw clenched tight. I smiled faintly and gently wiped the tears from Sarah’s cheek. A flicker of hope ignited in her eyes. She looked at me through her tears. She always knew how to soften me up. After three years together, I knew her better than she knew herself sometimes. She was genuinely scared, genuinely regretting it now. I believed that when she got into that car, she hadn’t actually intended to leave me for good. I even believed that in the previous timeline, when she instinctively pushed me, she hadn’t fully grasped the consequences. But… so what? Instincts reveal the truth. I’d already died once because of it. I had to have learned something from that. You can’t un-spill milk. And my love, Ethan Miller’s love… it wasn’t that cheap.

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From the first day I was brought home, The girl who’d been living my life wanted me gone, maybe even dead. Even my own mother treated me with a chilling indifference. Then, one day, when my life hung by a thread, that girl’s boyfriend dove in front of me, taking a bullet meant for me. And that was when my mother finally broke down. 1 When my biological parents came to get me, Dad was beaming, but Mom looked miserable, depressed even. The way she looked at me… it felt like disgust. I couldn’t figure it out. Okay, so I wasn’t exactly living some main character fantasy. My grades sucked, I was painfully shy, but I knew I wasn’t hard on the eyes. Especially because— I looked exactly like Mom did when she was young. So why would she hate me? The moment I stepped into the Ashton house, a giant wedding portrait hung in the foyer. It was Mom and Dad, twenty years ago. Faded, sure, but you could still see how bright her eyes were, how dazzling her smile. Beautiful, vibrant. … “Splash—!” The instant I crossed the threshold into my new bedroom. A bucket of rank, stinking water drenched me. Behind the door, a shrill laugh erupted. “Welcome home, Ava! Like your little sister’s housewarming gift?” Brooke stood there, wearing a face mask and holding a big, now empty, bucket, smirking at me. I picked off the slimy bits clinging to me. Looked like old shrimp shells, fish bones… stuff left to rot. You know the saying, garbage in, garbage out. Brooke, yeah, the ‘imposter daughter,’ must have been brewing this welcoming committee stink bomb for days just to make a point. Real classy. Brooke looked nothing like Mom or Dad. She did, however, bear a striking resemblance to the family’s former driver, the one who’d just gotten locked up. Simple reason: she was his daughter. I’d been born two weeks premature, whisked straight into an incubator. The driver’s wife gave birth a few days later. He saw his chance and swapped me with his own baby girl. He wasn’t about to raise me with kindness. When I was just a month old, he dumped me by the side of the road. Lucky for me, a kind old woman, my Gran, who scraped by collecting cans and bottles, found me and took me in. Until… well, until I grew up looking so much like my mother. Someone, I still don’t know who, snapped a picture of me working at the coffee shop and sent it to Dad. Dad looked at me, then looked at Brooke, who looked more and more like the driver every day. Next thing I knew, the driver was in prison, and I was ‘home.’ 2 I stared at Brooke’s smug face, didn’t say a word. Just bent down and silently picked up a couple of chunks of putrid fish that hadn’t fully dissolved into slime yet. Even through her mask, she pinched her nose, looking down at me with utter contempt. “Tsk, figures. Grew up digging through trash, didn’t you? This stuff suits you perfectly, Miss Stinky Fish.” “Yeah, well, I never keep the good stuff all to myself.” With that, I walked towards her, grabbed her chin, and yanked off her mask. Brooke started to say something, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’. I seized the moment and stuffed the handful of rotten fish from my other hand right into it. Then, like force-feeding a duck, I clamped her jaw shut. Her throat worked, an involuntary swallow. … Brooke froze for a few seconds, then let out a bloodcurdling scream and burst into tears. Forgetting the stinking puddle on the floor, she dropped to her knees, retching violently. Her shrieking was ear-splitting. Seconds later, Mom and Dad rushed in, looking panicked. “What’s going on… What are you two doing?!” Both Mom and Dad instinctively covered their noses. Brooke saw them like they were cavalry charging to her rescue. She howled even louder, practically leaping into Mom’s arms. “She attacked me! She forced my mouth open and made me eat rotten fish! Dad, Mom, do something! Ugh…” I glanced at her. “She was hiding in my room. She dumped this on me the second I walked in.” Dad saw me, soaked and reeking. His face darkened. He turned and snapped at Brooke. “What is the meaning of this? I told you yesterday, don’t bully your sister.” Brooke, pale-faced and looking utterly wronged, sniffled. “Dad… I wasn’t bullying her. My teacher told us… there’s this old custom, when long-lost relatives return, you splash them with dirty water… it represents washing away past misfortunes. I… I just wanted Ava to have a happy future… sob…” “Is that so? Well, thanks ever so much.” I nodded at her, my face blank. 3 Dad’s brow furrowed even deeper, just as I expected. “What kind of nonsense is that? What garbage have you been listening to? You have no manners at all! You get to your—” “Richard.” Dad was mid-sentence when Mom cut him off. Her voice was soft, but held an undeniable edge, a tone that didn’t invite argument. “Brooke’s been very emotional lately, Richard. As her father, you should be more mindful of her feelings. She was just a baby back then, and Miller never acknowledged her all these years. Why take it out on her?” With that, Mom gently pulled Brooke closer, wiping away the vomit residue from the corner of her mouth. Then she looked at me, her eyes still empty of any real warmth. “Go take a shower. I’ll have the housekeeper clean up the room. Your sister meant well, perhaps she just went about it the wrong way. Let’s not dwell on such minor things.” I looked at Mom’s face, so uncannily like my own. I opened my mouth, then closed it, saying nothing. Instead, I turned to look at Dad. Anger still simmered in his eyes, but when he glanced at Mom beside him, his expression softened considerably. He was silent for a moment, then nodded at me, forcing a gentle smile. “You just got home, let’s not fight. Be good, go get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready soon.” I didn’t argue further. I just nodded obediently. “Okay… I understand.” Dad. He was completely wrapped around her finger. I’d noticed it the moment I met them, and now I was certain. No matter how upset he was with Brooke, if Mom stepped in, he’d always play peacemaker. With Mom backing her up, Brooke seemed to instantly forget the humiliation of eating rotten fish. She peeked out from behind Mom, shooting me a look dripping with scorn. “Get. Out. Of. My. House.” I saw her mouth the words silently. I discreetly flipped her the bird and turned towards the bathroom. 4 “Tsk, struck out, didn’t you, princess?” I’d just reached the bathroom door when an unfamiliar voice popped up behind me. I turned around. It was a boy, looked about my age. He was good-looking, dressed well, leaning casually against the wall, watching me. “Who are you?” I looked up at him. The boy walked right up to me, leaning in close. “What, you seriously don’t recognize me?” I shook my head. I honestly couldn’t recall ever seeing him before. He let out a few disdainful snorts, then pinched his nose and backed away a few steps. “I’m Brooke’s boyfriend. You better be nice to me, or your life here won’t be easy.” “Oh…” I nodded. “You stink. Go get cleaned up, now.” The boy seemed seriously annoyed and walked off quickly. This house… there was something really strange, almost suffocating, about it. “Oh— I’m so sorry, Miss Ava! I should have shown you the way. You just got here, you don’t know where anything is yet.” A voice, getting closer, broke my thoughts. A young woman hurried over, clearly one of the household staff. “That guy—” I pointed in the direction the boy had gone. “Oh, oh, you must mean Miss Brooke’s boyfriend? His name is Liam. Mrs. Ashton and Miss Brooke both adore him.” The maid hesitated, then added in a lower voice, “You should probably keep your distance from him. Last time, two girls who tend the garden just chatted with him for a minute, and Miss Brooke threw a fit and had them fired. Besides, his personality is… weird. Kind of unpredictable, moody.” I nodded. “Got it. Thanks for the heads-up.” 5 Dad was often away on business. Mom treated me with cool indifference. And Brooke? Don’t even ask. So, bored out of my mind, I started chatting with the housekeeper and the other staff. After a few months, we actually got pretty friendly. I was holding onto the two dogs, keeping them from bothering the young woman cleaning out their kennel. Her name was Lily. She looked after the family pets – two dogs, three cats. She wiped sweat from her brow, then glanced at me, looking hesitant. My interest piqued, I leaned closer. “What’s up? You can tell me.” Lily wrestled with it for a moment, then finally whispered: “Miss Ava, please don’t tell anyone I told you this… I just thought it was really strange…” “A couple of days ago, Duchess refused to take her bath and ran off into Mrs. Ashton’s bedroom. I was afraid she’d make a mess, so I chased after her.” Right, Duchess was one of the family’s Ragdoll cats. “Turns out, Mrs. Ashton was in there… and I accidentally saw her looking really intently at a photo album. The pictures in it… they were all of Miss Brooke’s boyfriend, Liam.” “What?” My eyes widened involuntarily. “Shh…” Lily looked conflicted, unsure if she should say more, probably already imagining some kind of high-society soap opera drama. “What are you two whispering about over there?” A voice suddenly called out from nearby, making both of us jump. Liam waved dramatically, raising an eyebrow, drawing out his words, like he’d caught us red-handed. I silently clutched the dogs and backed up a step. Liam strolled closer, giving Lily a long, meaningful look. “Jobs aren’t easy to come by these days, you know. If you don’t mind losing yours, feel free to keep gossiping.” Lily flushed bright red, suddenly flustered. “No… I wasn’t! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been chatting on the job. Please don’t tell Mrs. Ashton or Miss Brooke.” Liam shot me a sly look. “But you’ve got the new princess here, haven’t you? She’ll protect you. What are you afraid of?” I frowned, but before I could say anything, the dog in my arms suddenly started barking frantically at something in the distance. 6 Both Lily and Liam’s faces changed. We saw Brooke charging towards us, furious. She yanked off one of her high heels as she ran and hurled it straight at my face. I didn’t have time to dodge. The heel hit my forehead with a sickening thud. I stumbled back several steps, clamping a hand to my head. It came away warm and wet. The world started to spin. “Miss Ava!” Lily rushed to help me, but Brooke shoved her hard, sending her staggering. Brooke pointed a finger right at my face, sneering. “Everyone in this house knows Liam is mine! Who gave you permission to talk to him? You trashy little slut, trying to seduce him? If you’re that desperate for a man, just tell me! I can pick up a few bums off the street for you!” Liam’s face turned ugly. He looked like he wanted to say something but stopped himself. I’d pretty much figured out his situation lately. Liam’s family had no money. In fact, they were dirt poor. His parents died when he was in elementary school. He’d scraped together money for college through part-time jobs and financial aid. Getting together with Brooke was clearly his fast track out of poverty. My head was swimming, my forehead throbbing like crazy. I just collapsed onto the grass, weakly reaching out to Lily. “Ah… I’m so dizzy… my head hurts so bad… I think I’m dying…” “Miss Ava, hang on! I’ll call 911 right now!” Lily was terrified, fumbling for her phone with trembling hands, only for Brooke to slap it out of her grasp. Brooke was clearly shaken by the sight of my bloody face too. Her voice trembled as she yelled, “Are you trying to scam me? You think I, Brooke Ashton, scare that easily? Get up! Get off the ground right now!” My hand trembled even more violently. My voice grew weaker. “So dizzy… feel sick…” Liam, probably fearing he’d be accessory to actual bodily harm, turned white as a sheet and finally stepped in, grabbing Brooke’s arm. “That’s enough! Even if you wanted to kill her, there are security cameras all over this backyard. Today’s not the day.” Liam bent down, picked up the phone, brushed off the dirt, and handed it back to Lily. Brooke was still furious, but Liam’s words seemed to douse her impulsive rage. She stomped her foot angrily, hastily put her shoe back on, grabbed Liam’s arm, and they both turned and ran. 7 Dad, terrified by Lily’s description over the phone, immediately had the driver rush me to the hospital. He dropped everything at work and hurried over himself. Okay, maybe I hammed it up a little, but my head genuinely hurt, I was dizzy, and the amount of blood streaming down my face meant I ended up needing a few stitches on my forehead. Thankfully, apart from the cut, there was no serious damage. Dad held my hand, his face etched with relief and fear. “Thank God you’re okay… What if this leaves a scar on your face?” He gritted his teeth, his brow furrowed in anger. “That animal, Brooke… Like father, like daughter, I swear. Cut from the same cloth as Miller. If your mother wasn’t so attached after all these years, I’d have thrown her out long ago.” “Mom…” I whispered the word, my expression darkening slightly. When the driver and the housekeeper had rushed in to carry me out, the commotion had brought Mom out to see what was happening. But she just glanced at me, told the housekeeper to take care of me, and went back into her room. Even the housekeeper and the driver looked stunned. Was this really my mother? Dad looked awkward at the mention of Mom. He patted the back of my hand comfortingly. “Don’t be angry with your mother… You don’t know, Ava. When you were little, after… after everything happened, she got sick. She suffered from severe depression for a long time, even spent quite a while at a private clinic upstate before she recovered.” “The doctors said the illness changed her personality. It’s not that she doesn’t love you. Don’t blame her.” I was surprised. I hadn’t known any of that. Pushing down my questions, I nodded obediently. “Okay, I won’t blame Mom. Dad, you’ve worried enough. You should go back to work.” Dad sighed, gently stroking my hair. “My daughter gets hurt like this, how can I possibly focus on work? You just rest. Don’t worry about me.” I felt a flicker of warmth, a bit touched. I didn’t say more, just nodded and closed my eyes. I knew perfectly well that right now, in this house, Dad was my only real ally, the only one who genuinely cared about me. I had to hold onto that. 8 I was in a private room at the hospital. In the dead of night, aside from the chirping crickets outside, it was almost silent. Suddenly, the door handle turned softly. Footsteps, deliberately slow and quiet, still sounded loud in the stillness. The footsteps stopped beside my bed for a long moment, likely checking if I was asleep. I lay still, eyes closed, hooked up to a breathing mask, not moving a muscle. Suddenly, the person beside the bed acted fast, ripping off my breathing mask. She let out a suppressed giggle, then smothered my face with the blanket. “You idiot… My dad didn’t have the guts to finish you off back then, so let me do it for him! You want to steal my parents, steal my Liam, steal my inheritance? Go to hell!” She leaned close to my ear, her voice dripping with venomous hatred. Her perfume filled my nostrils, and I almost sneezed. Then, I reached up and pulled the blanket off my face. My wide-open eyes stared right into hers. “Ah!” Brooke shrieked in terror. Simultaneously, the room lights flipped on. She froze, completely stunned. “You… you were supposed to be dying! How are you okay?” Behind her, Dad, unable to contain his fury, stormed over and slapped Brooke so hard she crumpled to the floor. “Ava told me! You wouldn’t let Lily call 911, you wanted her dead! I didn’t want to believe it! How could I, Richard Ashton, have raised such a vicious monster! Mrs. Davis, call the police!” Dad was shaking with rage. He waved his hand, signaling the housekeeper, who had been hiding in the adjoining bathroom with him, to call the authorities. I’d only meant to bluff Brooke. I’d asked Dad to tell everyone I was seriously injured, unconscious even. Knowing Brooke’s cruel, impulsive, and impatient nature, I figured she might try to sneak in at night and finish the job, eliminate me for good. Turns out, my gamble paid off.

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The whole family found out about Mom’s online romance, and everyone laughed at her. My cousin Chloe scrolled through Mom’s phone. “Aunt Megan, your boyfriend is even pretending to be a celebrity? His profile is full of pictures of Ethan Cole.” Mom stated firmly, “That’s right. He is the actor Ethan Cole.” That just brought on louder, more explosive laughter. But when Ethan Cole actually showed up at our house for New Year’s Day, they stopped laughing. 1 On New Year’s Eve, the family was gathered around watching TV, but Mom’s phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. My Aunt Carol saw her chance and started poking around. “Megan, why are you glued to your phone giggling like that? Don’t tell me you’re online dating like some teenager?” For some reason, Aunt Carol had been nagging Mom all day about finding someone new. Ever since Mom got divorced, she and I had moved in with Grandma and Grandpa. But Aunt Carol kept saying that being around my dad for so long had rubbed off on us, that we had inherited his ‘scammer genes’ and would try to swindle Grandma and Grandpa out of their house. Funny, when our family was doing well financially, she was the one who visited the most, always managing to walk away with bags full of stuff. Sure enough, as soon as Aunt Carol saw Mom and me at Grandma’s today, her face soured. She slammed the door loud enough to shake the walls. The first thing out of her mouth after sitting down was, “So, Megan, when are you going to find your next meal ticket? You can’t just hang around your parents’ place in your thirties.” And now, here she was, starting up again. Except this time, she was actually right. There was a handsome man in Mom’s phone, and he even sent me snacks and toys sometimes. Mom blushed and quickly put her phone away, saying nothing. But wouldn’t you know it, my younger cousin Kevin snatched Mom’s phone right out of her hands. Mom doesn’t use a passcode, so he opened it easily. The screen was still on her recent chat history. Mom had saved the contact with a heart emoji. Kevin gasped, “Whoa, Aunt Megan really is dating someone online!” Mom scratched her head, nodding shyly. “I was planning to tell you all once things were a bit more stable.” I grabbed the phone back from Kevin, scolding him, “That’s rude!” But just as I got it, a slender hand plucked it away. My older cousin Chloe started scrolling through Mom’s online boyfriend’s social media feed. Suddenly, she burst out laughing, shaking so hard she almost dropped the phone. “Aunt Megan, your boyfriend is pretending to be a celebrity! His whole feed is pictures of Ethan Cole.” Chloe excitedly called over to Aunt Carol, “Mom, come look! It’s all Ethan Cole, the guy from that show you were binge-watching last month.” Uncle Rick and Aunt Carol crowded around, staring at the pictures of the handsome man on the phone. Aunt Carol started lecturing Mom in a patronizing tone, though the corners of her mouth were turned up in amusement. “You’ve definitely run into a scammer. Did the divorce mess with your head? How could you fall for something so obvious?” Mom got annoyed, insisting firmly, “I’m not being scammed. He is Ethan Cole.” That just led to another round of explosive laughter. Uncle Rick clutched his stomach, saying he was laughing so hard it hurt. “Come on, Sis. Think about it. A huge star like him? He’s got fans everywhere. And look at you – divorced, with Jenny to raise. Why would he possibly be interested in you? You’re dreaming.” Chloe took a picture of Ethan’s feed with her own phone and started typing furiously, even sending voice messages. “OMG, girls, you won’t believe this! My aunt is dating Ethan Cole online! LMAO!” After listening to a reply, Chloe chattered back into her phone, “Right? The scammer really knows how to target middle-aged women, though. Ethan Cole is like, the ultimate heartthrob for that generation.” Aunt Carol took Mom’s phone from Chloe and handed it back. “Megan, why don’t you try video calling him? You probably haven’t even done that, right? Bet it’s just some creep pretending on the other end.” 2 Mom quickly refused, “He’s rehearsing for a New Year’s broadcast right now! It’s not convenient for him to video chat!” “Rehearsing for a New Year’s broadcast? Oh my god, Aunt Megan, you’re killing me! Hahaha!” Chloe acted like she’d heard the funniest joke ever, bending over laughing and unable to straighten up. Uncle Rick sighed. “Sis, you can say stuff like this at home, but please don’t go embarrassing yourself outside.” Even Mom, who’s usually mild-tempered, started getting flustered. “I’m telling the truth! Don’t call!” But Aunt Carol had already hit the video call button. Sure enough, it rang for a long time with no answer. Not giving up, Aunt Carol tried again. Same result. Mom shrugged. “See? He’s busy right now.” Aunt Carol chuckled behind her hand, then pulled me aside. “Jenny, honey, talk some sense into your mom. She’s about to give you a scam artist for a stepfather.” Her words made me really uncomfortable. I pulled away and said seriously: “He’s not a scammer! I’ve seen him! He looks exactly like his pictures.” Once, our school had a big clean-up day, and we got out earlier than usual. When I came out of the school gate, I happened to see Mom talking to a man. But when he saw me, the man quickly looked down and walked away. It was only because I asked Mom later if her friend could come to the amusement park with us that he came back. He was tall and handsome, and standing next to Mom, they looked like what my teacher calls a perfect match. He’s definitely not a scammer! Aunt Carol’s face hardened, and she was about to scold me when Ethan Cole’s video call came through. Aunt Carol, quick as lightning, snatched the phone and answered. The lighting on his end was dim. You could vaguely see him looking down, tidying things up. “Hey Megan, what’s up? I was rehearsing and didn’t see my phone.” Uncle Rick, Aunt Carol, and Chloe all huddled closer. They couldn’t see his face clearly, their heads practically glued to the screen. Just then, he finished tidying up, picked up the phone, looked at the screen, and exclaimed, “Whoa! Who are you people?” Aunt Carol grabbed Chloe’s arm, her voice trembling slightly. “Chloe, doesn’t that voice sound exactly like him on TV?” Mom, clearly annoyed, took the phone back from them and exchanged a few brief pleasantries with Ethan Cole. When she turned back, Uncle Rick, Aunt Carol, and Chloe were just staring at each other, wide-eyed. Aunt Carol said, “I swear, that voice, and what I could see of him… it really seemed like Ethan Cole. But… that can’t be right, can it?” Chloe jumped in, her voice shrill. “Mom, you guys are so behind the times! That was probably an AI deepfake video. There are tons of scams like that going around lately.” Chloe then quickly searched for news articles about AI impersonation scams and showed them to Aunt Carol. Aunt Carol’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh, right, right! That must be it!” 3 Grandma came out of the kitchen carrying a platter of food, calling out cheerfully, “Okay everyone, clear the table, time to eat!” Aunt Carol, Uncle Rick, and Chloe rushed to the dining table. In the end, Mom and I had to help Grandpa, who had just woken up from a nap, to his seat. Even though Grandpa has high cholesterol and sleeps a lot these days, his temper hasn’t softened a bit. At the table, Aunt Carol brought up Mom’s online dating again. Grandpa slammed his hand on the table and yelled, “Nonsense!” “When Jenny’s father got scammed, it was because you weren’t watching him properly! Are you going to get scammed again now?” I didn’t understand why Grandpa blamed Mom for Dad’s debts. Dad was the one who racked up debt and ran off. Mom only found out when the court came to repossess our house. Ever since Mom brought me here to Grandma’s house, Grandpa brings this up and blames Mom whenever he’s unhappy. Mom usually just listened silently, but this time she couldn’t hold back. “Dad, Gary was always like this. I saw the warning signs the first time he messed up. You were the one who insisted I give him another chance.” Grandpa’s face flushed with anger, his mustache bristling. “So your husband wasn’t good enough, and now you’re blaming your old man?” Aunt Carol chimed in to support him. “You know what they say, ‘for better or worse.’ Besides, you chose to marry him, didn’t you? How can you turn around and blame Dad now?” As Aunt Carol said this, I saw Uncle Rick nervously tugging at her sleeve. “That’s not how it happened at all!” Mom’s eyes turned red with hurt. “It was practically an arranged marriage! What choice did I have?” She murmured, “Dad, you ruined my career prospects back then for the sake of my brother. Are you going to control the rest of my life too?” Grandpa’s finger trembled as he pointed at Mom. “What- what are you saying? If I hadn’t brought you back, you’d still be in the city being some kind of… groupie?” I shouted, correcting him, “Not a groupie, Grandpa! An agent! A talent agent!” I had pestered Mom before to tell me stories about when she was young. Back then, Mom listened to Grandpa and went to work in a big city. She made some great friends who saw her potential and recommended her for a job as an agent. Mom said an agent’s job is to find work for the stars they manage, promote them, and help them become famous. Even though the agency was small and the actors Mom managed weren’t well-known, Mom said it was the happiest and freest time of her life. But later, when Grandpa heard about Mom’s job, he called it indecent, accused her of flaunting herself and not behaving properly, and actually went to her company, made a scene, and dragged her back home. As soon as Mom got back, Grandpa immediately arranged a marriage for her, forcing her to marry my dad, giving her absolutely no chance to resist. Mom only found out later that Grandpa was actually desperate for money to help Uncle Rick start a business, and that’s why he used the excuse about her job to bring her home and marry her off quickly. Hearing our conversation, Chloe’s interest was piqued. She put down her phone and stopped texting her friends, asking curiously: “What agent? You don’t mean like… a celebrity agent?” “Alright!” Uncle Rick cleared his throat, telling Chloe to be quiet. Then he said to Grandpa, “Dad, let’s not dredge up ancient history.” Grandma brought Grandpa a fresh pair of chopsticks and stepped in to smooth things over. “Let’s not argue on New Year’s. We still have the New Year’s Eve show to watch together after dinner.” I looked at Mom worriedly. She smiled and patted my hand, then lowered her head and took a bite of food. 4 After dinner, we all sat on the sofa to watch the New Year’s Eve specials on TV. My cousin Kevin complained, “It’s so crowded.” Aunt Carol, cracking sunflower seeds, remarked, “Well, there are two extra people this year, of course it’s crowded. Never heard of a married daughter coming back to her parents’ place for New Year’s Eve anyway.” Hearing Kevin say it was crowded, I started to get up to find him a small stool, but Mom stopped me. She asked Aunt Carol, “What exactly do you mean by that, Carol? I already told you I’ll look for a place of our own after the holidays.” Aunt Carol uncrossed her legs and sat up straight, facing Mom. “Megan, it’s not that I don’t want you here.” “I’m just worried you’ll get too comfortable and start thinking this is your house. What if you end up like your ex-husband and try to mortgage Mom and Dad’s house too?” Mom frowned. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say. I don’t owe anyone money. Why would I mortgage the house?” Chloe interjected with a worried expression, “My friend just sent me a bunch of news stories about people getting tricked by scammers into sending money or making donations online. Aunt Megan, be honest with us, how much has he scammed you out of already?” “He’s not a scammer,” Mom repeated tiredly, having said it several times already today. Just then, Aunt Carol pointed at the TV in shock. “Look! Isn’t that Ethan Cole?” On the screen, Ethan Cole was performing a solo, wearing a festive red suit. He was singing his own hit song, the one he wrote the lyrics for: “Moonlit Serenade.” Aunt Carol muttered to herself, “Why is he wearing the same clothes as in the video call earlier? Can scammers predict the future now?” Chloe patted Aunt Carol’s shoulder, explaining, “His performance outfit must have been leaked online by fans. Seriously, Aunt Megan, the scammer you’ve found is really meticulous.” Hearing this, Aunt Carol became even more convinced Mom was being duped. “Megan, this scammer really seems to have some tricks up his sleeve. Scams are so sophisticated these days, they can even fake what a big star is wearing on the same day! You absolutely cannot send him any more money.” Mom had been watching Ethan Cole’s performance with a soft smile, but Aunt Carol’s words made her expression harden again. After a long silence, Mom said, somewhat exasperated, “He is Ethan Cole! And I haven’t been scammed! If you really don’t believe me, should I ask him to come over for a New Year’s visit tomorrow so you can see for yourself?” Chloe secretly whispered in Aunt Carol’s ear, “Mom, I think she might actually be losing it.” “You said it! Let’s see Ethan Cole come visit our house,” Aunt Carol grinned, barely able to contain her amusement, eager to watch Mom make a fool of herself. But I was thrilled to hear this. I had secretly overheard Ethan telling Mom on the phone that he wanted to come visit for the holiday, but Mom kept saying they should wait. I’d been quite disappointed about that. 5 The next morning, Uncle Rick went out early, leaving Aunt Carol alone on the sofa, cracking sunflower seeds. “So, Megan, when is Ethan Cole arriving? If he doesn’t show up today, maybe you should start looking at apartments? Are you really planning to keep freeloading off Mom and Dad?” “He just finished his New Year’s performance. He’s on his way now.” “Right, right.” Aunt Carol smirked knowingly, spitting sunflower seed shells all over the floor. Grandma was mopping. Mom felt bad for Grandma, took the mop from her, and started cleaning, reminding Aunt Carol: “Don’t spit the shells on the floor. Mom just mopped there.” Aunt Carol scoffed, swinging her legs idly. Kevin was playing with my building blocks. I snatched them back from him. Having nothing to do, he started wandering around bored. Aunt Carol got up and went to the fridge, calling Kevin over. “Come here, sweetie. Mommy will steam some crab for you.” Suddenly, she exclaimed, “Oh dear, I didn’t realize Megan and Jenny would be here too. There are only six crab legs!” Then, with a look of mock apology, she said, “These are Alaskan King Crab legs, you know. Very special. We only splurge like this once a year for the holiday. Megan, surely you wouldn’t expect Mom and Dad to give up their share for you two.” Even I understood her implication – there were none for us. But I remembered there was still a whole box of crab legs in the freezer that Ethan Cole had sent over last time. Plenty to go around. Mom ignored Aunt Carol and put our entire box of crab legs in the steamer pot. It was packed full. When they were cooked, the aroma was incredible. Aunt Carol proudly declared that Alaskan King Crab always smelled that good, but when she went into the kitchen, she realized the delicious smell was coming from our crab legs. She immediately changed her tune, saying ours must have additives, that the smell was just artificial flavoring. At the table, Kevin finished the crab legs Aunt Carol had brought and reached for the ones Mom had steamed. Aunt Carol slapped his hand away with her chopsticks. “Don’t eat that junk. Who knows how long those freezer-burned things have been sitting there.” But Kevin threw a tantrum, whining and insisting he wanted to try one. Our crab legs were huge and looked much better than Aunt Carol’s; no wonder Kevin was tempted. He cracked open a shell and greedily started eating the meat inside. Aunt Carol got flustered and offered her own crab leg to him. “If you’re hungry, eat Mommy’s. Don’t eat that!” But Kevin threw the crab leg Aunt Carol offered onto the floor, shouting, “Aunt Megan’s crab is way better than yours!” Aunt Carol’s face turned ugly. Skeptically, she took one of our crab legs herself. The moment the crab meat hit her tongue, her eyes widened in astonishment. She was completely speechless. She silently finished the crab leg, then stared longingly at the platter, wanting another but too embarrassed to take one. Just then, the doorbell rang. “Is that Ethan?” I gasped, happily jumping down from my chair to answer the door. Aunt Carol muttered behind me, “No way, the scammer actually dared to show up…?” I opened the door, and standing there was a young man with a friendly face. His hands were full of bags, and he was balancing a large gift basket. He smiled when he saw me. “You must be little Jenny.” He had a baby face, but his voice was surprisingly deep, which startled me, making me step back. Aunt Carol peered over my shoulder, and her lips immediately curled into a smirk. “Seriously, Megan? This is your boyfriend? If he didn’t speak, I’d think he was your nephew! Hahaha…” “And you were so insistent it was Ethan Cole coming. You bring this guy instead? Are you trying to make fools out of us?”

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I’m Ethan Vance’s wife. We had a wedding, but we never made it legal, never filed the papers. That marriage license he gave up for his career eventually became the knife twisting in my chest. Later, he knelt in the rain like a madman, begging me to forgive him. But Ethan, dear… without that license, I didn’t even need to tell you I was leaving. 1. When Wendy Bellweather sat down across from me, I recognized her instantly. She was the hottest A-list actress right now, just one step away from winning her Oscar. “Mrs. Vance, fancy meeting you here.” “You’re… simpler than I imagined.” She smiled as she spoke. Movie stars really are on another level, looks-wise. Every little expression was captivating. If I were Ethan, I probably would have indulged a little too. “Ethan talks about you all the time, but he never wanted to bring me to meet you. Said he was embarrassed to show off his plain little wife.” She pouted, her eyes sparkling, but her words cut like a knife. What a perfect little actress, playing the innocent flower! I rarely kept up with entertainment news, but my secret husband was just too famous. Rumors about him were everywhere. After quitting my job, the housekeeper handled everything, so besides coming to this coffee shop, I hardly ever went out. Who knew the rare occasion I did step out, I’d walk into something like this. “It’s my birthday in a couple of days. Ethan said he’s throwing a party for me. Will you come too, Mrs. Vance?” She kept talking, relentless. But as I stayed silent, expressionless, a flicker of impatience and calculation started showing in her clear eyes. Honestly, I was silent because I wasn’t sure how to deal with a mistress who sought me out directly. Ethan had a new rumored girlfriend every year after winning his big award, but it was always just gossip. This one in front of me was the first to actually confront me. I’d lived by the book for thirty years, never imagining I’d end up in such a trashy, humiliating situation because of the man I loved deeply. “Huh, are you mute or something?” She was finally losing her patience, or maybe she just decided I was easy prey. A nasty look crept onto her face. She stood up and poked my forehead hard. “I really don’t know what Ethan sees in you, marrying a country bumpkin like you. Now you’re like gum on his shoe he can’t scrape off.” “Ethan has a scar on his upper thigh, he said you gave it to him when you were kids. Claire, don’t you think you’re just like that scar? The only blemish on his otherwise perfect life?” She even knew about the scar on his thigh. I couldn’t help but sigh softly. The flimsy veil of denial I’d desperately held onto for five years was finally ripped apart. The next second, the coffee in my hand was splashing across her face. 2. Two screams echoed simultaneously. One was Wendy Bellweather’s. The other came from a girl nearby. She must have been a fan of Wendy’s, watching secretly from a distance for who knows how long. “Wendy! Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” Luckily for her, the coffee had cooled down. Wendy quickly wiped the viciousness off her face, reverting to her usual pure and innocent look. A single tear slid perfectly from the corner of her eye right on cue – a truly pitiful sight designed to evoke sympathy. “Why did you throw coffee on our Wendy, you evil woman?” “Yeah, who even are you?” A barrage of insults hit me instantly. The quiet coffee shop turned chaotic. The light drizzle outside had unknowingly turned into a downpour. Wind and rain hammered against the windows, fraying everyone’s nerves. I grabbed my bag, wanting to leave, but someone shoved me back into the chair. A sharp pain shot through my ankle where it hit the seat frame. “Well, isn’t this lively today? How about I treat everyone to a little show?” The coffee shop’s background music stopped abruptly, replaced by a vaguely familiar voice over the speakers. At the same time, a security camera recording appeared on the large screen in the shop. In the footage, Wendy Bellweather was clearly visible, poking my forehead with a malicious expression. “Well, well, isn’t this the future Oscar winner Wendy, always marketed as the pure, angelic goddess? What brings you to my humble coffee shop to bully one of my customers?” The voice from the speakers dripped with sarcasm. The shop instantly fell silent. The atmosphere turned strange. Wendy’s public image was built on never getting angry, always being gentle like an angel. She’d never shown such a nasty expression in public. I shot a grateful look towards the second floor, at the somewhat nonchalant man standing there – Marc Riley, the owner of this trendy coffee shop. He was a former colleague. We weren’t exactly close. Years ago, back in Ridgedale, Marc had been known as one of the city’s top young lawyers. It was a mystery why he suddenly quit at the peak of his career to open a coffee shop here. But he was famous and good-looking, so the place quickly became a hotspot. I’d run into him here by chance. I didn’t know many people in Westbridge, so after a few visits, I became a regular. “I didn’t want to! But she’s a stalker fan! She’s been harassing me constantly, I couldn’t take it anymore! I’m about to have a breakdown! Please, Miss… Claire, just leave me and Ethan alone!” Wendy recovered quickly, expertly painting me as the villain with just a few sentences. “Oh, so she’s a stalker.” “Wendy is too nice! If I were harassed like that, I would have called the cops ages ago! And she’s begging her? Why?!” “Crazy bitch!” … Suddenly, a cup of hot coffee splashed directly onto my face. I stared in disbelief at the person who threw it. 3. As the coffee dripped down my face, I heard gasps and excited murmurs erupt all around. “Omg, omg, is that Ethan Vance?!” “No way, no way, no way! Ethan Vance is here!” The late autumn rain already carried a chill. Ethan was wearing a black trench coat today. I saw the disgust in his eyes directed at me. Before I could even speak… “Ethan, I… I just wanted to—” Wendy stammered, looking flustered, unable to form a complete sentence. But the next second, her expression shifted to shy adoration. Amidst the crowd’s hushed whispers, Ethan took her hand. “More people are showing up. My car’s right outside, let’s go.” “Okay, whatever you say, Ethan.” Wendy nodded, her voice soft enough to melt butter. But before leaving, she subtly tugged on Ethan’s hand, her gaze sweeping intentionally towards me. I was completely frozen, my mind blank. What was happening? My husband just threw hot coffee on me in public and walked away holding another woman’s hand right in front of me? Sticky coffee dripped from my hair onto my eyelashes. Through the blurry haze, I saw Ethan’s cold gaze flick over me. It was so unfamiliar. “Ethan, I—” I stood up numbly, my lips parted, but the word “hurts” never came out. The surrounding fans grabbed me roughly, cursing. “You stalker bitch, you’ve got some nerve! Still trying to bother them?” “She needs a good slap to learn her lesson.” In the jostling crowd, I saw Ethan frown and glance at me one last time. Then, holding Wendy’s hand, he walked out into the rain. Just before getting into the car, Wendy turned back and shot me a triumphant smirk. Tears finally streamed down my face. I gave a self-mocking curve of my lips. This really felt like a scene from a movie. “Smack—!” The next second, a stinging slap landed hard across my face. The fans, still not satisfied, swarmed around me. More blows and insults rained down. I threw my hands up to shield my face, feeling dazed, as if I were back in the orphanage of my childhood. Only this time, my little hero had walked off with another girl. He wouldn’t rush in front of me to protect me anymore. Claire, how did you let your life become such a mess? 4. In the end, it was Marc and his staff who rescued me. “Sorry, I made you close up early.” “Don’t mention it, Claire.” He placed a glass of hot water in front of me, then hesitated before speaking. “Have you seen what’s trending online?” “Trending?” I paused, then shook my head. “I deleted all those apps.” “Well… want to look at mine?” He held out his phone. The top three trending topics were all explosive. Number one: #EthanVanceWendyBellweatherOfficial. Ethan had many rumored girlfriends, but it was always just blurry paparazzi photos, and he never confirmed anything. This public display was indeed the first official confirmation. Number two was: #EthanVanceRumoredGirlfriends. But it was number three— I saw the hashtag #StalkerFan and my hand trembled as I tapped on it. The top post featured my face, with a big red X marked over it. “Don’t read the comments.” Marc quickly covered the screen with his hand, but I’d already glimpsed the vile personal attacks. I don’t know how I got home. By the time I snapped back to reality, it was completely dark. Marc’s words echoed in my head. Asking how I planned to clear my name. Asking what I was going to do. Asking me— I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything. The door opened, and a familiar figure hurried in, bringing the cold air from outside. “Honey.” As usual, Ethan immediately wrapped me in a hug the moment he walked in, nuzzling my neck like a puppy. All the cold indifference from earlier in the day was gone. “Honey, happy seventh anniversary.” He gently kissed my lips, placing a large bouquet of roses and a cake in front of me. His eyes were full of intense, sincere emotion. I stared at him, stunned. After a moment, my numb, stiff lips moved silently. “So you did remember… today is our wedding anniversary.” 5. “How could I forget?” His expression was still flawless, his long, fair fingers stroking my cheek with infinite tenderness. “That was the best day of my life,” he said. I looked at the man I knew so well he felt etched into my bones, but all I could see was Wendy Bellweather’s face from earlier that day. A perfect performance, impeccable acting. Suddenly, I felt like I didn’t recognize the man in front of me. “Before, I just thought you treated me like I was deaf and blind. Turns out, you think I’m an idiot too.” Ethan’s hand paused. His eyes finally showed a hint of panic when they met my tear-filled gaze. “No, Claire, that’s not it. You know it was all for publicity, it was all an act.” “An act? Do you really think I’m that stupid?” I sprang up from the sofa, dodging his touch. “Ethan Vance, you make me sick. Absolutely disgusting. Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.” His face instantly crumpled, filled with hurt and brokenness. The more he acted like this, the more disgusted I felt. “Claire, I thought you’d always understand, just like you always have,” he said. So that’s how he saw all my efforts over the years. Just… understanding. No wonder he never bothered to explain anything for so many years. No wonder he took it for granted that after abandoning me, humiliating me in public, I’d just continue to play dumb and treat him the same way. “Ethan, why?” I finally couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Is it because you don’t love me anymore? Is it desire? We could have gotten divorced, Ethan. Why did you have to humiliate me like this?” “Of course not, Claire!” He shot up, stepping closer urgently. “How could I not love you? I told you, I love you. Till death do us part.” “You know… my dream.” His dream. Always his dream. I slumped back onto the sofa with a bitter smile, feeling like I was stranded in an endless desert, unable to take another step. Because there was no hope in sight. 6. Ethan and I grew up in the same orphanage. We gradually developed feelings for each other in middle school. He confessed to me on high school graduation day, and I shyly nodded yes. I got into a top university, with some financial support from the orphanage. He went straight into acting, starting with bit parts, and would send me money for living expenses whenever he could. Then, two years after I graduated, we got married. Back then, he hadn’t won his major awards yet but was already a massive star, right in the middle of his career ascent. A recent romantic movie had gained him a huge following of female fans who saw him as their ideal boyfriend. For the sake of his career, we didn’t get a marriage license. But he insisted on giving me a wedding. So, in a rented villa outside the city, we invited a few close friends we grew up with from the orphanage and had a simple ceremony. He promised me that once he achieved his dream, he would give me the grandest wedding imaginable. I really used to look forward to that. But as time went on, the importance of the ceremony faded, and the dream wedding became a blur. Lately, all I hoped for was that he wouldn’t change, that his feelings wouldn’t waver. That would be enough. But even that small wish— “Ethan, I get disappointed too. When disappointment piles up, eventually, you give up,” I said calmly. Those words had been stuck in my heart for years, swirling around ever since the rumors started, and kept coming. But saying them out loud now surprised even me. My heart didn’t ache as much as I thought it would. It was like cutting out a piece of rotten flesh that had been festering in my chest for years. When I finally decided to remove it, the pain wasn’t as unbearable as I’d imagined. Ethan’s expression finally showed true panic. He always knew how to read me. “Claire, I messed up. I’ll cut ties with Wendy Bellweather right now. Not just her, I’ll clear up all the rumors with everyone.” “When I’m with them, I pretend I’m acting. Otherwise, I can’t stand it for a second. Claire, trust me, I never crossed the line with any of them.” See? He always knew what bothered me. Tears fell from his beautiful eyes. Ethan knelt pitifully on the floor, hugging my legs like a lost puppy. “Give me one more chance, Claire. Just one last time. I have a feeling this movie I’m negotiating for now… it’s the one I’ve been waiting for.” “After it’s done, we’ll go get the license.” “I’ll tell the whole world that you’re the only love of my life.” In the end, my heart softened. I never expected the consequences of that weakness to come so swiftly. 7. Two days later, same afternoon, same place, Wendy Bellweather sat across from me again. Probably still shaken from the last encounter, Marc proactively offered us a private room. “I’m pregnant. It’s Ethan’s.” She placed a medical report in front of me. A pregnancy test report. I’d seen them countless times on TV, imagined holding one myself countless times. To avoid the complications of having a child without being legally married and the child facing documentation issues, we had always held back from having kids. But no one understood the longing for a happy, complete family more than two people who grew up in an orphanage. “I know you two aren’t legally married. Ethan told me everything. So, as long as you don’t try to guilt-trip him with your past relationship, as long as you just leave cleanly, he can finally have a happy, perfect family.” I let out a cold snort, a sarcastic smile playing on my lips. “My husband gets a new woman every year. If you count, Miss Bellweather, isn’t your year almost up?” “Maybe you should worry about whether you’ll be sticking around first.” * That day was my birthday. It was also the anniversary of the day I was sent to the orphanage. I was already six then, old enough to remember things clearly. My parents, celebrating my birthday, had drunk too much and somehow started arguing. In the chaos, my dad shoved my mom towards a cabinet. A vase on top fell and hit her head. Blood trickled down from the corner of her eye. Mom slowly closed her eyes. Later, Dad frantically dropped me off at the orphanage gate. But as he turned to run away, a car speeding around the corner hit him, sending him flying. I lost both my parents on the same day. * Today, I went home early and cooked a big meal, waiting for Ethan. My childhood trauma made it impossible for me to spend this day alone. Ethan knew that. In the past, no matter how busy he was or how far away, he always came back to be with me. But this time, he broke his promise. Maybe it was some kind of intuition, but that day, I didn’t immediately call him to check if he was okay. Instead, I re-downloaded all the social media apps I had deleted. Trending #1: #EthanVanceProposal.

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In my past life, my sister Sophia was adopted by a wealthy couple, while I was taken in by a scrap metal dealer. Ten years later, she was cast out by her rich family, while my adoptive father and I had built Ashton City’s number one steel company. Reborn into this life, Sophia wanted to walk my path, begging the scrap metal guy to take her instead. But she didn’t know that without me, there would be no Johnson Steel, the company that would become famous throughout Ashton City. 1 I was representing Johnson Steel, one of Ashton City’s top ten businesses, making a donation to the group home where I used to live. As the donor, I was invited to attend the ceremony. At the charity gala that evening, I stepped out of a Maserati, dressed stylishly, drawing everyone’s attention. Old friends from the group home rushed to greet me, and Ms. Evans, the director, stood nearby, praising my success. The stark contrast between me now and my sister Sophia, who was currently working as a cleaner at the home, inevitably led to hushed whispers. “Sophia was so clever back then, getting herself adopted by Mr. Miller and leaving her own sister to go home with some junk dealer. Look at her now.” “Who would’ve thought Mr. Miller’s biological daughter would show up? They don’t want Sophia anymore.” “Chloe really hit the jackpot. The junk dealer’s kid is now the steel heiress. Sophia must be sick with regret.” Eyes darted towards Sophia, who was sweeping the floor nearby. She was looking at me too, her eyes bloodshot, gripping the broom handle so tightly her knuckles were white, the wood creaking. After the gala ended, Sophia found me and asked if I could get her a job at the steel plant. She seemed humbled, her small, thin frame shivering in the wind. My heart softened, and I agreed. But then Sophia grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the staff housing area. “I knew you still cared about me, sis. Come help me pack my stuff. I can’t stand another second in this place.” But once I stepped inside her small room, Sophia’s expression changed. She shoved me hard into the room, locked the door from the inside, and tossed a lit match into a wooden cabinet. Flames spread rapidly. Thick smoke choked me, making it impossible to scream. Sophia frantically pinned down my hand as I tried to open the window. “Chloe Johnson! You became the steel heiress thanks to me, so what gives you the right to pity me now?” “If my life sucks, you don’t get to live either!” “Since you’re my dear sister, let’s just burn to ashes together! Hahahaha…” But she had no idea how many life-and-death situations I had survived to get where I was. Sophia’s figure blurred in the flames. Darkness overwhelmed me, and I collapsed. 2 When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on my cot in the group home, waking from an afternoon nap. Ms. Evans burst into the room, excitement in her voice as she woke us all up. “Quick, tidy yourselves up! Two families are here looking to adopt!” All the kids in the room jumped up, getting dressed neatly, combing hair, washing faces. It was a habit we’d developed over the years; fall behind, and you get left out. An older kid who’d scouted outside came back, buzzing with news. “One family looks really fancy, loaded with money! But they probably won’t want someone my age.” “What about the other one?” “Uh, the other one’s just a guy. Looks kinda like a junk dealer.” These kids had already learned to size people up, kissing up to the rich and looking down on the poor. They started mocking the idea of a scrap metal guy adopting anyone. Sophia scoffed, shaking her head with a look of pity, as if disappointed in their short-sightedness. She came over, took my hand sweetly, “Chloe, let’s go check them out too.” She radiated a calculating maturity far beyond her years. In that moment, I understood. She had been reborn too. If I was right, her target this time was the man the others were sneering at – Carl Johnson, the scrap metal guy standing not far off. Sophia had always been charming, knowing exactly how to win over adults. As soon as Ms. Evans saw Sophia approach, she beamed and introduced her to the wealthy couple, the Millers. “Sophia here is sharp and well-behaved, always so polite. She’s a good kid.” The Millers listened to Ms. Evans, looked at Sophia’s delicate features, and nodded in satisfaction. But the supposedly polite Sophia reacted with horror, yanking her hand away as Mrs. Miller reached out to touch her. “Don’t touch me! I don’t want to go with you!” Sophia ran over to Carl Johnson, the man the other kids scorned, and threw her arms around his legs. She burst into tears, snot mixing with teardrops, acting as if she’d found a long-lost relative. “Mister, I just feel a connection with you! Please, take me with you!” Carl Johnson froze for a second, then his face lit up with joy. It was the first time anyone had ever chosen him so decisively. Mrs. Miller, clearly unprepared for such a scene, stood with her hand awkwardly suspended in mid-air, staring helplessly. Mr. Miller turned angrily to Ms. Evans, demanding an explanation. Ms. Evans grabbed Sophia, who was sobbing dramatically on the floor. “Are you crazy? What are you doing?” Sophia struggled, shouting, “Leave me alone! I want to go with this man!” She pushed Ms. Evans away and clung to Carl Johnson’s leg again, muttering under her breath, “Nobody’s stealing my fortune this time.” Ms. Evans threw up her hands in exasperation, utterly disappointed, and decided to let her be. Having gotten her way, Sophia ran back to the Millers, suddenly reverting to her sweet, well-behaved persona. She pulled me forward, introducing me with a sugary smile, “Mr. and Mrs. Miller, I’m sorry. I just felt a special bond with that gentleman, that’s why I couldn’t go with you.” “This is my sister, Chloe. She’s smart and well-behaved, just like me. Taking her would be just as good.” Sophia wanted me to walk her path from the previous life – enjoy a brief period of wealth and luxury before being thrown out and ridiculed. Ms. Evans noticed me then and chimed in, “Chloe is just a bit quiet, but she’s a very good girl.” After the shock Sophia had just given them, the Millers decided they preferred a quiet, obedient child. And just like that, they took the silent me home with them. 3 That very day, Mrs. Miller took me shopping and bought me lots of new clothes. At the mall, near the dumpsters by the service entrance, I saw Sophia helping Carl Johnson collect trash. Carl pointed towards the stockroom door, instructing her, “When the guy comes out, go ask him nicely if we can have the trash.” “Heh heh, this is all high-grade cardboard. It’ll sell for good money.” Sophia stared intently at the stockroom door, poised for action. Just then, her eyes met mine as I stepped out of a dressing room. Caught looking so grubby, Sophia flushed with embarrassment and charged at me furiously. “Chloe Miller! Are you laughing at me?!” She raised her hand to hit me. A sales clerk quickly stepped in, pushing Sophia aside. “Where did this little beggar come from?” Sophia gritted her teeth, about to lunge again, but Carl Johnson hurried over and pulled her away. He dragged the struggling Sophia with one hand while apologizing profusely to the clerk with the other. Getting banned from the mall would mean losing a significant source of income for him. The next day, Mrs. Miller dressed me up like a little princess and sent me to school. Sophia showed up still wearing the same dirty clothes from yesterday, looking completely disheveled. Several classmates were also from the group home, and they had already spread the story of what happened yesterday. Sophia used to be the teacher’s pet because of her sweet talk, strutting around school like she owned the place. Many kids already disliked her. Megan was the first to strike. Pretending to walk by, she “accidentally” knocked over Sophia’s desk, sending books scattering everywhere. Sophia gasped, pointing at Megan, about to yell, “Are you crazy?!” Megan pinched her nose, looking at the pile of books on the floor. “Why does it smell like garbage?” The whole class erupted in laughter. Instead of getting angry, Sophia called them all idiots. “You don’t know anything! I’m going to be a steel heiress someday! Don’t underestimate me just because I’m down on my luck now! When I make it big, you’ll all be begging me for favors!” The laughter stopped, then burst out even louder. “Has she lost her mind?” “I thought she was crazy yesterday when she ignored the rich couple and begged that scrap guy to adopt her.” “Steel heiress? Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England.” Sophia stood amidst the scattered books, looking down on her laughing classmates with pity in her eyes. She casually ordered me, standing nearby, “Chloe, pick up these books for me.” I didn’t move. Sophia got furious and grabbed my arm. “Have you no conscience? Look at yourself, all dressed up! It’s because I gave you my precious opportunity!” I frowned. “Gave? Or wasn’t satisfied with just stealing? You’re just hoping I’ll repeat your last life, aren’t you?” Sophia froze for a moment, muttering, “You’re reborn too?” “Well, then.” She pulled me close, whispering mockingly in my ear, “They might not know, but you do, don’t you? Chloe Miller, just wait. This time, I’ll be the one grinding you under my heel.” I pulled my arm away, correcting her, “We’ll see about that. And by the way, it’s Chloe Miller now.” From observing them these past couple of days, I realized the Millers were genuinely kind people. Sophia being kicked out of their house in the past life must have had other reasons. She was just too impulsive, always judging things by appearances, never reflecting on her own role in how things turned out. 4 Sophia followed my old path, helping Carl Johnson collect scrap after school every day. Because her dramatic display at the group home had genuinely touched Carl, she had it easier than I did initially. She mostly avoided the dirty, heavy work. Her skin got a bit darker, but she didn’t have the cuts and scratches I accumulated. But Sophia couldn’t even stand this small amount of hardship. She cornered me in the girls’ bathroom, shaking me and screaming hysterically. “When will this miserable life end?! When did you guys start the steel plant? Tell me, damn it!” Her time collecting scrap had clearly made her stronger; her grip on my shoulders actually hurt. Megan came out of a stall, saw what was happening, and quickly kicked Sophia away. “She’s a total psycho.” Sophia really did seem crazy. One moment she was furious, the next she was giggling eerily. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t tell me. The suffering I’m going through now is only temporary.” “But you, Chloe Miller,” she sneered. “Enjoy your fancy life while it lasts. Soon enough, you’ll be homeless again.” Yeah, right. This time, I was definitely going to cherish the opportunity. In my past life, I hadn’t even finished school before Carl forced me to drop out and collect scrap with him full-time. Even later, after we started the company and hired many highly educated professionals, I always regretted my unfinished education. It wasn’t that I was unwilling to tell Sophia when the steel plant started. The truth was, given the current situation, I couldn’t guarantee there would even be a Johnson Steel. Back then, shortly after Carl had forced me to quit school, there was a huge construction project starting on the south side of Ashton City. Carl took me there to collect scrap. I quickly noticed a lot of discarded steel among the debris. I found the foreman and asked him to sell the scrap steel to us cheap. The stuff was useless to them anyway, so the foreman was happy to get paid for it. But Carl thought I was wasting money. I had to use my own pocket money, saved from my time at the group home, to buy a small amount of scrap steel and beg him to haul it home. Later, after spending a lot of time researching, I contacted a steel mill in a nearby city up north and managed to resell the scrap. Even though we didn’t have much that first time, Carl made a significant profit. From then on, he started trusting my judgment. He went back to the foreman and bought a huge load of scrap steel to flip. We used the profits from flipping scrap as our initial capital. We traveled all over, hustling and taking risks, and that’s how Johnson Steel eventually came to be. Carl had no business sense himself. Collecting the steel, buying it, finding warehouses, building the plant, sourcing equipment – I handled everything. We attracted a lot of jealousy and faced retaliation many times. There were near-death experiences. Only someone who lived through it could understand how incredibly difficult that period was. Now, Sophia was just sitting around, waiting for Carl to magically conjure up a steel empire for her. She was basically daydreaming.

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Five years ago, I helped the Shaws get back on their feet. I was the woman working tirelessly behind the scenes for Ethan Shaw. He used to say, “Scarlett, you’re the only one I’ll ever need.” Five years later, he wants to call off our engagement for another woman. I agreed. Then I turned around and started making arrangements for his imminent downfall. 1 Ethan spent five years overseas expanding into the international market. “Mr. Shaw got back yesterday afternoon,” my assistant reported. “He had a girl with him. They went back to the Shaw family home together.” After saying this, my assistant sensed my displeasure and lowered her head, falling silent. I waved a dismissive hand. “Get some gifts together. We’re going over to the Shaws’ tonight,” I said coldly. Five years apart, and it seemed my fiancé had developed some new ideas. When I arrived at the Shaw residence that evening, it was dinner time. A girl sat next to Ethan. When she saw me, she stood up along with him to greet me. My eyes swept over his face. His features were sharper, more defined than when he was younger. Dressed in a black custom suit, he looked tall, imposing, coolly sophisticated. I clicked across the floor in my heels and sat down opposite Ethan. I glanced around at the standing figures, a perfectly innocent smile playing on my lips. I raised an eyebrow at the girl. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Ethan frowned slightly, discreetly taking the hand of the girl beside him. “This is Miss Reed. And this is—” Before he could finish, the girl interrupted, eagerly introducing herself with a face full of excitement. “My name is Sophie Bell. I’m Ethan’s girlfriend.” I glanced down at her for a split second, not bothering to respond directly. I turned my head to look at the expressionless Ethan and let out a soft scoff. “Well, isn’t that convenient. You’re his girlfriend, and I’m his fiancée.” Sophie didn’t raise her voice or question me. Instead, she calmly withdrew her hand and smiled. “I know. He told me everything.” I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed, radiating confidence. “So you knew, and you still dare to call yourself his girlfriend.” Sophie linked her arm through Ethan’s, putting on an innocent face. “But Ethan already told you he wanted to break off the engagement, didn’t he?” Ah, right. I did get a text from him yesterday. Something about calling things off. However. “He says break it off, we break it off? That depends on whether I agree.” I shifted my gaze to Ethan’s father, waiting for him to weigh in. Five years ago, when the Shaw family business hit rock bottom, it was my family, the Reeds, who bailed them out. That huge overseas market? Without the Reed family’s backing, Ethan never could have handled it. Seeing the tension, Mr. Shaw quickly tried to smooth things over. “Scarlett, have you eaten? Why don’t you join us?” “Sure,” I replied sweetly. I pushed the plate of shrimp in front of me across the table. “Miss Bell, would you mind peeling these shrimp for me?” Ethan immediately pushed the plate back towards me, his eyes flashing with annoyance. “Sophie isn’t a servant. If you want shrimp, peel them yourself.” I propped my elbows on the table, resting my chin in my hand, a half-smile playing on my lips. “She won’t do it? Then how about you?” Mr. Shaw frantically signaled Ethan with his eyes. Ethan clenched his jaw, then visibly forced himself to relax his fist and began peeling the shrimp with grim determination. Soon, a plate of perfectly peeled shrimp sat before me, arranged neatly in a circle. I picked up the plate and walked over to Ethan’s side. I lifted it high above his head, then tilted my hand. The entire plateful of shrimp slid down over his hair and onto the floor. Sophie shrieked, immediately grabbing napkins to wipe the grease from his face. I leaned down close to his ear and whispered a warning, “I don’t care how big you think you’ve gotten. If you make me unhappy, I can break your wings just like that.” I looked up and met Sophie’s furious glare, her teeth gritted as she stared at me. “Keep looking, and I’ll gouge your eyes out.” I held up two fingers, mimicking the action. Ethan instinctively grabbed my wrist. “Scarlett, don’t go too far,” he growled. I yanked my arm back, freeing myself from his grip. I picked up Ethan’s soup bowl, took a delicate sip, and savored it. “You touched what’s mine. Now you face the consequences.” Standing tall, I gave one last look at each member of the Shaw family, nodded politely in farewell, and left. On the drive back, my assistant gave me a detailed report on Ethan’s overseas business development. I fiddled with my watch, gazing out at the passing scenery. “Five years,” I mused aloud, “is long enough to change a person’s heart.” Sophie Bell was a student the Shaws had sponsored. She studied abroad, working part-time to support herself. During his years overseas, Ethan had kept in touch with her. Apparently, he was moved by her “sincerity” and “resilience,” and naturally, they hooked up. A pure, innocent little flower? I tossed the file aside, scoffing at how blind and foolish Ethan was. The attitude of the Shaws tonight was even more chilling. I’d let things slide for too long. It was time for a little reminder. 2 I instructed my assistant to inform the Reed family’s overseas team: Take down the Shaw’s market share, piece by piece, no matter the cost. When it came to financial power, Ethan Shaw was still leagues behind. If I hadn’t had some lingering feelings for him back then, the Shaws would have been begging on street corners long ago. A few days later, I received an invitation to a celebration party hosted by the Shaws. My parents wanted to use the opportunity to defend my honor, but I stopped them. “Not yet,” I said. “Slow burn. I’m going to boil this frog slowly.” Dylan Troy was Ethan’s biggest rival. We’d gotten closer over the past few years. He was always talking about chasing after me, usually while trying to get some business advantage out of me. In a private room at the club, Dylan lounged in a flashy deep purple suit. With his long, elegant fingers, he pushed a limited-edition designer bag across the table towards me. He sighed dramatically. “You know, you promised me the South Hills development project. Now that Ethan’s back, you’re not really going to back out, are you?” I swirled the drink in my glass, truly looking at Dylan for the first time. Unlike Ethan’s ruggedness, Dylan had a certain refined, almost feline grace. When his almond-shaped eyes narrowed slightly, he looked like a cunning fox. Yet, somehow, he seemed to possess a surprisingly genuine core. In all the time he’d spent by my side, he’d never crossed any lines. After all, the infamous Scarlett Reed, known for her arrogance, didn’t have many friends. Dylan was perhaps the only one. Just then, the door pushed open, and a Little Miss Innocent type appeared in the doorway. Dylan’s first reaction was, “Who the hell are you?” The colorful club lights flashed across the girl’s face. Sophie? Recognizing her, I put down my drink and settled into a more comfortable position. “That’s Sophie Bell. Ethan’s little sweetheart.” Hearing this, Dylan immediately wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Ew.” He looked her up and down with those foxy eyes and delivered his verdict: “Doesn’t hold a candle to even one of Scarlett Reed’s fingers. Is Ethan blind or something?” Sophie seemed to summon all her courage before finally lifting her head to meet my gaze, trembling slightly. “Miss Reed, when are you going to break off the engagement with Ethan? He doesn’t love you anymore. Can’t you please just stop clinging to him?” I watched her, amused, tapping my finger idly against my watch face. Dylan saw the gesture and knew my patience was wearing thin. He gestured to the bodyguards standing behind Sophie, signaling them to remove her. The burly guards surrounded Sophie, frightening her so much she dropped to her knees with a thump. She started crying, tears streaming down her face, making it look like we’d actually done something horrible to her. I rose and strolled over to her. Bending down, I tilted her chin up with my finger, my voice lazy and distant. “If you want the engagement called off, you should have Ethan come talk to me. You don’t have the standing to make demands here.” Footsteps hurried closer, and suddenly, Ethan appeared. He must have run, as his hair and shirt were slightly disheveled. He rushed forward, helped Sophie to her feet, his eyes, usually like calm pools, now dangerously cold, his brow furrowed. “Scarlett, do whatever you want to me, but you can’t use your dirty tricks on an innocent person.” Ha! That was rich. “Innocent?” I advanced on him, my voice sharp. “She knew you had a fiancée and still hooked up with you. You dare call her innocent?” “What position is she in to come here demanding I break off our engagement? You dare call her innocent?” “We haven’t even officially broken up yet, and she’s already crawling into your bed. You dare call her innocent?” Behind me, Dylan chuckled. “Sounds like a classic snake in the grass to me. Didn’t realize Mr. Shaw had such low standards.” At that, Ethan’s pupils contracted, his annoyance written all over his face. “Dylan, you’re nothing but Scarlett Reed’s lapdog. Who are you to judge anyone?” Did Ethan really just say that? I was stunned.

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I’d been in love with my childhood best friend for twenty years, but he only ever saw me as a little sister. When I finally gave him a love letter, he told me to forget about it immediately. That is, until I held my boyfriend’s hand right in front of him. Ethan’s eyes went red. He pushed my boyfriend aside and bit my lip, possessively. “Maya White, I don’t want to be your brother anymore.” I slapped him hard across the face. “You don’t even deserve to be treated like a dog.” 1 This marked my third failed attempt at skipping class this month. Once again, Ethan Miller grabbed me by the back of my collar and dragged me back. Rubbing the red mark on his wrist where I’d bitten him, he asked, “Maya White, are you trying to start a rebellion?” Knowing I couldn’t win a fight against him, I muttered “Control freak” under my breath as I followed. Ethan heard me. He stopped and turned around. “I’m your older brother. You think I can’t keep you in line?” I swung my backpack onto my shoulders, hopped on my bike, and took off. “We’re not even related! Mind your own business.” This time, Ethan didn’t chase after me. I knew I’d gotten under his skin again. My family and Ethan’s lived in the same apartment building, his family downstairs, mine upstairs. It was strange, really. Ethan’s parents were regular folks, working steady jobs with fixed salaries. But their son was incredibly bright, practically a genius. My parents were both partners at a law firm, courtroom champions. My grandpa was a renowned literature professor, and my grandma was a retired head teacher. Me? I was always at the bottom of the class, couldn’t even win a simple argument. When I was six, my mom and Ethan’s mom, Mrs. Peterson, had a whim. They took Ethan and me to get our IQs tested. The results: Ethan scored 130, a certified genius. I scored 80. The doctor mentioned potential developmental concerns, suggesting I might struggle. Mrs. Peterson looked at me with pity and told Ethan earnestly, “You have to take good care of your poor little sister from now on.” My mom, seeing the neighbor’s brilliant kid, was eager to latch onto him. She basically forced me to accept Ethan as my older brother right then and there. They might not have meant much by it, but Ethan took it seriously. Even at an age where he still occasionally wet the bed, he remembered his “mission”: To take care of me, his “slow” little sister. From that day on, it felt like I had a second dad. If the ages weren’t impossible, I’d almost suspect Ethan was secretly my father. 2 When I started elementary school, my parents’ careers were really taking off, leaving them little time for me. Mrs. Peterson downstairs would often bring me to her place. Back then, I really disliked Ethan. He didn’t talk much and always had a serious expression. He’d get annoyed if I didn’t study, annoyed if I didn’t eat properly. Honestly, I rarely saw him happy. Our neighbor, old Mrs. Gable, shrewdly commented, “He’s so young, but acts more serious than his own parents.” But despite his cold demeanor, his sense of principle was unbelievably strong. If he decided I needed to be asleep by ten, not a second later was allowed. Once, I went playing in the mud with classmates in a partially drained pond. When he found out, he borrowed a fishing net from someone nearby, scooped me up like a fish, and hauled me out. His strength and stern face scared the other kids in the pond into tears. Kids at school teased me, saying my mom had found me a “little husband.” I was so embarrassed and furious. During Ethan’s nap time, I took some watercolors and drew silly mustaches and devil horns on his face. The whole class burst out laughing. He just calmly wiped it off with a tissue. The moment he started wiping, I knew I was done for. After school, I hid like a mouse. I never expected my own parents to betray me. They practically bowed as they invited Ethan in, then dragged me out of the closet. Ethan had brought a box of watercolors and a stack of drawing paper. He sat at the table and watched me draw doodles for what felt like a day and a night. He said calmly, “Maya White, you like drawing so much? Go on, draw until you’ve had enough.” Later, I learned the term “calculating.” Looking back, it fit him perfectly. 3 It wasn’t until around the start of high school that I really began to like Ethan. At fifteen or sixteen, hormones were raging through the school. Crushes and early relationships were normal. As time went on, Ethan really started to stand out. He was remarkably handsome compared to the awkward teenagers around us. Back then, the girls in my class were obsessed with pop stars. Their yearbooks and notebooks were filled with pictures of idols with brightly colored hair. But gradually, they realized something: none of those idols were as good-looking as Ethan. They started acting like characters in teen dramas, giving Ethan love notes and fancy chocolates. Several times, I saw chocolates I wanted sitting on Ethan’s desk. I’d stare at them and ask, “If you’re not going to eat those, can I have them?” He wouldn’t let me. He returned all the letters and gifts to their original senders. On the way home from school, I’d argue with him. Why couldn’t he just take the free stuff? Returning it hurt people’s feelings. Ethan scolded me, “Maya White, you have no self-respect.” Maybe he was afraid I’d tattle to my parents, or start crying uncontrollably like I used to. Ethan walked into the corner store and bought a huge bag of assorted chocolates. He tossed it into my arms like feeding a stray dog. “Here, eat these slowly. Don’t touch chocolates other people give you.” I retorted defiantly, “Aren’t you ‘other people’ too?” He flicked my forehead with his finger. “I’m your brother. Would I ever try to harm you?” Ethan’s logic was seriously twisted. Were those girls who liked him trying to harm him? He was an expert at applying the ‘too much of a good thing’ principle to me. I ate that bag of chocolates over two days and ended up needing an emergency dentist appointment. After that painful lesson, I reluctantly brought the rest to school to share with my friends. Chloe Davis, munching on my chocolate, asked indistinctly, “Maya, do you think Ethan likes you? Why else would he give you so much chocolate?” I thought back over Ethan’s attitude towards me for the past decade or so. I shook my head firmly. “He’s less like a boyfriend and more like my dad.” Chloe clicked her tongue. “Your brain really is slow, isn’t it? Isn’t that exactly what they call a ‘protector’ type – the kind that acts like your dad?” 4 Chloe’s words stuck with me. Even though Ethan was harsh, everything he did was supposedly for my own good. Thinking about it that way, I realized I did depend on him. After all, since I was born, I’d spent more time with him than with my own parents. From the moment I could understand things, it felt like I’d unconsciously accepted it: I was meant to be with Ethan forever. So, even when he was strict with me, I took it gladly. Mimicking the other girls, I wrote Ethan a long love letter and slipped it into his desk. After school, while packing up, Ethan pulled out an envelope. He was about to return it out of habit, but then he saw the name on it. His fingers paused. My heart leaped into my throat. Finally, under my hopeful gaze, he put it in his bag. That evening, he called me up to the rooftop. I thought my romantic dreams were about to come true. Instead, he tore the letter into tiny pieces right in front of me. He said, “Maya White, are your grades perfect now? You have time to copy others writing love letters?” Among the shreds, I spotted the decorative washi tape I’d used to seal it. He hadn’t even opened it. When he returned letters to other girls, he at least managed a polite smile. With me, he was more ruthless than ever. I cry easily. When I’m hurt, the tears just pour out uncontrollably. But Ethan pretended not to see. He said coldly, “Go home and think about what you’ve done.” I knew for sure then: Ethan didn’t like me. I secretly vowed never to speak to Ethan again. Maybe this was the awkwardness of confessing to someone you know too well. The next day, trying to avoid Ethan, I left home half an hour early. Just around the corner, Mrs. Gable asked, “Maya, why aren’t you walking with young Ethan today?” A few steps later, Mr. Henderson, out for his morning walk, asked, “Hey kiddo, haven’t seen the Miller boy this morning?” Mrs. Diaz, coming back from grocery shopping, chimed in, “Maya, why are you out alone today?” I clutched my head and practically ran the rest of the way. What was I supposed to say? That I confessed my love, got rejected, and now we were enemies? But Ethan acted like nothing happened. He arrived at school right on time. Just like always, he brought me a bagel and the mushroom and swiss melt I liked. I glanced at it and threw everything into the trash can. 5 Ethan retrieved the breakfast from the trash and placed it back on my desk. “You can throw a tantrum, but wasting food is not okay.” Meeting his unusually stern gaze, I backed down again. In that moment, I felt a sudden wave of despair. I really didn’t have the luxury of acting like some novel heroine, running off to another country for weeks just to make the brooding CEO miss me. Just like now, no matter how much I sulked, when I went home, I still had to call him ‘Ethan’ or ‘big brother’. Looking back, the most rebellious thing I’d ever done was probably just sulking in secret. Then hiding, making Ethan find me, and then making him guess why I was mad. But he never guessed; he knew my patterns too well. Mad today, easily bribed with some candy tomorrow. I hated myself for being so predictable, but he’d always say it wasn’t my fault, because my IQ was only 80. The storm of the confession blew over quickly. Because we had high school entrance exams coming up, I temporarily shelved our feud for the bigger picture. Luckily, Ethan wasn’t petty. He was still willing to carve out precious time to tutor me. In the end, Ethan and I both barely scraped into the same Magnet High School. He was number one in the honors program; I was dead last in the regular track. When my parents saw my results, they treated Ethan to dinner three times in a row. I was left at home, stomach growling, surviving on ramen noodles. I thought life would just drift along like this. Ethan would continue being my unrelated but ever-present older brother. He didn’t like me, but at least for now, he didn’t seem to like anyone else either. Thinking about that brought me a sliver of comfort. But we were growing up, and things inevitably changed. Junior year, a transfer student arrived in Ethan’s honors class and immediately took the top spot in the grade rankings. As a struggling student myself, I wasn’t interested in their academic battles. I only noticed that Ethan, usually laid-back, suddenly got serious. He stopped walking to and from school with me, always leaving early and coming home late. I wanted to keep him company, but he said it wasn’t necessary, worried I wouldn’t get enough rest. During the mid-winter exams of junior year, Ethan caught up to the transfer student, tying with her for first place. Their homeroom teacher was ecstatic, happily predicting two Ivy League prospects from the class that year. My classroom was on the floor above Ethan’s. Afterwards, I often saw Ethan and the transfer student studying together in the hallway. The girl was elegant and composed. I’d seen her name on the ranking lists: Sophia Bellweather. 6 Chloe said they were dating. I didn’t believe it. Ethan was the least likely person to get into a relationship during high school. But they were always together, seemingly closer each day. Later, I noticed a little Stitch keychain dangling from Ethan’s backpack zipper. It looked familiar because Sophia had a pink Angel one (Stitch’s girlfriend). Ethan usually disliked cute things like that. Last year for his birthday, I gave him a pair of sneakers. As we were leaving the shoe store, someone outside was selling squishy stress toys. One was an ugly-cute, big-eyed monster that squeaked “love you” when squeezed. I bought one and secretly tucked it into the shoebox. I even planned my excuse: if he found it, I’d say it came free with the shoes. But unexpectedly, Ethan opened the gift box right in front of me. He glanced inside, then handed the big-eyed monster back to me. “I don’t need this. You can play with it.” Yeah, he was always mature and serious; he probably thought anything like that was childish. But now, this big-eared Stitch wasn’t childish? Hanging a keychain on his backpack wasn’t childish? Turns out, he just thought I was childish. Fingering the keychain on his bag, I asked Ethan if he and Sophia were together. He ruffled my hair. “You’re just a kid, what do you know?” My heart sank. Ethan was straightforward. Yes meant yes, no meant no. If he didn’t like something, he’d say it directly. Like how he rejected me years ago. But this time, he didn’t deny it. That was basically a confirmation. I hadn’t expected my first real encounter with Sophia to happen so soon.

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