Every year on my birthday, my boyfriend would ditch me at the last minute because of his junior, Sienna. This year, I’d booked a restaurant, put on the dress he said he loved most, and waited for three hours. Finally, I got a message from him: “Sienna’s heartbroken and feeling down. I’m just going to talk to her for a bit. You go ahead and eat.” This time, I didn’t beg or cry. I finished my steak alone and ordered myself a slice of cake. I made a wish: I hoped that by next year’s birthday, I wouldn’t need him anymore. When Justin arrived, he saw me saying goodbye to the waiter. He looked confused. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” I smiled. “It’s fine. Go be with Sienna. I’m used to it.” 1 Back home, I headed straight for the guest room. Justin followed me, puzzled. “What are you doing in the guest room?” “Sleeping.” I opened the closet and began to pack my pajamas and toiletries. “What do you mean?” He frowned. “Are you mad?” I didn’t answer, simply and calmly placing my belongings, one by one, into a storage bin. Justin walked over, intending to take my hand, but I sidestepped him. “I really had something important come up. Sienna was particularly upset today…” he began to explain. “I know.” I cut him off, my tone flat. “Go be with her. I understand.” He froze, probably not expecting that response from me. Sienna was his junior, who later became his assistant. I’d always felt he showed a clear favoritism towards Sienna. In the past, every time he’d broken plans because of her, I would cry, rage, and demand answers hysterically. But now, I was truly exhausted. I carried the storage bin towards the guest room. Justin still stood rooted to the spot, his face etched with bewilderment. “You… you’re still angry?” He followed me. I turned to look at him, stating calmly, “I just want to sleep in a different room. Nothing else.” “But…” “Good night.” I closed the guest room door. Lying on the unfamiliar bed, I felt strangely peaceful. Tonight marked our third birthday together since we started dating, and it was the third time he’d stood me up. The first year, he said there was an urgent need for him at an art exhibition. I waited at home until midnight, the cake hardening. The second year, he said Sienna was sick and needed his care. I went to the restaurant alone, ate a mango cake I was allergic to, and ended up in the emergency room. This year, he said Sienna was feeling down again. Every single time, it was Sienna. I closed my eyes, recalling the wish I’d made tonight. By next year’s birthday, I truly wouldn’t need him anymore. I woke up early the next morning, quickly washed up, and left the house. Justin was still asleep; I didn’t wake him. I used to always prepare breakfast for him, but today, the dining table was bare. This time, I only bought soy milk and steamed buns for myself. 2 At three in the afternoon, I was in a meeting when Justin messaged me: “Sienna’s landlord is reclaiming the apartment, and she has nowhere to stay. Can she stay at our place for a few days?” I stared at the message, recalling two years ago when we first started dating. I’d suggested inviting my best friend over, and he’d said, “Home is a private space; maybe not have outsiders over.” Back then, my best friend was an outsider. Now, Sienna wasn’t. I didn’t reply. When I got home from work, Sienna was already in the living room. She wore Justin’s white shirt, her hair damp, sitting on the sofa watching TV. I recognized the shirt; it was one of Justin’s favorites. He’d usually tell me, “Don’t wrinkle it,” even if I just touched it. Justin saw me return and immediately walked over to explain, “Her clothes got wet in the rain, so I…” “Mm-hmm.” I nodded, changed my shoes, and walked into the kitchen. He followed me, lowering his voice. “You’re not angry?” “Why would I be angry?” I opened the fridge, starting to prepare dinner. “You said she had nowhere to stay; it’s perfectly normal for her to stay a few days.” Justin stared at me for a few seconds, as if checking if I was being sarcastic. I didn’t look at him, just calmly washed and chopped vegetables. Sienna’s voice drifted from the living room: “Justin, there’s a new mystery movie out tonight. Will you come with me to see it?” I heard Justin say, “Sure, I’ll be with you in a moment.” Then he turned to me, tentatively asking, “Do you… want to come too?” I dried my hands, calmly stating, “No, I don’t like watching movies. You two go.” He frowned. “Don’t you love watching movies?” I smiled, offering no reply. Two years ago, every time I asked him to watch a movie, he’d say, “Maybe another day, Sienna and I are swamped.” I asked him over a dozen times; he never agreed once. After that, I stopped asking. Now, he couldn’t even remember what I liked. Justin stood at the kitchen doorway, wanting to say something but stopping himself. In the end, he left with Sienna. I sat alone at the dining table, eating the meal I’d cooked myself. My phone rang; it was my best friend. “How was your birthday?” she asked. “It was good.” My voice was flat. “Who are you kidding? I saw your social media post—just a picture of cake. Where was Justin?” I paused for a few seconds. “He had something to do.” “Sienna again?” My best friend’s voice rose. “I told you…” “It’s fine, I’m used to it.” I cut her off. “Talk later, I’m eating.” After hanging up, I looked out the window. It was dark now; they must be at the cinema. Would Sienna lean on his shoulder, just as she had countless times before, saying, “Justin, you’re the best”? I picked up a piece of green vegetable, chewing slowly. I don’t know why, but I suddenly remembered the candlelight I saw when I made my wish. In that instant, I felt like I had truly let go of my expectations for him. At eleven o’clock, I heard the lock turn. Justin was back, a smile still on his face. He saw me washing dishes, paused, and came over, offering to help. I said, “No need, go rest.” He stood behind me, staring at my back for a long time. “What… what’s wrong with you?” he asked. I dried my hands, turned to face him, and calmly asked, “Nothing, was the movie good?” “It was alright.” He answered somewhat distractedly. “Why aren’t you angry?” “Why should I be angry?” I countered. He was speechless. Probably because the old me would have made a huge fuss over something like this. But now that I wasn’t fighting, he was unnerved. Men, they really are a pain. 3 Over the next few days, I deliberately avoided Justin. I left the house at seven every morning and didn’t return until ten at night. Even on weekends, I’d schedule meetings with clients or stay at my best friend’s place. When Justin invited me to dinner, I’d say, “I have a client meeting.” When he asked me to watch a movie, I’d say, “Working late, maybe next time.” When he asked why I was so busy, I’d say, “Lots of projects lately.” The truth was, I just didn’t want to be in that house. After Sienna moved in, the living room became her domain. Her cosmetics were on the coffee table, her clothes hung on the balcony, and her and Justin’s laughter always drifted from the living room. That house felt less and less like my home. On Friday night, I browsed rental listings on my phone. My best friend messaged me: “Are you moving out?” “Yeah, I want a change of scenery,” I replied. “Finally coming to your senses?” I didn’t answer the question, just kept looking at listings. Justin walked up behind me, saw my phone screen, and his face changed. “You’re looking for a place?” His voice was a little strained. “Yeah.” I locked the screen and put my phone down. He sat opposite me, his eyes complex. “Are you moving out?” I looked up at him, calmly stating, “This apartment is yours, and Sienna lives here too. I don’t feel very comfortable.” “Sienna’s moving out in a few days,” he quickly explained. I smiled. “It’s fine; I’m used to it anyway.” “You’re saying you’re used to it again.” He frowned. “What exactly do you mean? I told you, I only see Sienna as a sister.” I didn’t answer, just got up to get water from the kitchen. Justin followed me, pressing, “Are you upset with me?” “No.” I took a sip of water. “I just think it’s better to live somewhere more comfortable.” “But this is our home…” “It’s your home.” I cut him off, looking into his eyes. “I’m just temporarily staying here.” He froze. I turned and went back to my room, hearing his frustrated voice just before I closed the door: “Claire, you actually don’t believe me!” The next day, a colleague from work invited me to lunch. Mid-meal, she suddenly asked, “Are you and Justin doing okay?” I paused. “Yeah, why?” “Just… is he good to you?” My colleague hesitated. “I don’t mean to stir trouble, but I saw him with another girl the other day, and they were very intimate.” I smiled, saying nothing. My colleague sighed. “He cheated, why don’t you break up with him?” Then, she paused. “Forget it, pretend I didn’t say anything.” I knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say, you don’t look happy at all. She wanted to say, he seems to care more about that Sienna. She wanted to say, you deserve better. But I knew all these things myself. That evening, Justin messaged: “Let’s go out for dinner tonight. We haven’t eaten together in ages.” I replied: “No, I have a client meeting.” “Another client meeting?” He sent a question mark. “You’ve been busy every day this week.” “Yeah, a lot of projects lately.” My phone vibrated several times, all messages from him. “What exactly are you busy with?” “I miss you.” “Are you avoiding me?” I looked at these messages, finally just replying with two words: “No.” Then I silenced my phone and continued looking at rental listings. My best friend was right; I really should move out. I had already scheduled viewings for this weekend. 4 On Tuesday morning, I caught a cold. My head was spinning when I woke up, and my throat felt like it was being cut. I took my temperature: 102.5°F. I sent Justin a message: “I have a fever.” He quickly replied: “Drink plenty of water, take some medicine, and get some rest.” I stared at those six words for a long time, finally just replying with an “Okay.” I lay in bed until the afternoon, my head growing dizzier. I tried to get up to get some water, but the moment I stood up, my vision went black, and I almost fell. My phone rang. It wasn’t a call, but a message from Justin: “Sienna’s blood sugar is low, and she’s not feeling well. I’m taking her to the hospital, so I’ll be back later.” I looked at this message, then at my own temperature, which had climbed to 103.1°F, and found it oddly ironic. I made myself some cold medicine, took a fever reducer, and lay back down. Seven o’clock, eight o’clock, nine o’clock. I drifted in and out of sleep, the room quiet, just me alone. A little after ten, I heard the lock turn. Justin and Sienna were back. I heard his footsteps entering, and his voice talking to Sienna: “You go to your room and rest well. Call me if you need anything.” A little while later, he pushed open my door, saw me lying in bed, and walked over, asking, “What’s wrong?” “Cold.” I answered with my eyes closed. “Has the fever gone down?” “Not yet.” He reached out to touch my forehead, but I turned my face away. “Then get more rest.” He stood for a moment, then turned and left. I heard his footsteps fade, then voices from the living room. “Yeah, she’s resting… I bought you fruit and medicine… It’s nothing, you just rest well…” I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. He bought Sienna fruit and medicine. But when I was home with a fever, he only replied, “Drink plenty of water.” My best friend came to see me that evening. Seeing my fever-flushed face, she swore angrily: “Where’s Justin? Where is he?” “He’s taking Sienna to the hospital again,” I said weakly. “She has low blood sugar.” “Low blood sugar?” My best friend’s voice rose. “You’re almost at 104°F, and he’s with someone else for low blood sugar?” I said nothing. My best friend poured me water and gave me medicine, scolding me while taking care of me: “I really don’t know what you see in him. Two years, has he ever been good to you?” I swallowed the medicine, so bitter I wanted to throw up. “I don’t know either,” I said. “Maybe I just liked that he’s handsome.” “You…” My best friend sighed. “Forget it, I’m tired of talking to you.” She stayed with me until midnight, leaving only after confirming my fever had broken. 5 In the morning, I was still asleep when I heard the door lock click. Justin returned, carrying things. “Did you buy breakfast?” I walked over. “Yeah.” He turned to me. “Sienna has low blood sugar. She loves the soup dumplings from this place, so I specifically waited in line to buy them.” My hand froze. Sienna emerged from her room, her face lighting up when she saw the breakfast. “Wow, you really went and bought them? You remember even the casual things I say.” Justin smiled. “You’ve loved these since you were a kid; of course I remember.” I stood there, watching the two of them chat and laugh. I felt like an outsider. “You eat too.” Justin noticed me, gesturing to the porridge on the table. “I bought you plain porridge.” Plain porridge. The most ordinary kind of porridge. I suddenly felt that our love was like this bowl of plain porridge, utterly tasteless. I walked to the dining table and sat down, looking at the bowl of porridge, and suddenly asked Justin, “Do you remember what I like to eat?” Justin froze, clearly not expecting such a question. “Never mind, forget I asked.” With that, I stood up and picked up my bag to leave. Justin followed me. “Where are you going?” “To buy breakfast.” I said without looking back. “Didn’t I buy…” “I don’t eat plain porridge.” He followed me out, catching up to me downstairs. I stopped, turning to face him. “What’s wrong?” He stared at me, wanting to speak but holding back. I said calmly, “Two years, and you’ve never bought me breakfast once.” He froze, a hint of panic flashing across his face. I continued, “But you remember Sienna loves soup dumplings, and you even went and queued for them. This isn’t the first time, is it?” “I…” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Then I turned and left. His voice came from behind me: “Can you stop being so petty all the time!” I didn’t look back, just quickened my pace. When I got home, Justin was sitting on the sofa, his face grim. Sienna was no longer in the living room. As I walked past him, he suddenly spoke, “I’ll be more mindful in the future.” I stopped, looking at him. “I’ll remember what you like to eat, I’ll buy you breakfast, I’ll…” He stood up, his gaze earnest. “No need.” I interrupted him. “Really, no need.” “Why?” “Because…” I thought for a moment, then calmly said, “I don’t need it anymore.” His face changed. “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer, just returned to the guest room and closed the door. Sitting on the bed, I opened my phone and saw a message from the real estate agent: “Ms. Wright, the landlord of the apartment you liked has agreed to rent it to you. You can sign the contract this week.” I replied: “Great, I’ll sign on Wednesday.” After sending the message, I leaned against the headboard and closed my eyes. By next year’s birthday, I truly wouldn’t need him anymore. My wish was slowly coming true.

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I lay on the birthing bed, contractions tightening, one after another. My husband, Liam Clarke, held my hand, his gaze so gentle it could melt. “Just a little longer, Eleanor, we’ll see our baby soon.” Sweat drenched me from the pain, yet I managed a small smile for him. It wasn’t until the nurse walked in with a syringe that I thought it was the epidural for pain relief. But Liam suddenly released my hand, stepping back. The moment the needle pierced my skin, I heard Liam say: “Adjust the dosage carefully. She must not go into full labor until Ophelia has delivered.” My eyes widened, staring at him, but he merely glanced down at his watch. “Ophelia is six centimeters dilated. We just need to delay for another two hours.” I wanted to scream, to struggle, but the drug had already been pushed in. The severe contractions in my abdomen, as if an invisible hand had suddenly squeezed them. Came to an abrupt halt. … I was wheeled into a makeshift holding cell in the hospital basement. Liam’s sister, Lydia, stood by the door, idly toying with a scalpel. “Sister Eleanor, don’t blame my brother.” “The child Ophelia is carrying is my eldest brother’s posthumous son—the first male heir of our Clarke family in this generation.” “No matter how early you deliver, it’s just a granddaughter. Useless.” I clutched my belly, a new wave of contractions fighting against the medication. The pain made my vision blacken. “Call a doctor, I’m going into labor, really…” Lydia smiled. She walked in, knelt before me, and gently patted my face with the scalpel. “Deliver what?” “The medication will last another three hours. Sister Ophelia has already entered the delivery room.” “You just wait here obediently. Once her son is safely born, you can deliver however you like.” She finished, then stood up, instructing the bodyguards at the door: “Watch her. If she dares to scream, gag her.” The door closed. The basement only had a dim emergency light. I lay on the floor, the blood beneath me already soaking my dress. My phone had been taken by Liam as soon as I entered the hospital. He said radiation was bad for the baby. Now, looking back, he feared I might contact someone outside. I curled up, trying to breathe deeply to alleviate the pain. But my mind was filled with Liam’s expression from earlier. Cold, calculating, as if looking at an object. Not a wife, nor a woman about to bear his child. Three months ago, his eldest brother died in a car accident. Leaving behind his pregnant widow, Ophelia, three months along. At the funeral, Old Mr. Clarke wept, clutching Ophelia’s hand and saying: “You must give birth safely. The Clarke family cannot be without an heir.” At the time, I felt sorry for Ophelia, and proactively said: “Dad, don’t worry, Liam and my child will also take good care of you.” The old man glanced at me, saying nothing. It turned out that from then on, my child had already been forsaken. “Ah…” Another wave of contractions struck, more intense than before. The medication was weakening; the baby was coming. I clawed at the door panel, banging with all my might. “Someone, I’m in labor, save my baby.” There was no movement outside the door. Only after my voice went hoarse did I hear the bodyguard’s impatient tone: “What’s all the fuss? Miss Lydia said to wait.” “But the baby…” “If it dies, it’s fate. Who told your belly not to be strong enough to carry a son?” I slumped to the ground, shivering cold. Not fate. Someone wanted my baby dead. I don’t know how long I endured in that basement. The blood flowed more and more, soaking the ground beneath me. As my consciousness began to blur, the door suddenly opened. It wasn’t Lydia, nor the bodyguards. It was the Clarke family’s personal physician, Dr. Chen. When he saw my condition, his face instantly paled. “Mrs. Clarke? What are you doing here?” “Mr. Clarke said you were resting in the VIP room, didn’t he?” I tried to speak, but no sound came out. I could only point to my belly, tears streaming incessantly. Dr. Chen quickly walked over, kneeling to examine me. The moment his hand touched my belly, he gasped. “Fully dilated! Water’s broken!” “Immediate surgery needed!” He tried to lift me, but the moment I moved, a gush of warmth flooded from my lower body. Blood. A large amount of blood. Dr. Chen’s hands trembled. He shouted towards the door: “Someone! Quickly! The patient is hemorrhaging!” The corridor was empty. This private hospital was funded by the Clarke family. Tonight, it had been cleared for Ophelia’s delivery. All medical staff were on standby on the third floor. Dr. Chen pulled out his phone to call, but found there was no signal in the basement. “I’ll carry you up, hold on!” He gritted his teeth, picked me up, and stumbled out. The stairs were long, every step jarring me beyond endurance. I could feel the baby dropping, but it just wouldn’t come out. The medication was still working, contractions coming and going sporadically. This was the most dangerous. “Dr. Chen…” I clutched his collar, my voice a mere whisper. “Save the baby, please.” “Don’t say such foolish things, everything will be fine!” He finally rushed to the first floor, heading towards the operating room. But at the door, we both froze. The operating room door was wide open. It was empty. The surgical lights were gone. The operating table was gone. Monitors, oxygen machines, all medical equipment, vanished. Only an empty room remained, with a few power outlets on the walls. Dr. Chen stood rigid. I heard a gurgling sound in his throat, as if he were being strangled. “How could this be…” “I checked the equipment this afternoon…” Footsteps approached from the end of the corridor. Lydia walked over with two nurses. Seeing us, she raised an eyebrow. “Dr. Chen, what are you doing here?” “Sister Ophelia is in the delivery room on the third floor. Why did you come down?” Dr. Chen pointed to the empty operating room, his voice trembling: “Where’s the equipment? Where did the operating room equipment go?” Lydia looked innocent: “It was moved to the third floor.” “Sister Ophelia is having a C-section. She needs the best equipment. In case of an emergency, an ordinary operating room wouldn’t be enough.” She said, her gaze falling on me, and smiled. “Is Sister Eleanor going into labor?” “You’ll have to wait a bit. Sister Ophelia isn’t finished yet.” “Just hold on a little longer.” I looked at her exquisitely made-up face. Suddenly I remembered half a year ago, she walked arm-in-arm with me while shopping, sweetly saying: “Sister Eleanor, you’re so kind, closer than my own sister.” At the time, I even bought her a handbag worth tens of thousands. Looking back now, it was a joke. Dr. Chen frantically rushed into the nurses’ station, searching for emergency equipment. But the cabinets were bare. Not even the most basic hemostats or gauze. “Where’s the medicine? Hemostatic agents! Oxytocin!” A nurse whispered, “They’ve all been sent to the third floor.” “Mr. Clarke ordered that all resources prioritize Mrs. Ophelia.” Dr. Chen slammed his fist on the counter. He looked at me with bloodshot eyes, his lips trembling: “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Clarke…” “I can’t do anything…” Lydia walked over, patting his shoulder: “Dr. Chen, don’t worry.” “Sister Eleanor hasn’t delivered yet, has she? Once Sister Ophelia is done, the equipment will be moved back down.” She glanced at my belly and added: “Even if she does deliver, it’s just a girl. If she’s gone, she’s gone.” “The Clarke family isn’t lacking one of those.” I stared intently at her. Stared at this person I had loved like my own sister for three years. Then, with all my remaining strength, I squeezed out two words: “Beast.” Lydia’s face darkened. She bent down, leaning close to my ear, her voice very low: “Curse all you want, go ahead.” “Anyway, once you’ve delivered and your body is weak, I have plenty of ways to shut you up.” “By then, the position of Mrs. Clarke will belong to Sister Ophelia.” “As for you…” She straightened up, a brilliant smile on her face: “Out of respect for my brother, we’ll spare your life. You can be a servant.” Dr. Chen couldn’t listen anymore: “Miss Lydia! This is murder!” “Murder?” Lydia scoffed. “Dr. Chen, watch your words.” “It’s not uncommon for a woman to die during childbirth, is it?” “Besides, this is my Clarke family’s private business. As an outsider, is it any of your concern?” She finished, waving to the bodyguards: “Take Dr. Chen to rest.” “As for Sister Eleanor, I’ll personally take care of her.” Two bodyguards stepped forward, dragging Dr. Chen away. Dr. Chen struggled, shouting: “Mrs. Clarke! Press the acupoints to stimulate contractions!” “Don’t give up! The baby can still be saved!” His voice faded into the distance. Lydia closed the nurses’ station door and turned to look at me. She pulled out her phone from her pocket and made a video call. “Brother, Sister Eleanor is going into labor. Do you want to take a look?” Liam’s face appeared on the screen. He was outside the delivery room, with busy medical staff in the background. “Eleanor, don’t make a fuss.” “Ophelia’s not doing well here; the fetal heart rate has dropped.” Lydia aimed the camera at me: “Look, Sister Eleanor is bleeding a lot. Is she going to die too?” Liam frowned, glanced at me, and quickly averted his gaze. “Tell her to wait.” “Once Ophelia has delivered, the doctors will come down.” “Eleanor, you take care of things for now. I can’t leave here.” The video call ended. Lydia shrugged, putting her phone away. “Hear that?” “In my brother’s heart, Sister Ophelia is the first priority.” “You, you’re just a breeding tool.” “Once a tool is used up, it’s meant to be discarded.” I closed my eyes, no longer looking at her. My hand stealthily moved behind me, feeling for the lining of my dress. A button-sized device was sewn there. My father had given it to me. He said, “Eleanor, the Clarke family’s waters run deep. If anything happens, press this.” At the time, I laughed, thinking he was overly cautious. “Dad, Liam is very good to me, and everyone in the Clarke family treats me well.” Looking back now, I was utterly foolish. I used my fingernail to pry open the device’s protective cover. And pressed it gently. No sound, no light. But I knew the signal had been sent. My father had told me that once this was pressed, someone would arrive within half an hour. But half an hour… Could my baby wait half an hour? My consciousness grew increasingly hazy. Lydia sat in a chair playing on her phone, occasionally glancing at me, her gaze like someone observing a lab animal. “Sister Eleanor, what did you marry into this family for?” “For my brother’s good looks? For the Clarke family’s wealth?” “But didn’t you consider, you come from an ordinary family, what right did you have to enter the Clarke family’s door?” I said nothing. Just kept pressing the acupoints Dr. Chen had mentioned. Press hard. Even if hope was slim. Lydia continued: “If it weren’t for your fertile womb, getting pregnant early, my brother wouldn’t have married you at all.” “The original plan was for you to have a son, to at least be somewhat useful.” “But the ultrasound showed it was a girl, and Grandpa’s face darkened.” “Fortunately, Sister Ophelia is carrying a boy, otherwise the Clarke family would have been cut off this generation.” She stood up, walked over, and kicked my leg. “So, you see, a person must know their place.” “Don’t force things that aren’t meant for you.” “Once Sister Ophelia delivers, you’ll sign the divorce papers, take some money, and leave.” “Then you can marry an ordinary man later. How nice.” I opened my eyes, looking at her: “Does Liam know you’re talking to me like this?” Lydia smiled: “He knows.” “My brother asked me to come and persuade you.” “He said you’re stubborn and he was afraid you’d do something rash, so he told me to guide you properly.” I forced a twisted smile. Wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. Another wave of intense pain ripped through my abdomen. This time, it was more violent than before. The medication had completely worn off; the baby was coming. “Ah!” I couldn’t help but cry out. Lydia stepped back, frowning: “So troublesome.” She opened the door, shouting outside: “Someone, check if she’s going into labor.” A nurse cautiously walked in, took one look, and her face went white. “Fully dilated, head is visible…” “But there’s too much bleeding; we need to deliver immediately!” Lydia was impatient: “Then deliver!” The nurse was almost crying: “There’s no equipment, no medicine. Delivering like this… both the mother and baby are in danger…” “Then let it be dangerous.” Lydia said coldly. “Anyway, they’re going to die, why care about this?” Lydia gave her instructions and then went to find Liam, completely disregarding whether I lived or died. The nurse dared not speak, only knelt down and tried to help me manually dilate. But I couldn’t exert any force. Too much blood loss, my strength was completely drained. The baby was stuck, neither moving up nor down. Time ticked by, second by agonizing second. Until hurried footsteps suddenly echoed in the corridor. Many people. The sound of boots on the ground, synchronized. The nurse’s face changed: “Who’s there?” The door was kicked open. A group of people in black combat gear rushed in, each carrying a gun. The leading man removed his helmet, revealing a sharply chiseled face. The moment he saw me, his eyes reddened. “Miss!” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Could only reach out to him. The nurse shrieked in panic: “Who are you! How did you get in! Security! Security!” The man didn’t even look at her, rushing directly to me and kneeling on one knee. “Your subordinate is late, please forgive me, Miss!” He picked me up, ordering those behind him: “Clear the area! Prepare for emergency!” “Yes, sir!” The men in black moved swiftly. The nurse tried to flee in the chaos but was instantly pinned to the ground. She struggled, shouting: “How dare you touch me! This is Clarke family hospital!” The man turned back, glancing at her. His eyes were as cold as ice. “The Clarke family?” “Soon there will be no Clarke family.” I was carried onto a modified medical vehicle. The vehicle was fully equipped, like a mobile operating room. Doctors and nurses were already on standby, immediately beginning resuscitation. “Blood pressure 60/40! Hemorrhagic shock!” “Fetal distress! Emergency C-section required!” “But the patient’s condition is too poor, surgical risk…” “Do it!” the man who carried me in roared. “I’ll take responsibility for anything that happens!” I clutched his hand, using my last ounce of strength: “Save the baby, save the baby first…” He squeezed my hand, his voice trembling: “Miss, don’t speak, conserve your strength.” “The Master is already on his way, he’ll be here soon.” “You and the baby will both be fine, certainly…” Before he could finish, the monitor suddenly emitted a piercing alarm. “Heart stopped! Quick! Defibrillate!” “Fetal heartbeat is also dropping!” “Prepare for C-section! Immediately!” I was quickly secured, and an anesthesia mask was placed over my face. Before losing consciousness, I only heard the doctor shout: “It’s too late! The baby… the baby has no heartbeat!” Darkness, endless darkness. I don’t know how long passed. I opened my eyes. An unfamiliar ceiling above me, the smell of disinfectant in the air. “The Miss is awake!” Someone shouted in surprise. Several faces leaned in, all familiar. My father’s personal bodyguards, uncles who had watched me grow up since childhood. “The baby?” I asked. My voice was impossibly hoarse. The room instantly fell silent. After a few seconds, the man standing at the foot of the bed slowly turned around. It was my father. A man in his fifties, his hair had turned completely white overnight. He walked over, sat by the bed, and held my hand. “Eleanor…” Only two words, and then he choked up. I looked at his bloodshot eyes and already knew the answer. “Gone, aren’t they?” Father nodded, tears falling. “Severe hemorrhage, placental abruption, the baby was suffocated for too long…” “The doctors did their best…” I closed my eyes. I didn’t cry, nor did I scream. I just felt an empty space in my heart. The little life that had lived in my belly for nine months, kicking me every day, whispering secrets with me. Gone. “Where’s Liam?” I asked. Father wiped away his tears, his eyes turning cold: “With Ophelia.” “She delivered, it’s a boy.” “Everyone in the Clarke family is celebrating; no one remembers you.” I smiled. Smiled until my whole body trembled. “Good, very good.” Father squeezed my hand: “Eleanor, come home with Dad.” “The Clarke family doesn’t deserve you, and that man even less so.” I opened my eyes, looking at him: “Dad, I want to do something.” “Tell me.” “Prepare a fake body for me.” “One exactly like me, freshly delivered, looking like I died from excessive blood loss.” Father froze: “You want to…” “I want them to think I’m dead.” “Then, I want to see with my own eyes how they celebrate.” “How they joyfully welcome a new life at the time of my death.” Father was silent for a long time, then nodded. “Alright, Dad will help you.” The fake body was prepared with uncanny realism. Silicone skin, blood bags inserted, body temperature simulated. Placed in the morgue freezer, it was indistinguishable from a real corpse. I sat in the monitoring room, watching the screen. Father sat beside me, holding my hand. “Regret it?” he asked. “Regret what?” “Regret marrying him.” I thought for a moment, then shook my head. “No regret. At least it allowed me to see through people’s hearts.” On the screen, Liam finally emerged from the delivery room. He held a swaddled infant, his face beaming with the joy of a new father. Ophelia lay on a mobile bed, being pushed out, her face pale but her smile radiant. Old Mr. Clarke, leaning on his cane, shakily walked over, looking at the baby, tears streaming down his face. “Grandson, I finally have a grandson…” “The Clarke family has an heir…” A group of people surrounded the baby, filled with laughter and joy. No one asked about me. No one remembered that another expectant mother was still struggling between life and death. Until a nurse quietly said, “Mr. Clarke, your wife…”

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I was Mom’s most cherished “Maple Syrup Baby,” born unable to touch sugar. A severe case of Maple Syrup Urine Disease meant that even a hint of sweetness could cause full-body swelling and suffocation. To balance my delicate psyche, Mom forced my twin brother and me to drink bitter medicine and eat special meals together. When we were seven, my brother, desperate for a taste, secretly licked a discarded candy wrapper he found on the ground. Mom discovered him, rushed over like a madwoman, and forcefully clamped his throat, making him vomit: “You worthless brat! Are you that greedy?!” “Your sister fights for her life every day, and you only care about your own pleasure?!” “I’m telling you, you deserve to suffer with your sister your whole life! As long as she’s alive, you won’t touch sugar for a single day!” Under my brother’s hateful gaze, I was consumed by shame. So, on the eve of our eighteenth birthday, I decided to use my death to grant him his freedom. I slipped into the kitchen and secretly ate an entire chocolate cake. Yet, after a night passed, the expected swelling and suffocation never came. Looking at my rosy, healthy face in the mirror, a chill ran through me: If I was fine, then who was the “Maple Syrup Baby” that Mom fought so hard to protect? 1 Last night, I stared at that fragrant chocolate cake, feeling nothing but immense relief. I clasped my hands together, silently wishing into the air: “Next life, I still want to be Mom’s daughter, Asher’s sister.” “But please, God, don’t let me be a ‘Maple Syrup Baby’ again.” “I want to be a healthy child, to eat sweets without a care, to run freely in the sun…” I opened my eyes, trembling as I dug a large spoonful of cake into my mouth. So sweet. I swallowed in big gulps, tears mixing with cream as they flowed into my mouth. Then I quietly lay back on the bed, waiting for death’s pronouncement. One minute, two minutes, an hour… There was no expected difficulty breathing, no full-body swelling, not even a hint of dizziness or nausea! I looked at my rosy-cheeked reflection in the mirror. What was going on? I’d eaten an entire chocolate cake, enough sugar to kill me ten times over! Why was I completely unharmed? Was Mom just too anxious before, and my illness wasn’t actually that serious? Or… was this the so-called ‘flash before death’? I suppressed the surging questions and fear in my heart and walked out of the bedroom. At the dining table, Mom was carrying two bowls of grayish-brown paste, placing them in front of my brother and me, constantly emitting a foul odor. It was my special nutritional powder; for eighteen years, I had sustained my life with this stuff. “I’m not eating it!” My brother, Asher, seemed to reach his breaking point. He violently waved his hand, knocking the scalding paste directly onto the floor. He pointed at the puddle and roared: “Are you crazy? I have hands, feet, and a healthy body, why do you insist on forcing me and that invalid to eat the same pig slop?” “Is this stuff even fit for humans? Not even a dog would sniff it!” Mom’s eyes instantly reddened, tears welling up immediately. “Asher! How can you say that? Do you have no conscience?” “Do you think Mom wants you to suffer? Look at your sister, Willow! She’ll only ever be able to eat this kind of thing her whole life, she’s never even tasted a bite of meat or a single piece of candy! How do you think she feels seeing you eat lavish meals?” Mom pointed at me, her voice choked. “If your sister sees you eating good food, she’ll get jealous, and her condition will worsen! Once it flares up, it’s tens of thousands in medical bills! The whole family suffering with your sister, that’s how we do things in this house!” Asher turned to look at me, his eyes devoid of any sympathy, only a thick, suffocating hatred. Seeing that brute force wasn’t working, Mom immediately changed her approach. “Son, listen. As long as you drink this bowl, and don’t make your sister feel unfairly treated, Mom will transfer money to you right away. That game skin you wanted, I’ll buy it for you, alright?” Asher’s face softened slightly. He snorted, then reluctantly picked up the bowl. Having dealt with Asher, Mom came over to me, gently stroking my hair, her eyes full of self-congratulation. “Willow, see? This naughty boy doesn’t understand, but Mom has to make him realize that in this family, your feelings come first!” As she spoke, she brought over the bowl of strange-smelling nutritional powder, half-forcing, half-persuading me to take a sip. “Mom buying him that skin, it’s just a necessary evil, to shut him up so he doesn’t make a fuss and upset you. In Mom’s heart, you’re still the most precious.” “Come on, good girl, drink it quickly. Mom specially prepared this for you, don’t let Mom’s hard work go to waste.” I looked at Mom’s eyes, filled with doting affection, and then at Asher, who, despite drinking the paste, had a smug smirk on his face. In the past, I would have been moved to tears, feeling like the happiest and most indebted daughter in the world. To repay Mom’s ‘favoritism,’ I would have tried my hardest to be good to Asher, enduring all his bullying. But now, the lingering sweetness of chocolate in my throat felt like a thorn in my heart. If I wasn’t sick, if eating sugar wouldn’t kill me… then why was Mom forcing a healthy Asher to eat this ‘pig slop’ with me? She said she loved me the most, but why did it feel like she was deliberately steering Asher’s hatred towards me? “Willow? What are you staring at? Drink up. After this, we’re going to the mall to do some New Year’s shopping.” Mom’s words brought me back to reality. I lowered my head and, suppressing my nausea, drank it all in one gulp. At the mall, Mom carried large shopping bags, all for Asher. A designer down jacket costing over three hundred dollars, the latest Apple phone, even limited-edition sneakers. Asher preened in front of the mirror in his new clothes, and Mom stood by, smiling lovingly. “Asher is going to do great things in the future. Since he’s healthy, he needs to see more of the world, dress well, so he can support your sister later.” When she turned to me, the smile on Mom’s face subtly faded. She casually pulled an old-fashioned, even slightly threadbare, discounted red cotton jacket from a promotional rack and shoved it into my arms. Before I could speak, Mom pressed my hand with a pained expression. “Willow, don’t mind the old style of this jacket, it’s pure natural cotton, very breathable. Those fancy down jackets might look good, but they’re all synthetic and duck down, full of allergens. Your body is delicate, what if you get sick wearing them? Listen to Mom, we’ll take this one.” I looked at my ridiculous, ugly reflection in the mirror, then at my dazzling brother next to me, and, suppressing a pang of sadness, nodded. “Thank you, Mom.” In the past, I would have been touched by Mom’s thoughtfulness. But now, I only felt that red cotton jacket was an unshakeable layer of humiliation. While shopping for New Year’s groceries, the candy aisle in the supermarket was piled high with colorful mountains of sweets. Asher’s eyes instantly lit up. While Mom was choosing melon seeds, he grabbed a handful of crisp candies and shoved them into his pocket. But I saw it, and Mom saw it too. “Smack!” Asher stumbled back from Mom’s blow, covering his face as he looked up in disbelief. “Take out the candy!” Mom shrieked hysterically. “Who told you to take candy? If you bring these home, will your sister see them and crave them? With her condition, craving can be deadly!” “How can you be so selfish! You have no sympathy! The whole family is sacrificing for your sister, and here you are, secretly hiding candy to eat! Do you have any conscience?!” The elderly shoppers around us began to whisper. “This mother has it so hard.” “Yes, and this younger brother is so thoughtless, he doesn’t consider his family at all.” “What selfless parental love, really. To accommodate her daughter’s feelings, even her healthy child has to give up sugar. This mother is truly great.” Listening to the praise from those around her, Mom’s anger transformed into a tragic, saintly glow. She wiped away tears, basking in everyone’s sympathy. Meanwhile, Asher stood in the center of the crowd, his face flushed crimson with shame and fury. He stared intently at me, his eyes wishing they could tear me apart on the spot. Back home, as soon as Mom went into the kitchen to cook, Asher grabbed my hair and roughly dragged me to the balcony. It was the dead of winter, there was no heating on the balcony, and the wind seeping through the glass panes cut at my face like knives. Asher stood in the warm living room, separated by the glass door, his expression distorted. “Mom says your body is delicate and can’t have sugar? Fine, then you shouldn’t use the heater either! The heater is for living people!” “If you freeze to death, the family won’t have to buy medicine for you anymore. The money saved will be enough for me to eat candy for a lifetime!” I huddled into a ball in the cold wind. That so-called old cotton jacket offered no warmth, and the biting wind instantly pierced through my bones. Inside the living room, the television played festive New Year’s programs, and the aroma of food wafted faintly, while I, like an abandoned dog, gradually lost feeling in my hands and feet, and my consciousness began to blur. It wasn’t until Mom came out with the dishes, saw me on the balcony, and cried out in alarm, opening the door and dragging me inside. I thought Mom would punish Asher. But she didn’t. She just called Asher, who was filled with malice, and me, who was shivering from the cold, together. She took out a thick ledger from a drawer, filled with densely packed numbers. “Look! All of you, look! This is how much money we’ve spent in the past eighteen years to treat Willow’s illness!” “Imported medicine, special nutritional powder, regular check-ups… which one isn’t an astronomical figure? For this money, Mom has scrimped and saved, not even daring to buy a decent piece of clothing for herself!” Mom pointed at the numbers, her eyes red as she spoke to Asher. “Son, don’t blame Mom for being strict with you. Our family is poor because of your sister’s illness. Mom doesn’t let you eat sugar because she’s afraid of triggering her, afraid she’ll get sick and we’ll have to spend money again! Our family really can’t afford it anymore!” “If you want to hate, then hate this damned fate! Don’t ever hate your sister, she doesn’t want to be a burden on us either!” Mom hugged Asher, weeping inconsolably, as if she were the most helpless, long-suffering mother in the world. I was wrapped in a blanket, my teeth still chattering, but my heart had completely turned cold. Sure enough, Asher picked up the ledger and looked at me, his eyes completely devoid of understanding, only a deeper, heavier hatred. It was a hatred that wished to get rid of me immediately, that wished I would drop dead so he and this family could finally be free!

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After I beat up the fake heiress, my brothers threw me into a psych ward. When I finally got out, I was exceptionally well-behaved. If my brothers told me to go East, I didn’t even dare glance West. But why did the fake heiress suddenly become even more well-behaved than me? Dr. Keller always told me: if they don’t throw the first punch, I can’t hit back. That’s the basic code of conduct for a psychiatric patient. Huh? What a joke. Making someone throw the first punch? That’s easy. I have a million ways to make that happen. 1 The day my second brother, Liam, came to pick me up from the asylum, I was wearing a babydoll top and denim overalls. My hands were obediently folded in front of me, and my eyes were cast downward. All traces of my former arrogance were completely wiped clean. Liam looked me up and down and finally spoke, sounding satisfied. “Do you know what you did wrong?” I nodded obediently and recited the exact script Dr. Keller had drilled into me. “I’m sorry, Liam. I was jealous of Chloe, and that’s why I paid those thugs to bully her. I was wrong. I’ll never do it again.” Just the right amount of grievance. Just the right amount of remorse. Eyes brimming with tears, but so full of shame that I didn’t dare let them fall. I had spent a long time practicing this exact look, modeling it perfectly after Chloe. Sure enough, Liam bought it. He raised his noble hand and patted my head like he was bestowing a grand charity. “Good girl. If you hadn’t gone so far this time, Arthur wouldn’t have locked you up in the psych ward.” “From now on, get along with Chloe.” I mimicked Chloe again, nuzzling gently into his palm. Just as I expected, Liam smiled, genuinely pleased. Neither of us noticed Dr. Evans, the asylum director, standing nearby, violently shuddering. I tilted my head and shot him a sideways glance. Cold sweat immediately beaded on his forehead. “M-Mr. Sterling, if there’s nothing else you need, I’ll leave you to your sibling reunion.” Liam nodded. “You did a good job. The Sterling family’s investment funds will be wired over shortly.” “Th-thank you!” After thanking him, Dr. Evans hastily turned to practically sprint away. “The Director sure is quick on his feet…” I commented softly. Thud. Dr. Evans face-planted onto the pavement. Then, under Liam’s bewildered gaze, he scrambled up and ran for his life, looking as if the devil himself was chasing him. “Liam, can I go home now?” Seeing my docile expression, Liam nodded. But he didn’t forget to warn me, “If you ever bully Chloe again, even if Arthur doesn’t lock you up, I will!” “Okay.” I nodded obediently. 2 When we arrived at that familiar, massive estate, I stopped at the front door and didn’t dare step inside. Chloe had told me this was her home. The parents were hers. The brothers were hers. I was the outsider. How could I just walk into someone else’s home? It wasn’t until Liam said, “Come inside,” that I put on a flattered, timid smile. “Can I really?” Just as I hoped, Liam felt a pang of guilt. His eyes even reddened slightly. But remembering my past viciousness, he quickly pushed the emotion down. Not long after, my oldest brother, Arthur, arrived home with Chloe. “Arthur, I brought Harper back,” Liam said. “Has it already been six months?” Fast? I lived a fate worse than death in that place. Every day felt like a year, yet they thought the time flew by. “Yeah. Dr. Evans specifically called to remind me this morning. I completely forgot. Turns out we actually left her in there three days extra.” Arthur didn’t seem to care, acting as if leaving me to rot in that hellhole was no big deal. He scrutinized me with a harsh, judging gaze. I immediately gave him an obedient half-bow. Seeing me, Chloe looked absolutely terrified and quickly hid behind Arthur. Arthur patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t be scared, I’m here. If she dares lay a finger on you again, I promise you, she will never set foot outside that asylum until the day she dies!” Arthur glared at me like I was his mortal enemy. I quietly rubbed my chest. So… even a psychiatric patient’s heart can still hurt, huh? “I’m very good now. I’m very obedient,” I said, my eyes sincere, looking slightly pathetic. Arthur looked at me with pure disgust and led Chloe away to wash up for dinner. 3 Dinner, unsurprisingly, consisted entirely of Chloe’s favorite dishes. Suppressing her supposed “fear,” Chloe proactively placed a piece of crispy fried pork into my bowl. “Here, Harper, have some.” Pepper coating Szechuan peppercorns, and the peppercorns themselves marinated in mango juice… This piece of pork perfectly hit every single one of my severe food allergies. Arthur gently rubbed her back. “Chloe, I raised you myself. You aren’t inferior to anyone, and you don’t need to suck up to anyone!” Chloe lowered her head to eat, tears welling in her eyes. I was genuinely confused. They gave her the best of everything. They even cooked her favorite foods every single day. Why did they always act like she was the one being wronged? Dr. Keller always said: The kid who knows how to put on a show gets the candy. I sat there obediently, staring at the piece of pork, swallowing hard. Then, I asked the question that made all of their faces turn black. “Can… can I eat this?” Arthur: … Liam: … Chloe: (Grinding her teeth). Seeing that no one objected, I obediently picked up my chopsticks and started shoveling food into my mouth. I was starving. I hadn’t eaten normal food in so long. In that moment, I wanted to swallow the entire table whole. Seeing my completely unrefined, ravenous eating habits, my brothers looked disgusted. “Harper, did they not feed you in there?” Liam asked. I shook my head. “They did! But there wasn’t any meat in the slop buckets…” Slam! Arthur threw his chopsticks down. “Harper, who the hell are you trying to guilt-trip?!” “That facility is heavily funded by the Sterling family! Even if Dr. Evans had the guts, he would never dare abuse you like that!” “If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable!” He wouldn’t dare? Arthur, have you ever seen a bed of nails? Have you ever experienced electroshock therapy? Have you ever been forced to fight stray dogs for a scrap of food? Of course, Arthur hadn’t seen any of that. But Chloe, safely tucked under his wing, smiled. If she hadn’t kept her head down, her grin would have reached her ears. I stood there, trembling and completely lost, not daring to speak, looking at furious Arthur with wide, terrified eyes. Liam frowned and tried to calm him down. “Arthur, Harper just got back today. Can’t we just have one peaceful family dinner?” Arthur forced his anger down, his disgust for me only growing deeper. Liam sighed helplessly and handed me a clean pair of chopsticks. “If you’re hungry, eat as much as you want.” I smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Liam.” Liam’s pupils contracted. Did his sister know how to smile? And could she smile this beautifully? Why hadn’t he seen it once in all these years? So… as long as he treated her a little better, she would smile this sweetly and call him her brother… For a split second, Liam felt something squeeze his heart. Arthur’s eyes flickered too, but it didn’t change his attitude toward me. 4 Just as I finished washing up and was about to get into bed, Chloe walked in. “Harper, I brought you some warm milk.” She walked in without knocking. I took it obediently. “Thank you.” Those two words had never, ever come out of my mouth when addressing her. Because every time she played nice, there was a trap waiting. Chloe froze for a second, then started laughing. “Wow, you really have become quite the obedient little dog.” The next second, her hand “slipped,” spilling the entire glass of milk all over my pajamas. “Oh no! Harper, why didn’t you hold it steady?” Her eyes gleamed maliciously, but I didn’t move an inch. She then picked up the only gifts my two brothers had ever given me—the year I first returned to the family—and threw them straight into the trash can. I still didn’t move. She looked around the room, her eyes finally landing on the framed photo on my desk. It was the only photo I had with my biological parents. This time, I moved. I grabbed her wrist. Chloe finally smiled triumphantly. With her other hand, she snatched the frame and smashed it violently onto the floor. My eyes burned with fury. “Ooh, are you mad? Hit me if you dare!” Naked, blatant provocation! As a psychiatric patient, the very first thing I learned was how to follow the rules. I raised my arm and slapped her across the face with everything I had. Chloe was completely stunned by the slap. It took her several seconds to start her performance. “Arthur! Liam! Help me!” Both brothers charged into the room instantly, pulling Chloe behind them, glaring at me like they wanted to kill me. “Harper! Have you lost your damn mind?!” I folded my hands obediently in front of me. “She told me to hit her.” Chloe covered her face, sobbing hysterically. “I just came in to bring her milk, and I saw her throwing the gifts you gave her into the trash! And then she tried to rip up the photo of Mom and Dad! I tried to stop her, and she just hit me… sob…” The gifts were in the trash. The photo was on the floor, the frame completely shattered. The evidence was irrefutable. I couldn’t deny it. “Harper, do you still hate us this much? Do you still hate the Sterling family? You being switched at birth wasn’t Mom and Dad’s fault, and it wasn’t the Sterling family’s fault…” Liam looked profoundly disappointed. Hate? Probably. I wandered the streets for ten years. My “adoptive” parents trained me to beg for money. When I got older, I ran with street kids, stealing food just to survive. Getting beaten half to death was a regular occurrence. I struggled to survive at the absolute bottom of society, living like a cockroach. But the Sterling family? They treated my replacement like an absolute princess. How could I not hate them? I hated them for not finding me sooner. I hated them for losing me. I hated that after losing me, they just went and adopted a replacement… I also hated that every time Chloe plotted against me, they never believed me. They always stood by her side. “If I had known you would turn out like this, I would have just let you get beaten to death on the streets!” Arthur finally said what was really on his mind. I looked up at him, my expression shifting back to eerily docile. “Chloe threw the gifts in the trash. Chloe smashed the photo…” “You…” If my brothers had beards, they would be bristling with rage right now. I pulled out my discharge certificate and showed it to them. “I swear on my honor as a certified psychiatric patient, I am not lying!” Psychiatric patient? My brothers’ pupils contracted. Liam quickly snatched the certificate from my hand, his fingers trembling. “This… this looks real…” I nodded. “Dr. Keller said that as psychiatric patients, we must be docile and obedient in the outside world if we want to survive.” Arthur glanced at the certificate and suddenly let out a cold scoff. Clearly, he didn’t believe me. “Docile? Obedient? Fine. Then pack your things and move out of this room right now. Let Chloe live here!” This room was the “princess suite” my parents had personally designed for me. My mom designed it, my dad oversaw the renovations. It was the cozy little sanctuary they built to welcome me back to the Sterling family. Chloe had tried to steal it countless times before, and I always fought her tooth and nail to keep it. But today… “Okay.” I nodded obediently and immediately started packing my meager belongings. Arthur, Liam, and even Chloe froze. They all knew this room was my absolute bottom line. When I actually walked out, Chloe looked thrilled. She could finally move into this room legitimately! But on the surface, she timidly tugged at Arthur’s sleeve. “Arthur, can I really stay here?” Arthur’s face looked a bit grim. “If she can live here, why can’t you?” Turning around, he clearly wasn’t done punishing me. He pointed to the tiny storage closet downstairs. “From now on, you sleep in there.” I nodded obediently again and cheerfully carried my blanket inside. Arthur’s arm froze mid-air before he could even put it down. He watched with a thunderous expression as I set up my blanket in the cramped, windowless space. I could feel his chest practically vibrating with rage. I was genuinely confused. Isn’t this what you wanted? Why are you so mad? Seeing me about to lie down and go to sleep, he spoke again: “Wait!” I stood perfectly still. The next second, the housekeeper brought in a bucket of ice water and dumped it directly onto my blanket. “Now you can sleep.” Arthur stared at me, his face devoid of emotion. He was absolutely certain I wouldn’t be able to tolerate this. He was waiting for me to snap and expose my “true” nature. Unfortunately for him, he was going to be disappointed. I lay down fully clothed in the soaking wet, freezing bed, and within minutes, I was snoring softly and sweetly. Arthur: !!! 5 When I woke up again, I was lying in a comfortable guest bedroom. Liam was sitting by my bed, muttering to himself, “How long has it been since she actually slept? She’s been asleep for ten hours straight…” Seeing my eyes open, he looked at me with deep concern. “Harper, are you really…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but I knew what he meant. “I am a psychiatric patient, but I’m not insecure about it at all.” Liam: … Arthur, of course, wasn’t going to believe me that easily. He tested me continuously for half a month. If he told me to go East, I absolutely wouldn’t dare look West. If he told me to eat rice, I absolutely wouldn’t dare touch the chicken. He even placed a fat, wriggling grub—my absolute biggest fear—directly onto my hand. I shook uncontrollably from terror, but I didn’t dare shake the bug off. Arthur’s face grew darker and darker. Finally, one day, he couldn’t hold back and asked Chloe, “Did you really do all those things?” Chloe had never faced this kind of questioning or grievance before. That very day, she sought out the housekeeper to scheme. “Doesn’t your son want to buy a bigger house?” “Get this done, and the money on this card is yours!” The housekeeper’s eyes gleamed with greed. Over the years, the money she had squeezed out of tormenting me was enough to buy her a house already! Highly motivated, the housekeeper snuck into my room that night and used her signature move—viciously pinching me awake. “Don’t make a sound!” I was very obedient. I didn’t make a sound. I just stared at her innocently with wide eyes. Perhaps my submissiveness gave her courage. The housekeeper let out a sinister chuckle. “Get up. Take your clothes off.” I obediently sat up, but I absolutely refused to take my clothes off. Dr. Keller always said: A girl must maintain her boundaries, no matter the circumstances. The housekeeper started getting angry. She pulled out a long sewing needle. “Do you remember how this feels? If you don’t take them off, I’ll stab you to death!” I tilted my head, recalling some very unpleasant memories. Once, I had a terrible fever. My brothers took Chloe on a ski trip and left me, burning up at 102 degrees, in the care of this housekeeper. I was too sick to get out of bed. For three days, she didn’t give me a single bite of food or a drop of water. I almost died of starvation and dehydration. In my feverish delirium, right as I was about to fall asleep, she would stab me with a needle… That time, I really almost died. When my brothers came back, I told them about her abuse. Arthur slapped me hard across the face. I found out later that while I was suffering in hell, the housekeeper had been calling them every single day, sobbing about how unreasonable I was, how I was physically abusing her, and even showing them fake injuries she made on her own arms… That was the day I realized my place in their hearts was lower than a hired servant’s. “Scared now? Are you going to listen?” The housekeeper’s fat face twisted into a grotesque sneer. Dr. Keller said that people at the bottom of the hierarchy, who are used to suppressing their true nature and acting submissive, become exceptionally vicious the second they get the chance to dominate someone else. Dr. Keller also said: There is no need to show mercy to vicious people. The next second, I grabbed her by the hair, smashed her head violently against the wall, grabbed the hand holding the needle, and plunged it deep into her own thigh. A pig-like squeal echoed through the entire mansion. “Shh, you can’t do that. Disturbing the peace means you get locked in the water dungeon…” But she didn’t seem to understand human language. I frowned, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her out the door. My brothers were jolted awake and rushed downstairs. “H-Harper, what are you doing?!” Liam’s face went completely white with terror. “She’s too loud. She’s so loud I can’t sleep. Where’s my thirty-meter machete? I need to cut her tongue out.” A freezing chill shot straight from Liam’s feet to his scalp. He was absolutely terrified and frantically tried to stop me. “There’s no machete!” “Harper, how about I help you throw her outside? If we throw her out, she won’t be loud anymore!” I tilted my head. “Is that how it works?” Liam had to coax and plead to finally rescue the housekeeper’s head from my grip. He threw the housekeeper out the front door, and surprisingly, it really was quiet again! I went back to my room, got into bed, and went to sleep. Soon, the sound of my sweet, soft snoring drifted from the room. The remaining people stood there, staring at each other in shock. The entire mansion descended into a deathly, suffocating silence.

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When I was five years old, my mother, carrying a stuttering child like me, married into the ridiculously wealthy Sterling family. Everyone whispered that my mother was a master manipulator, a gold digger who had snagged the jackpot. They all bet that it wouldn’t be long before the Sterling family chewed us up and spit out our bones. The wedding day arrived, and the venue was packed with the city’s elite. Tucked away in a small side room, a group of snobby little rich girls cornered me. They pulled sharply at my collar, choking me, laughing and calling me a “mute little burden.” No one believed my new stepfather would ever stick his neck out for me. But the very next day, my stepfather stood before his peers and announced: “Chloe Sterling is my youngest daughter. She is not mute. And she is an equal heir to the Sterling fortune.” 01 “Are you a mute?” Caleb Sterling asked, leaning down to look at me. I wasn’t a mute. I just had a severe stutter. When other kids my age were chatting in full sentences, I could still only manage single syllables. Realizing something was wrong, my mom took me to specialists. The doctors said it was partly genetic, and partly because I was born prematurely. Most kids with stutters gradually improve with the help of a speech therapist. But I didn’t. In fact, it got worse. It got so bad that eventually, I refused to even try making a single sound. I hated talking. I hated the way people looked at me when I tried. I wasn’t intentionally ignoring him or refusing to call him “brother.” I knew I was supposed to speak today. But my throat just closed up. The harder I tried, the more panicked I became, until huge, silent tears started rolling down my cheeks. My mom rushed over, pulling me into her arms in a panic. She kissed my forehead, cooing gently, “Oh, baby, don’t cry. Caleb was just making a joke. Our little Chloe isn’t a mute; she just gets nervous and the words get stuck, right?” My stepfather’s face turned stern as he looked at Caleb. “Is that how you speak to your sister? Apologize.” Caleb clearly hadn’t expected his casual comment to make me cry so hard. He stood there, frozen, his handsome face looking a little foolish. His biological sister, Victoria Sterling, shot him a look of pure schadenfreude. Caleb opened his mouth, and the voice that came out was barely louder than a mosquito: “I’m sorry. I was wrong.” My stepfather frowned, completely unsatisfied. “Louder!” My mom, not wanting to cause a massive scene on her very first day in the house, gently patted my stepfather’s arm. “It’s fine, it’s fine. The baby heard her brother apologize, didn’t you, sweetie?” I rubbed my swollen eyes and nodded as hard as I could. That evening, my mom and stepfather had to entertain hundreds of VIP guests and business partners, so my stepfather asked Victoria to keep an eye on me. She was about seven or eight years older than me. She wore a beautiful pale-yellow princess dress and a small pearl tiara nestled in her dark hair. Her skin was porcelain white. I had never seen a girl as pretty as her in my entire life. She brought out a pile of toys and patiently, gently showed me how to play with them. Knowing I had a stutter, she didn’t try to force me to talk. After a while, her phone rang. She walked over to the furthest window to answer it. Since I was a baby, I’ve had incredibly sharp senses. I could hear whispers from across a room and see the tiny veins on a leaf from a distance. Only my mom knew about this. Victoria obviously didn’t know, otherwise she never would have taken that call in the same room as me. The caller was her aunt. Caleb and Victoria’s biological mother had passed away from cancer years ago, and since then, they had maintained a very close relationship with their mother’s sister. “Vicky, how is that woman? Has she shown her true colors yet? With a face like that, she’s clearly a seductress. I knew from the start she was bad news. She bewitched your father so thoroughly he married her after only knowing her for a few months.” “A divorced woman with a kid in tow… managing to pull off a stunt like this? I am so worried about you and Caleb.” “She’s no good, and neither is that daughter of hers. You and Caleb need to make sure you don’t let them win you over.” Victoria had her back to me, so I couldn’t see her expression. I just heard her hum in agreement a few times before asking how her aunt’s business in Europe was going and when she would be back. “If I wasn’t tied up with this merger, I would be there right now to put those two in their place and back you up. Ugh.” “Did anything happen today?” Victoria hesitated for a second before recounting what had happened with Caleb earlier. Her aunt let out a cold, sharp laugh through the phone. “That mother-daughter duo is establishing dominance. Forcing the heir of the Sterling family to apologize to them on day one? Just wait until she pops out a son for your father. Who do you think will really be running that house?” “They say when you get a stepmother, you get a stepfather. It’s true. Vicky, you need to warn your brother. Watch your backs around those two.” “My brother and I will be careful,” Victoria promised. 02 My mom is never going to have another baby, I muttered silently in my head. That was an agreement she and my stepfather had made before the wedding. I had overheard them talking about it. Victoria hung up the phone and walked back over to me. The look in her eyes had shifted; the gentle warmth from earlier was gone. She sighed and said, “Chloe, stay here and play. I’m going to change my dress.” I nodded, knowing she was actually going to find Caleb. Just a few minutes later, the door was violently pushed open. Three girls, roughly Victoria’s age, marched in. They were all dripping in expensive, flashy designer dresses. “Where’s Victoria? Didn’t they say she was in here?” The girls scanned the room. They didn’t find Victoria, but they did spot me sitting on the rug with the toys. “Who is this kid? Hey, where’s Victoria? Do you know?” I sat on the sofa as the three of them swaggered over, looking down at me like I was dirt on their shoes. I pressed my lips tightly together, shook my head, and pointed toward the door Victoria had just left through. “Why aren’t you talking? Whose kid are you? Why are you in here all alone?” one of the girls asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “This is the family’s private suite. What’s your connection to Victoria?” “Hey… look at her dress. It looks almost identical to the one Victoria was wearing. It’s from the same couture line.” “I heard Victoria’s new stepmom dragged a kid into the marriage. It couldn’t be you, could it?” The moment they put the pieces together, they covered their mouths and burst into cruel, mocking laughter, acting like I was the funniest joke in the world. Their laughter made my stomach churn. I dropped my toy, slid off the sofa, and headed for the door to find my mom. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going, little burden?” One of them grabbed the back of my collar and violently yanked me backward. They didn’t realize how hard they pulled. The collar cut sharply into my throat. My eyes rolled back, and a strangled, panicked whine escaped my lips. Right at that exact moment, Victoria walked back in. Seeing them practically choking me, she gasped and sprinted across the room, snatching me away from them. “Chloe! Are you okay?!” The three girls jumped in surprise, immediately backpedaling. “We didn’t do it on purpose!” I coughed violently, patting Victoria’s hand to let her know I was breathing. Seeing the involuntary tears streaming down my face from the choking, Victoria was furious. “You are guests in this house! You made my sister cry! What the hell are you doing in my room?!” “We told you, it was an accident! Stop yelling at us!” one of the girls snapped back indignantly. “So she really is your sister, huh? Why didn’t she make a single sound? Is she a mute or something?” It was obvious that these three girls weren’t exactly best friends with Victoria. Victoria glared at them. “That is none of your business! You have absolutely zero manners. Get out of my room!” After being choked and yanked around like a ragdoll, a normal child would have been screaming and crying. The three girls looked at me with weird, twisted expressions, and then started snickering again. “Victoria, I actually feel bad for you. Your dad marries a gold digger, and she brings a defective little sister into the house! It’s pathetic.” “In our circle, you don’t see many kids with handicaps, do you?” “You’ve always acted so arrogant and superior at school, Victoria. Let’s see how high and mighty you act now with this following you around.” Victoria held me tighter, taking a deep breath. “Is this how your parents raised you? Whether my sister has a disability or not, who gave you the right to look down on people with disabilities?!” “There are security cameras in this room. I’m going to have the butler pull the footage and send it directly to your parents.” “And you better remember to come back to my house and formally apologize to my sister.” 03 The very next day, all three sets of parents dragged their daughters to the Sterling estate to apologize to me. My stepfather sat me right next to him on the main sofa. His expression was dead serious, radiating a terrifying authority. He looked at the three nervously smiling families, cleared his throat, and announced: “Chloe Sterling is my youngest daughter. Whether she speaks or not, when the time comes, she will receive an equal share of the Sterling corporate shares and inheritance.” Everyone in the room froze in shock. My mom, sitting on his other side, gasped and grabbed his hand. Looking at her wide eyes, I realized my stepfather hadn’t discussed this with her beforehand at all. “Honey…” My stepfather gave her a reassuring nod. The faces of the three girls were much easier to read. They stared at me in absolute horror, then nervously glanced behind us at Caleb and Victoria, their expressions filled with a mix of shock and mockery. I peeked over my shoulder too. Caleb and Victoria were staring at me with incredibly complex expressions. I pretended not to notice and quickly looked forward again. My stepfather gave his two older children a brief, unreadable glance before turning back to the guests. “I strongly suggest you focus on raising your children properly. With behavior like this, I wouldn’t dare let the future heirs of the Sterling empire associate with them.” The three sets of parents looked absolutely terrified, forcefully pushing their daughters’ heads down to apologize to me again and again. I didn’t want them staying here any longer, knowing their presence was only further aggravating Caleb and Victoria. I also knew these apologies were entirely forced by my stepfather’s power, not genuine remorse. So, I looked up at my stepfather and patted my stomach. “Baby… hungry.” The guests and the Sterling siblings jumped again. They had probably been utterly convinced I was completely mute! My stepfather delivered his final sentence. “Chloe Sterling will be attending the prestigious Vanguard Academy alongside her brother and sister. I expect her school life to be pleasant and peaceful.” “Show them out.” Vanguard Academy was famous across the state. It was the premier incubator for the elite children of City D. Every single student who graduated from Vanguard went on to become a titan in their respective industries. Because of the severe bullying I had endured in kindergarten before, I was terrified of going back to school. I sat in the back of the Maybach, looking miserable. But I didn’t realize that my stepfather had used his immense wealth and power to skip me straight into the first grade. Standing outside the classroom door, my mom kissed my cheek. “Go on, sweetie. Don’t be scared. Mom and Dad will always have your back.” When the homeroom teacher introduced me, she specifically mentioned that I “wasn’t very talkative,” and thoughtfully seated me next to the class president. The class president was a girl with a short bob and huge, bright eyes. She curiously stuck her hand out toward me. “Hi! I’m Samantha Vance.” I shook her hand and gave her a sweet, shy smile. All the teachers knew about my “special situation,” so they rarely called on me during class. During recess, since I didn’t know anyone yet, no one really approached me either. And just like that, my first week of school passed peacefully. No one knew I had a stutter. “She is so quiet. She can literally go a whole day without saying a single word.” “Now that you mention it, have you ever actually heard her voice?” “I haven’t. But Samantha talked to her.” The only word I had ever said to Samantha was “Thanks.” Because the elementary school let out at a different time than the middle school, I rarely rode home in the same car as Caleb and Victoria. But today, they both showed up at the elementary wing to pick me up. I had no idea they were basically celebrities at Vanguard. The reaction from my classmates told me everything I needed to know about their popularity. “Oh my god! Caleb and Victoria Sterling are your older brother and sister?! Chloe, why didn’t you tell us?!” “I heard they’re ranked number one in their grade again this year! And Victoria is representing Vanguard at an international violin competition!” “I would die for their autographs! Chloe, can you help me get them?” “They’re literally the king and queen of Vanguard. No wonder Chloe is so pretty.” I looked exactly like my mom. That was the one thing I was most proud of. 04 From that day on, my popularity skyrocketed. Every kid in class crowded around my desk, desperately asking for gossip about Caleb and Victoria. Even if they badgered me for ten minutes and I only gave them a one or two-word answer, they didn’t think I was being rude. They thought I was being “aloof and cool.” They thought that was exactly how a member of the Sterling family should act. Samantha helped me fend them off, using her authority as class president to order them to stop bothering me while I was studying. And just like that, my secret remained safe. It wasn’t that I was intentionally trying to deceive everyone. I just couldn’t bear the thought of them looking at me through the warped, judgmental lens of my stutter again. When the Summer Gala rolled around, my homeroom teacher asked if I was interested in performing. I frantically shook my head. The teacher looked surprised. “Your brother and sister are always so heavily involved in the social events and performances. I assumed you would enjoy it too. Vanguard’s galas attract a lot of major media outlets and directors from the top arts academies. A lot of A-list talent gets scouted from Vanguard. The competition for performance slots is incredibly fierce.” I kept shaking my head. They probably all assumed I was a pampered little princess groomed for the spotlight since birth, just like Victoria. But I wasn’t. I didn’t have a single special talent. I had no business being on a stage. As I walked out of the teacher’s office, Samantha suddenly appeared beside me. “Chloe, can you do me a huge favor? I really want to perform. I can play the piano.” I stared at her silently. “Chloe, listen to me. I know you have a speech impediment. You’re not being ‘aloof’ by not talking, you’re just terrified people will make fun of your stutter. If you recommend me to the teacher, whether I get the slot or not, I swear on my life I will keep your secret forever. Please?” A crushing wave of depression hit me. I pressed my lips tightly together. When did I expose myself? How did she know? I gripped the hem of my skirt, thinking it over. Finally, I nodded at Samantha, turned around, and walked back into the office. “T-t-t-teacher… I… I… r-recommend… S-s-samantha.” By the time I forced the sentence out, my face was burning crimson. The teacher knew about my condition. She gently patted my head. “Chloe is such a good girl. Your voice is beautiful. Will you try to talk to me a little more from now on?” I stood there, frozen, my face practically on fire. “Samantha actually nominated herself earlier. Now that she has your recommendation, I’ll definitely give it serious consideration. Head back to class now, Chloe!” Samantha was waiting for me in the hallway. She looked at me with eager, glowing eyes. “Chloe! How did it go? What did she say?” Since she already knew about my stutter, there was no point in hiding it anymore. “T-teacher… s-said… she’ll… th-think about it.” I kept my head down, completely missing the flash of disgust that crossed Samantha’s eyes. She jumped up and down excitedly. “Thank you, Chloe! It’s official: you are my absolute best friend at Vanguard!” I have a friend now? That phrase sparked a tiny, fragile flame of happiness in my chest. Samantha got the performance slot she wanted. And she kept her promise, acting like a loyal bodyguard. Whenever any classmate tried to talk to me for more than a minute, she would swoop in and chase them away with a few sharp words. Over time, she became the only person around me. Everyone else started giving me a wide berth. A few times, she mentioned her parents were busy and couldn’t pick her up, asking if my family’s driver could drop her off. I figured it was a small favor and the driver wouldn’t mind, so I agreed. I never once considered what these “small favors” were doing to Samantha’s ego, or what she was doing with them. Until one day, Caleb and Victoria showed up at our classroom door, their faces like thunderclouds. “Who the hell is going around telling people my sister is a stupid, rich target who’s easy to manipulate?!” Samantha, whose hand was currently buried in my backpack fishing for my imported chocolates, froze. She looked up at them in sheer panic. 05 Caleb and Victoria marched me straight to the homeroom teacher’s office. They left me in the waiting area while they went inside to talk to her. “Chloe is young and incredibly innocent. We expect her teachers to keep a closer eye on her, rather than letting her be blindly used and manipulated by other students.” “Chloe has trauma. She doesn’t like to speak. But that is absolutely no excuse for her to be isolated and targeted by vicious rumors.” The teacher rubbed her temples, letting out a soft sigh. “I’ve been trying to encourage Chloe to interact with the students around her. I’ve rearranged the seating chart multiple times, but she simply refuses to talk.” “And she firmly refused to change desk partners.” “Chloe’s grades are excellent. She’s a brilliant child. But she is incredibly strong-willed. If she doesn’t want to change, it’s very difficult for external factors to force her.” Caleb’s voice was hard. “We will handle speaking to Chloe. But that Samantha girl… you need to deal with her.” Victoria chimed in, “The Vance family is already out there using the Sterling name to secure business deals.” The homeroom teacher at Vanguard Academy was no fool. She gave a solemn nod, absolutely unwilling to lose her prestigious job over this mess. Victoria held my hand as we walked to the car. I looked up at her, and after a long silence, I finally asked, “D-does… e-everyone… kn-know… I… s-stutter?” They both crouched down to my eye level. “Are you sad, Chloe?” I nodded. I knew Samantha was the one who had spread the secret behind my back. She was the only person in the entire school I had interacted with. She told me I was her best friend. And she lied to me. Caleb effortlessly scooped me up into his arms. “Chloe, you need to understand something. You are a daughter of the Sterling family. Whether you stutter, or whether you’re completely mute, you are an existence they can only dream of reaching. They should be begging to be your friend. You never have to compromise yourself for them.” I didn’t understand that. Because of my stutter, my biological parents got divorced. Because of my stutter, my mom and I were thrown out onto the street by my grandparents. In my mind, stuttering was the worst crime in the world. If I didn’t stutter, my mom wouldn’t have had to suffer so much humiliation and pain for me. So I thought it was completely normal for people to mock me. I thought it was normal they didn’t want to be my friends. I thought my stutter made me inherently bad. “With one word from you, Samantha got to perform on the main stage. You let her ride in your Maybach, and she paraded it around school. Everyone was jealous of her. Her parents went around bragging that she was the Sterling heiress’s best friend, and their business partners literally gave them better deals just to get on your good side.” “We saw all of these little tricks, and we didn’t care. But she crossed a massive line when she started badmouthing you behind your back. She called you ‘the little stutterer.’ She called you a ‘burden.’” “A manipulative, two-faced snake like her doesn’t deserve to be your friend,” Victoria said firmly. Samantha was forced to write a formal apology letter and read it aloud three times in front of the entire class. Her face turned beet red, and by the third time, she was sobbing uncontrollably. The very next day, she transferred out of Vanguard Academy. I didn’t have a desk partner anymore, and I felt incredibly depressed. My stepfather and mom heard about the incident, and that afternoon, they personally drove to the school to take all three of us out to a fancy dinner. When the bell rang, it started pouring rain. I hadn’t brought an umbrella. The teacher told me to wait in the lobby while she went to grab one for me. Suddenly, a girl from my class stepped forward. “Teacher, we’re walking the same way. I’ll walk her to the gate!” She popped her umbrella open. “Let’s go. What are you standing there for? You look stupid.” It wasn’t until we reached the school gates and I saw my stepfather’s Bentley that I gathered the courage to speak. “Th-thank… you.” She lifted her chin arrogantly. “Don’t get it twisted, I’m not trying to kiss up to the Sterling family. My family’s business isn’t as massive as yours, but we’re doing just fine.” “Also, your voice is actually really nice. So what if you stutter? Why do you care so much about what other people think? Grow a backbone.” Her name was Mia Thorne, the heiress of the Thorne Corporation. She was incredibly haughty and her words were always blunt and abrasive, which was why she didn’t have many friends either.

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When I arrived at the private club, Liam was sitting at the head of the table. His expression was controlled, but the corners of his eyes were red. A circle of trust-fund kids were holding their breath. Seeing me felt like seeing their savior. They practically stood at attention: “Good evening, Mrs. Sterling.” The girl sitting next to him panicked when she saw me. Her eyes red, she turned to him and pleaded, “Liam, I’m back. Are you really going to go home with her?” I walked over and picked up a bottle of red wine from the table. “Liam. Go home, or get your head cracked open. Pick one.” 01 The private room was so quiet that all you could hear was the uneven breathing of the people inside. Liam lifted his heavy eyelids to look at me. In that single movement, I could clearly sense his intense irritation. The rich kids standing in a circle, terrified of being caught in the crossfire, silently shuffled backward to a safe distance. I stood perfectly still in front of them, gripping the neck of the wine bottle. After a long pause, a smirk tugged at the corner of Liam’s mouth. “Who called your sister-in-law here?” The moment the words left his mouth, all the color drained from the face of the girl sitting next to him. She looked like she was about to shatter into a million pieces. She clung to Liam’s arm, her voice trembling as she asked: “Liam, are you… are you really going home with her?” I let out a scoff, pulled out a chair, sat down, and looked her dead in the eye. “Chloe, while I’m still trying to hold myself back, I suggest you get out of here on your own.” A single tear slid down her cheek. “Since you know who I am, do you also know…” I cut her off. “I know. I know you’re the one that got away. I know he still keeps a framed picture of you on his desk.” A shy blush crept up Chloe’s neck. A sudden spark lit up her eyes as she gently rested her head against Liam’s shoulder. “Liam, I came back for you. Divorce her. Even after all these years, marrying you is still my biggest dream.” “I know you aren’t happy. You’ve suffered so much these past few years.” Liam tried desperately to maintain his usual poker face, but the bulging vein on his temple betrayed the intense emotions surging within him. He slowly raised his hand, reaching out to gently stroke Chloe’s back. I smiled coldly, shattering their tender moment. “Well, Mr. Sterling. It seems you don’t want to go home.” “My apologies, then.” I raised my arm high and brought the heavy glass wine bottle crashing down directly onto Chloe’s head! 02 CRASH! The sound of shattering glass was instantly drowned out by the terrified screams erupting in the room. Chloe, deathly pale, stared at Liam, who had thrown himself over her, shielding her in his arms. A mixture of dark red wine and bright red blood was gushing from a deep gash on his temple. “Liam! Liam! Are you okay?! Oh my god, are you okay…” Chloe scrambled out of Liam’s protective embrace, her hands shaking violently as she helped him sit back down. Frantically, she grabbed a fistful of napkins from the table and pressed them desperately against his bleeding forehead. The napkins were instantly soaked through with blood. Chloe whipped her head around and screamed at me like a madwoman: “You psycho!!! Are you trying to kill someone?! How could Liam ever marry a psycho like you?!” Liam caught his breath after a moment. He took the napkins from her, wiped the mix of blood and wine out of his eyes, and pulled Chloe back. “Chloe, don’t provoke her.” “Are you hurt anywhere?” Chloe’s lip trembled. She held out her hand. There was a tiny, maybe one-centimeter scratch from a piece of flying glass. Liam instantly jumped up, a look of absolute panic on his face. He carefully cradled her hand and started leading her toward the door. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital right now.” I looked down at my own hand, hanging limply by my side. Blood dripped steadily from my fingertips, soaking into the plush carpet, disappearing without a trace. I had been running on fumes all day at the corporate office. I had a massive meeting with a crucial client and barely managed to choke down a few bites of a sandwich for lunch. The second I finally got off work and saw the text someone sent me, I rushed straight to this club. Liam. I was exhausted, starving, and sleep-deprived. And I was bleeding, too. How did the brave boy who once scraped his hands raw and took a brutal beating to save me from kidnappers turn into this complete stranger? A wave of severe dizziness hit me. The room spun wildly. Purely on instinct, I grabbed the edge of the table and collapsed heavily into the chair. I heard someone call out to him: “Liam, your wife is bleeding too! She doesn’t look good at all!” Liam’s voice drifted back from down the hall. “She’s a tough woman. She can handle it herself.” I looked up. His retreating back was so resolute, so utterly unfeeling. Whatever. This just meant that when I finally closed the net, I wouldn’t have to feel a single ounce of guilt. 03 I looked up at the trust-fund kids. These notoriously arrogant playboys of the city’s elite were standing perfectly still, looking at me with genuine concern. I smiled and waved them off. “I’m starving. Someone get some food in here.” “Yes, ma’am! Right away!” Tyler, the heir to the club’s ownership, was the most eager to please. He immediately barked orders at the staff to clear the table and bring out a fresh feast. Watching them scurry around, it felt just like when we were kids, and they used to follow Liam and me around, calling us “Big Bro” and “Big Sis.” When did “Big Bro” stay “Big Bro,” but “Big Sis” turn into “Sister-in-law”? Probably ever since I was five years old, when my nanny kidnapped me for ransom. Liam, who was only eight at the time, managed to piece together the tiny clues the nanny left behind and found me before the police ever did. When I woke up from passing out, I was strapped to Liam’s skinny back. He was gritting his teeth, his legs trembling under the weight, slowly carrying me out of that terrifying abandoned factory. That image was permanently burned into my soul. The elders in our families always joked that for the rest of his life, I would be Liam’s one and only exception. His favorite person. But… then Liam met the girl of his dreams. Unlike me, who lost my mother in that kidnapping and was strictly raised to be a ruthless corporate heir—everything I did was for the family business and for revenge. But Chloe? She would never raise her voice at Liam. She would never aggressively demand he read financial journals or learn eight different languages. She would sit quietly by his side, watching him with a gentle, adoring smile. She was willing to cook for him. Willing to spend hours sitting with him in lectures she didn’t even understand. She did all these things for him. Things I could never do. The environment I grew up in only taught me how to calculate risks and weigh pros and cons. Until Chloe got into a huge fight with Liam because he was just too rich. She said she could never fit into his world. She turned around and flew across the ocean. Liam didn’t chase after her. I knew he had massive ambitions. He wanted control of the Sterling family empire, and he wanted control of mine—the Vance family empire. Before he secured both empires, he wouldn’t abandon me for Chloe. So, when Liam proposed, I said yes without hesitation. Liam gave me every ounce of romance that money could buy. I enjoyed it with a clear conscience. I knew better than anyone that the Sterling empire and the Vance empire would eventually both be mine. All the beautiful things he bought with his money? I was just enjoying my inheritance early. I ate my food in silence, my brain rapidly running through every step of my master plan. I had been planning this for over a decade. I refused to let there be a single flaw. Maybe I was too quiet, because Tyler couldn’t take the tension anymore. He slammed his hand on the table and stood up. “Sarah! You’ve never shown any mercy to the women buzzing around Liam!” “Why did you back down today?!” Way to poke the bear. The entire table went dead silent. I smiled faintly. “Because she’s Chloe.” The “one that got away” is a lethal weapon. One strike, and it’s fatal. I pulled out my phone. The screen was completely blank. No missed calls, no texts. I figured Chloe’s “life-threatening” scratch was probably fully healed by now. 04 Just as I expected, Liam didn’t come home that night. I sat in the living room the entire night, watching the city go from pitch black at midnight to the gray light of 7 AM. I knew my era had finally arrived. When the clock struck 8, I was dressed impeccably. I used heavy concealer to hide the dark circles under my eyes and stepped into my chauffeured car right on time. I never expected to see Chloe at the office. She was wearing a brand-new, tailored business suit, sitting at the desk in the outer office of Liam’s executive suite. When she saw me walk past, she immediately stood up and offered a bright, professional smile. “Good morning, Ms. Vance.” The smug, victorious smirk playing on her lips, paired with her innocent, harmless face, made my blood boil. My face darkened. I immediately called the HR Director up and loudly demanded to know what the hell was going on. Since when did the company start hiring random strays off the street? Chloe looked so humiliated she wanted to sink into the floor. Her face flushed bright red, tears welled in her eyes, and under my aggressive interrogation, she couldn’t utter a single word. When I get angry, no one in the company dares to breathe. After delivering a few harsh reprimands, I suddenly felt bored by the whole charade. I waved my hand dismissively at the HR Director: “Fire her. Give Ms. Chloe whatever severance package is legally required, down to the last penny.” Chloe, who had been keeping her head down, suddenly snapped her head up. Tears streamed down her face like broken pearls. “Ms. Vance, I’m begging you. I really need this job. Please, don’t fire me.” “You live high up in your ivory towers, while people like me only survive on your charity. Are you really going to strip away the one small right I have to make a living?!” Such classic, manipulative victim-blaming. I lifted my gaze, looking past her trembling shoulders to the heavy oak door behind her. Right on cue, the door swung open, and Liam stood there, his face like thunder. “Sarah Vance. You might come from old money, but that doesn’t give you the right to throw your weight around and bully people.” “She is my executive assistant. Not yours.” With just one sentence, he drew a massive, uncrossable line in the sand. He walked forward, took Chloe’s hand, looked around at the terrified staff, and announced in a booming voice: “From this day forward, Ms. Chloe is my executive assistant. I take full responsibility for every word she says and every action she takes.” So this was what his ‘exception’ looked like. I didn’t say a word. I took two steps back, turned around, and walked back to my own office. Right before it was time to leave for the day, my assistant reminded me that I had an incredibly important gala to attend with Liam that night. A massive contract I had been negotiating for six months was riding on this dinner. I took several deep breaths, psyching myself up. I changed into my evening gown, touched up my makeup, and walked over to Liam’s office. Just as I raised my hand to knock, the door opened from the inside. Chloe, wearing a stunning evening gown, was walking out arm-in-arm with Liam. They were laughing and chatting happily. I froze in my tracks. It was early autumn. A draft blew through the hallway, chilling my bare shoulders. Liam stopped walking and shot me a look of pure, icy indifference. “From now on, my Executive Assistant will accompany me to these social events.” “We won’t need to trouble you anymore, Ms. Vance.” The two of them walked past me toward the elevators. “Liam, I’ve been personally managing this project for six months.” Liam’s voice drifted back to me, growing fainter as the elevator doors opened. “Starting today, it’s being handled by my Executive Assistant.” 05 Liam personally intervened and signed the contract on Chloe’s behalf. Before the project even officially launched, the paperwork authorizing Chloe’s massive commission payout landed on my desk. I refused to sign it and sent the paperwork straight back, untouched. Even without the commission check, it didn’t stop Chloe from becoming the most famous woman in the corporate headquarters overnight. Her fame even spread to our business partners. That day, I received a call from Chairman Chen, one of our oldest associates. “Sarah, what have you been so busy with lately? You haven’t come by to have tea with your Uncle Chen in ages.” I laughed. “Uncle Chen, you’re the busy one! How do you even have time to call me?” Chairman Chen hesitated for a long time before finally saying: “Liam recently bought a standalone luxury villa from one of my developments. The registered owner on the deed is Chloe.” “They’ve probably already moved in.” The teacup in my hand tilted sharply, spilling hot tea all over my desk. Counting from the very first night he didn’t come home, Liam had been gone for 29 consecutive days. My master plan was fully in motion. I had gone from lying awake all night with anxiety to falling asleep the second my head hit the pillow. I was carrying the immense weight of two family empires on my shoulders. Petty romantic drama was not the main theme of my life. Tyler and his group of trust-fund friends had reached out to me multiple times, wanting to intervene and get justice for me. I stopped them every time. Everything was going exactly according to plan. I didn’t feel wronged or victimized in the slightest. These kids didn’t understand. When two evenly matched powerhouses collide, they can build an empire together… or they can completely destroy each other. The knot tied by time could only be unraveled by time.

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During the most desperately broke year of my life, I used an anonymous alt account to cyberbully the university’s arrogant billionaire heir every single day. [So what if you’re handsome? You still just have two eyes and a nose.] [Wearing that white button-down every day like you’re starring in a movie. Stop acting so pretentious.] [I hate fake, high-and-mighty rich people like you the most! Why isn’t your money mine?!] [I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you!] Later, my phone broke and I had to send it in for repairs. When I finally turned it back on a few days later, my messages exploded. The billionaire heir: [Why didn’t you say you hated me today?] [Did you find a new target?] [Are they sexier than me?] [Image: v-line_abs.jpg] [Or do they have more money than me?] [Image: bank_account_balance.jpg] [I’m not showing you this for any specific reason. Don’t overthink it.] [Actually, you can overthink it if you want.] [But I’m not easy. Only my girlfriend gets to enjoy my body and my money.] [Seeing as how desperate you are for cash, I suppose I could consider you.] [But you have to make the first move.] [Say something.] [Fine, you win. I accept your pursuit.] [Baby, what are you doing? Come pay attention to your boyfriend (‘ε`)~] Me, staring at my newly fixed phone: [?] 1 I was an incredibly broke, deeply cynical college student. My mother was severely ill in the hospital, and my father was drowning in gambling debts. Every dime of my college tuition was paid for by student loans. While everyone else was enjoying the golden years of college—eating out, partying, traveling, and taking selfies—I was grinding through four or five part-time jobs a day just to survive. I was worked like a dog. Every night, I’d drag my exhausted body back to the dorms, only to be forced to listen to my rich-girl roommate casually flex her lifestyle. Which elite gala she attended, what artisanal pastries she ate, which luxury designer bags her endless line of suitors bought her. After working myself to the bone all day, I’d lie in bed, physically exhausted and desperate for sleep. But listening to her brag made my eyes burn with so much jealousy I couldn’t close them. I had to scrape together tuition for the next semester. I had to stay hyper-vigilant against the debt collectors showing up at our door. On my phone, the hospital bills for my mom’s treatment updated daily, draining my account like a leaky faucet. Even if I did absolutely nothing all day, the money still vanished from my account, penny by agonizing penny. I was terrifyingly broke! Meanwhile, a single piece of jewelry on my roommate’s wrist cost more than several months of my blood, sweat, and tears. Whenever she complained about how “boring” her life was… I practically ground my molars into dust. Why can’t I be the one who’s bored?! 2 Tonight, just as I was finally drifting off to sleep. CRASH— Something was violently smashed onto the floor. I jolted awake instantly. I had finally found a moment to rest, and being violently woken up made a fire ignite in my chest. I looked over and saw my other roommates crowding around the rich girl, trying to comfort her. “Lily, it’s Carter Sterling! He’s literally the king of the university!” “Yeah, if my dad told me I was arranged to marry him, I’d be smiling in my sleep.” “I heard his family’s wealth is basically a GDP, and they donated four buildings to the school!” Lily kept her chin high, her face twisted in an arrogant sneer as she threw another textbook on the floor. “So what?! I hate that my family is trying to arrange my marriage! Am I just an object for them to control? I don’t care if he’s the sole heir to the Sterling conglomerate, I just don’t like him!” Hearing that sentence, my teeth ground together, my face contorting with rage. If you don’t want the arranged marriage, give it to me! I’ll take it! Marrying the heir to the Sterling empire meant my entire life would be permanently set on easy mode. Listening to Lily’s pathetic complaints, the fire in my chest grew hotter. Thinking about having to wake up at 6:00 AM tomorrow for my first shift made me even angrier! Some people had everything handed to them without lifting a finger. I was basically crawling on the ceiling in the dark, consumed by pure, unadulterated jealousy. The frustration just wouldn’t dissipate. I knew who Carter Sterling was. He was the most famous guy on campus; finding his WeChat ID wasn’t exactly difficult. The hard part was getting him to accept the friend request. After my roommates finally went to sleep. I stared at my phone screen with a deadpan expression. I logged into my burner account and sent him a friend request: [So what if you’re handsome? You’re still totally unlikable.] I knew he would never accept it. It was purely a way to vent my toxic rage. My phone buzzed. A few seconds later, the screen showed he had accepted my friend request. Him: [?] My fingers, which had been typing out a second venomous insult, froze. His profile picture was a vast, pristine blue ocean. It stood in stark contrast to my profile picture, which was just a pitch-black square. It made me feel even more like a rat hiding in a sewer. In the safety of the dark, I shed my daytime persona of the frugal, hardworking, sweet girl. I typed out a string of bitter, spiteful words: [Do you think sending a single question mark makes you look cool and aloof?] [Stop acting so pretentious stop acting so pretentious stop acting so pretentious.] Him: [Who are you?] Me: [A cynical, spiteful beautiful girl.] Him: […Why did you add me?] Me: [I hate how you rich people always look down on everyone. Just because you asked doesn’t mean I have to tell you. I won’t!] Him: [Fine. Blocked.] When I tried to send another message, a red exclamation mark appeared. But honestly? I felt incredible. I had found a brand-new way to vent my miserable life. Every time my rich roommate showed off in the dorm, or threw a loud tantrum while I was trying to sleep. I used my burner account to unleash a barrage of cyberbullying on her arranged fiancé, the Sterling heir. I just kept sending him new friend requests. [Why are you sleeping? I can’t sleep, so you don’t get to sleep either!] [I hate fake, high-and-mighty rich people like you the most! You have everything, yet you still act so moody and dramatic!] [Everyone only surrounds you because of your money! Without your money, you’re nothing!] [Why isn’t your money mine?! Ahhhhhh why!!] [I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you!] I treated Carter Sterling like my personal emotional dumpster. I gleefully chanted my dark, toxic curses. Carter Sterling: […Enough.] The system showed we were friends again. When did he accept my friend request this time? Me: [Did I give you permission to accept my request? Block me again.] Him: [Did I do something to offend you?] Me: [Yes!] Him: [What?] Me: [You have more money than me. I hate everyone who has more money than me.] Him: […Do you ever sleep? You always message me in the middle of the night.] Is it because I don’t want to sleep?! It’s because your arranged fiancée is staying up late watching K-dramas with no headphones and ruining my sleep! If I can’t sleep, no one gets to sleep. I typed darkly: [Because cynical beautiful girls only roam at night. By offending me, you’ve offended the rat in the sewer!] He replied with a sticker of a sighing cartoon cat. My heart felt immensely lighter. After expelling all that toxic energy, my physical health genuinely felt better. I fell into a deep, comfortable sleep. 3 A month later, the university held its annual sports festival. I woke up at the crack of dawn to volunteer, handing out water to the athletes. Carter Sterling was there. On the basketball court, he and his teammates moved with flawless synergy. His movements were fluid and explosive. Every time he went for a dunk, his jersey rode up, exposing a glimpse of his abs, causing the girls in the bleachers to scream like they were at a concert. It was giving me a massive headache. I already wasn’t sleeping well. I stared blankly at the golden boy dominating the court. His jawline was razor-sharp, his nose perfectly straight. Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose down to his collarbone. A girl shyly handed him a bottle of water. He took it and offered a polite “Thank you.” Courteous and gentlemanly. The girl covered her face and ran away, her heart practically beating out of her chest. She even bumped into me in her panic. I cursed internally. Noticing Carter’s gaze drift my way, I slapped on a bright, customer-service smile and told him he played a great game. The second he turned away, I aggressively rolled my eyes. I’m the one working the hardest here! I still had to clean up the entire court later. I crawled back into my dark mental space. I take back what I said before. Besides being filthy rich, Carter Sterling also had a face that could ruin lives. Why did the universe favor him so much, while I was treated like an NPC? Handing him water was treated like some supreme honor. It’s not fair! Those basketball shoes he was wearing cost enough to pay off all my dad’s gambling debts. And he was just casually stepping on them. My face twisted in pure bitterness. “Excuse me, are you Chloe?” Suddenly, the guy who had just walked away turned back around. I didn’t have time to fix my face, so my features just twitched awkwardly. “Are you okay?” His voice was laced with genuine concern. Carter was much taller than me. Standing right in front of me, his shadow completely swallowed me. I guiltily covered my twitching face, terrified he’d realize I was the cyberbully: “I’m fine, I-I just… my blood sugar is a little low.” He looked at me with gentle detachment. “Carrying all this water by yourself must be exhausting.” He bent down and helped me carry the remaining cases of water. He even called over a few of his friends to help me pick up all the empty plastic bottles left on the bleachers and throw them in the trash. The sun was blinding. My eyes stung with tears. Why is this billionaire heir suddenly acting like a saint?! Doesn’t he know I can recycle those empty bottles for cash?! My heart bled, but my last shred of poor-person dignity wouldn’t let me scream at the billionaire and his elite frat brothers: “Put the bottles down! Let me do it!” After they finished cleaning up, Carter saw my expression of utter devastation. He assumed I was just overwhelmed with gratitude. “No problem, it was nothing. Our game caused a mess, it’s the least we could do.” Fake! I couldn’t fathom why the school’s golden boy was suddenly being so helpful. Did my dark, cynical rants actually make him start pitying the working class? As they walked away, they weren’t quite out of earshot, and I could hear their conversation. “Carter, why are you suddenly playing the knight in shining armor? Trying to hit on her?” “No way. Carter didn’t even look twice at the girl from the arts campus. Why would he go for some broke girl whose sweater is literally pilling? You know what a clean freak he is.” “Speaking of which, hasn’t Carter been chatting up some girl online lately? How’s that going? Did you hit a home run yet?” The guys erupted into laughter. Carter’s sharp eyes narrowed, and he laughed, cursing at them. “Fuck off, all of you.” “You guys have way too much free time.” I knew it! Just a typical, sleazy rich playboy. He has an arranged fiancée, and he’s still casually hooking up with girls online. After silently roasting him with pure disgust, I sprinted to the trash cans to fish out the empty water bottles. They were still worth money! 4 The world of a poor, cynical college student is incredibly monotonous. Part-time jobs, classes, sleep. Surviving was fine, dying was also acceptable. Lying in bed, I unlocked my phone, desperate to look at something that would bring me a tiny ounce of joy. I opened my main WeChat account, and the first thing I saw was Lily posting photos of her three new Hermès Birkin bags. Disgusting! I switched to my burner account. And the first thing I saw was Carter posting videos of himself racing sports cars and working out at the gym. Pretentious! My vision went dark. I felt even more exhausted. I am going to war with you rich people! I started maliciously harassing Carter again. [Why do you have so much money?! I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you!] He seemed to be in a good mood today, and actually replied. Him: [Are you really struggling for money?] [I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you!!!] Carter Sterling has transferred $5,000 to you. Me: [!!] I could collect recycling for years and never see that kind of money. Him: [Do you still hate me?] Me: [Don’t think that…] Carter Sterling has transferred $50,000 to you. I clutched my chest. I counted the zeros. Tens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands… [Do you still hate me?] As someone who literally saved money in increments of ten dollars, I had never witnessed such a direct, aggressive display of wealth. My morals were severely tested. Me: [Honestly… you’re not that bad.] He sent a voice memo. I instinctively tapped it. The man was laughing. His voice was cold, yet incredibly magnetic, the final syllable dragging out lazily. “I’m just… ‘not that bad’?” I almost dropped my phone. Why is he using that tone of voice?! Did he really think I would be seduced by his fake charm? He had merely blinded me temporarily with his overwhelming wealth. [Of course you’re just ‘not that bad’. Don’t think that just because you have money, you’re a flawless human being.] Him: [For example?] Me: [Wearing that white button-down when you play basketball is incredibly pretentious. And in the library, when that girl confessed to you, you ripped up her love letter right in front of her and threw it on the floor. Did you ever think about the janitor who has to clean that up…] Him: [Are you stalking me?] Stalking him?! As if! It was just that every time he caused a scene, I happened to be working a shift nearby. Is it my fault I have too many part-time jobs?! [I wouldn’t waste my time stalking you. I wish you would disappear from my sight forever.] Him: [So it sounds like we’ve definitely met in person.] Realizing he was quietly interrogating me to figure out my identity, I panicked and immediately deleted the rest of my drafted complaints. No matter what he sent after that, I only replied: [I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you!] He suddenly changed the subject: [You hate when I wear white button-downs. So what do you like? I’ll wear whatever you want.] What kind of line was that? Did he really mean he’d wear whatever I told him to? I let my malice run wild: [I like it when you wear absolutely nothing, and I walk you around on a dog leash.]

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In the morning, Arthur and I finalized our divorce. By the afternoon, he had taken our daughter and boarded a flight back to New York. Staring at the divorce decree in my hands, I realized this piece of paper was the sum total of our five-year marriage. I sold my house in Seattle and quit my job. With that, my last remaining ties to Seattle were severed. On the Amtrak train heading back to my hometown, I received a call from my daughter. She asked why I hadn’t gone with them to New York. I smiled and replied calmly, “Didn’t you cry and scream that you didn’t want me to be your mommy anymore?” “Don’t worry, you’ll have a new mommy very soon.” 01 When I arrived at my hometown, I saw my grandmother standing by the front door, leaning on her cane, looking out for me. Beside her was a cute little girl, staring at me with wide, curious eyes. In the past, whenever I saw a child, I would happily go over and give them a hug. But now… I didn’t like kids anymore. My grandmother told me she was the granddaughter of our neighbor, Mrs. Higgins. The girl’s parents had died in a tragic accident, leaving her as their only child, so she had been sent to live in the country with her grandmother. I nodded, a spark of sympathy igniting in my chest, but I still couldn’t bring myself to like children. The little girl looked at me with her big, round eyes and said, “Auntie, you’re so pretty.” I forced a tight smile, didn’t reply, and helped my grandmother back into the house. A little while later, Mrs. Higgins came over and took the girl home. In the middle of the night, the blaring sirens of an ambulance woke us up. I opened the door and saw Mrs. Higgins being loaded onto a stretcher. The little girl stood behind them, her face covered in snot and tears. Later, the police took the little girl away. Two days later, my grandmother told me with a heavy sigh that Mrs. Higgins had suffered a massive heart attack and hadn’t made it. I suddenly thought of that poor child, feeling a deep pang of sorrow. I asked my grandmother, “What about the little girl? Does she have any other relatives besides Mrs. Higgins?” My grandmother thought for a moment and told me she seemed to have an uncle in the next county over. I felt a sense of relief. At least the little girl would have a place to stay. The next morning, I opened the front door and found the little girl sitting on our neighbor’s porch, shivering violently. It was obvious. The uncle didn’t want to take her in and had sent her right back. My grandmother looked at my face and told me she wanted to adopt the girl. I didn’t say a word. I just took the little girl’s hand and marched straight to the police station to figure out her situation. In the end, I filled out the adoption paperwork. From that day on, a girl named Luna was officially part of our family. 02 After a month of chaotic adjustments, I finally settled down in my hometown. Luna used to be a very cheerful girl, but losing her family members one after another had taken a heavy toll on her. She went from a girl who loved to laugh to someone who was quiet and rigidly serious. Even though she was so young, she acted incredibly mature for her age. She learned to read my moods, helped me with chores, and even followed my grandmother into the vegetable garden to help carry her basket. Every time I saw how incredibly well-behaved Luna was, I couldn’t help but think of my own child, far away in New York. The little princess the Sterling family held in the palm of their hands: Chloe Sterling. If Chloe wanted to eat fresh steak, someone would probably buy her a whole ranch. If Chloe wanted to go swimming, someone would gift her a luxury resort. Luna often woke up crying in the middle of the night, asking if I was going to abandon her too. I would hold her tightly, stroke her hair, and answer, “No. Mommy wants to live a happy life, and I don’t want to make the people around me sad.” “So, Luna, Mommy is going to make sure you’re always happy. Do you believe Mommy?” She stayed silent for a long time, then hugged me fiercely. “Mommy, Luna will stay with you forever. Luna wants to make Mommy happy, too.” Time slipped away, little by little. Luna grew up day by day. When she turned seven, Luna started elementary school. For years, I picked her up and dropped her off every single day, rain or shine. I held Luna’s hand as we walked home. She was always very quiet on the way. Sometimes, when she saw other little girls throwing tantrums at their parents, Luna would just glance at them and tell me that people need to stay calm. I couldn’t help but laugh. Luna was becoming more and more mature every day. Just as we walked into our front yard, a little girl in a frilly tutu came sprinting toward me. “Mommy!” I took a step back, and Luna caught the little girl, who almost tripped. “Little girl, you have the wrong person.” I looked up at the man sitting across from my grandmother. “Sir, I think you have the wrong house.” Chloe instantly burst into loud, hysterical tears. I looked at my grandmother, who sighed helplessly and pulled Luna inside the house. The year I returned to my hometown, I told my grandmother I would never contact the Sterling family again. My grandmother knew my past and didn’t ask any questions. Later, after we adopted Luna, my grandmother rarely ever thought about the great-granddaughter with the nasty temper. Arthur walked over to me and stared, completely silent. I stepped to the side, leaving the path to the door open, silently telling them to leave. Chloe, seeing Luna go inside, wiped her tears and hugged my leg. “Mommy, I missed you so much! Please come back to New York with us!” I smiled gently, patted her head, took her hand, and led her outside the gate. I turned to Arthur. “Mr. Sterling. Let’s talk outside.” 03 Looking at Arthur’s familiar face, memories of our past flooded back. Everything from before felt like a story out of a cheesy novel—interesting but ultimately meaningless. My grandfather and Arthur’s grandfather had been in the military together when they were young. The story goes that my grandfather was honorably discharged early because he took a bullet saving Arthur’s grandfather’s life. Because of that, before my grandfather passed away, our families were incredibly close. The year I graduated from college, rumor had it that Arthur had beaten up the son of a prominent family in New York. The Sterling family, afraid of retaliation, sent Arthur to Seattle to lay low for a while. That day, I got a call from my grandfather asking me to pick someone up from the airport. As a recent grad, I had been running around all day doing interviews and was completely exhausted. Without even having time to wash up, I quickly gathered my things and rushed to the airport. When I arrived, Arthur had already been waiting at the entrance for a long time, looking incredibly impatient. He was sitting on his suitcase, casually scrolling through his phone, smiling one second and frowning the next. The moment I saw him, all my exhaustion from the day vanished. A boy shining as brightly as the summer sun is the easiest thing in the world to fall for. For me, a secret crush was just a pursuit—trying to get closer and closer to him, knowing I might never reach the finish line. I knew the gap between our families was like an uncrossable chasm, but I couldn’t stop my heart from racing. After Arthur spent half a month with my grandparents in the country, he got incredibly bored. Not long after, my grandfather called to tell me Arthur was moving to the city and asked me to help him find an apartment. I knew my grandparents were getting older and their lifestyle was completely different from Arthur’s. But I was so swamped with work that I completely forgot about it until I found Arthur standing outside my apartment door. Arthur didn’t complain. Once he found out I lived alone, he casually dragged his suitcase in and moved into my rented apartment. During the time we lived together, I learned that he had a childhood sweetheart back home. The whole reason he was exiled to Seattle was because his sweetheart had been harassed by a drunk friend of that prominent family. Furious, Arthur beat the guy up, but the other family had deep connections. Left with no choice, the Sterling family sent him to Seattle while they used their connections to smooth things over and beg for peace. Their childhood romance was the kind that made people envious. And as a bystander, I constantly heard about their passionate love, their cold wars, and their explosive arguments. During the three months Arthur lived in Seattle, he left traces of his existence all over my apartment. One night, knowing Arthur had gotten into another massive fight with his sweetheart, I assumed he had gone to bed early. When I opened the door, I found Arthur passed out on the floor. I quickly helped him onto the sofa and went to the kitchen to get him some water. In his drunken haze, Arthur pulled me into his arms and demanded to know why I had brought him home. In the chaos, I still don’t know exactly how the mistake happened. 04 I still remember the look in his eyes when he woke up. Cold, even ruthless. As if I was the one who had wronged him. Even though I had dated before, this was my first time doing something like this. That day, under his freezing glare, I ignored the soreness in my body and fled the apartment. That night, the name he kept calling out was hers. It was so passionate and lingering. Even during the years we were married, he never called my name like that. It truly was: The falling flowers yearn for the flowing stream, but the unfeeling stream cares not for the flowers. 05 There was a massive oak tree outside my grandmother’s house. In the summer, people would gather under its shade to cool off. But now it was late autumn. Aside from the falling leaves, there was only a chilling silence in the air. Arthur and I stood under the tree, the withered landscape stretching out behind us. “What do you want to say?” Arthur stared straight at me. “Have you forgotten the terms of our divorce agreement?” “What do you mean?” “Our marriage ended four years ago.” “Over the years, I’ve followed the agreement to the letter. I’ve never once tried to contact you.” “And based on Chloe’s reaction, someone in your family has been talking about me a lot.” “She was only three when we separated. There’s no way she would recognize me instantly like this.” Arthur took a step forward, turning to look at Chloe, who was playing nearby. “My grandfather constantly reminds her about you and shows her your pictures.” “If that’s the case, why did you show up at my house?” Arthur offered a faint smile. “We went to the house in the city and found out you sold it.” “So I brought her here to your hometown to find you.” I closed my eyes briefly and said, “You know you aren’t welcome here.” “I’ll let it slide this time, but take her and leave. Now.” I was a strict mother, but Chloe had been spoiled rotten by the Sterling family for years. If we spent any real time together, she would only hate me more. It was better for her to leave now. Arthur didn’t say anything. He just took Chloe’s hand and left. I thought that was the end of it. Two days later, Luna told me that Chloe had transferred to her school and was even in her class. When I heard that, I sat on my porch and thought for an entire afternoon. It didn’t matter. I had to keep living my life. I couldn’t let the two of them disrupt my peace. 06 My hometown wasn’t highly developed, but for people who had lived in the city their whole lives, it was like a hidden paradise. During my marriage, I had put my career on hold to be a full-time housewife. But now, I wanted to use my own two hands to build a better future. So, in my hometown, I opened a bed and breakfast, a restaurant, and a cozy little lounge. As more and more people visited the town, my businesses thrived. Influencers frequently came to my places to check in and post photos. Since Arthur hadn’t officially told me about the school transfer, I pretended I didn’t know. Then one day, Chloe was dropped off at my B&B by a chauffeur. The driver told me Arthur was away on a business trip for a few days. Unlike last time, Chloe didn’t throw a tantrum or try to drag me away. She just sat quietly on a stool and did her homework. With my tacit approval, the driver started dropping Chloe off every single day. Chloe looked exactly like me, but her temper and personality were entirely Arthur’s. When she was little, she would only sleep if I held her. Even eating and drinking required me to feed her personally; she wouldn’t touch food from anyone else. Looking at her chubby little face and hearing her sweet voice call me “Mommy”… I felt like all the suffering I had endured was completely worth it. But the moment she realized she didn’t have to depend on me… She learned how to lie. She learned how to throw tantrums at me. She even told me right to my face that she preferred “Auntie Evelyn,” who was always dressed in glamorous, expensive clothes. After Evelyn filled her head with stories of New York’s wealth and splendor… Chloe had angrily demanded: “Mommy, why are you keeping me and Daddy in this poor, ugly place?! I want Auntie Evelyn to take me to New York!” “I don’t like a mommy who just stays at home all day! I want Auntie Evelyn to take me out to play every day!”

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The day the mistress my fiancé had been keeping outside finally gave birth, he brought the newborn baby to me. He presented the child as my birthday gift. In front of everyone we knew, Carter Sterling looked me in the eye and asked if this baby was enough to finally make me give up on him. At that exact moment, I realized with absolute certainty that there was no future for us. So, after chasing him for seven long years, I chose to walk away. Seeing my surrender, Carter didn’t even spare a glance at the infant. He reached out, his touch intoxicatingly gentle, and brushed his fingers through my hair. “Chloe, it doesn’t matter who you fall for next. Your Carter will help you win his heart.” Later, when I ended up with his closest friend, the usually aloof and untouchable heir lost his mind, desperately trying to destroy the wedding everyone else was blessing. Someone told me that the girl Carter had been hiding away was pregnant. I didn’t believe it. But late that night, I still found myself knocking on Carter’s bedroom door after he got home. The sound of the shower echoed from inside. A minute later, Carter opened the door, a towel slung low around his waist. “Come in.” I instinctively clenched my hands into fists, looking at the fiancé I had secretly loved for seven years. I stepped slowly into his room. With his damp hair messy and falling into his eyes, he lounged lazily on the sofa, casually pouring himself a glass of red wine. He looked at me standing near the door with a playful, teasing glint in his eye. “What do you need?” I stared at the tips of my toes, unsure of how to even ask the question. I had always known. Carter didn’t like me. I was five years younger than him, just a fiancée forced upon him by his family. But I liked him. I liked him so much. I liked him so much that even though there was a constant, revolving door of women by his side, I never once questioned him about it. But today, after hearing that the girlfriend he had been keeping for months was pregnant, I lost my composure for the first time. I had to confront him. While I was lost in my thoughts, Carter had already walked over to me, wine glass in hand. His large, heavy hand clamped down on my chin, lifting my face with an unyielding grip. He brought the half-empty glass of wine to my lips. “Be a good girl, Chloe. Drink.” A low, unexplainably excited laugh rumbled in his chest. “Tomorrow is your birthday. I prepared a special gift for you. You’re going to love it.” That night, I completely forgot the reason I had gone to his room in the first place. I lay in bed, my cheeks burning, listening to my heart hammering wildly against my ribs. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow to arrive. Chapter 2 Carter threw an incredibly lavish birthday party for me this year, inviting practically everyone in our elite social circle. It was massive. But as the party dragged on and eventually drew to a close, the man who promised me a gift never showed up. I stood by the grand entrance, staring out into the driveway with stubborn hope. But the warm, flickering flame that had burned in my chest all night felt like it was slowly freezing into solid ice. Carter had always loathed our arranged engagement. He actively resisted it. Why would he suddenly change his personality overnight? Just as I turned around, utterly disappointed, a smooth, magnetic voice called out from the distance. “Chloe!” Dressed in a bespoke, immaculate black tuxedo, he had finally arrived. Trailing behind him was a middle-aged woman dressed like a nanny. She was holding something bundled in her arms. Carter looked at me, his eyes burning with intensity. “Did I keep you waiting? I had to go pick up your gift.” Under my anxious, expectant gaze, the nanny pulled back a corner of the blanket, revealing a tiny, sleeping infant. “My newborn son, Chloe. I’m giving him to you.” The smile on Carter’s face vanished instantly. He stared dead at me. In the fraction of a second our eyes locked, I suddenly understood exactly what the look in his eyes meant. Before anyone in the stunned crowd could react, Carter spoke again. “Chloe, is one bastard child enough to make you finally give up on me?” “If it’s not, give me a year. I’ll have another one for you.” I can’t even describe what I felt in that moment. It was as if every emotion had been drained out of my body. I felt like a marionette with its strings brutally severed. I just stood there, completely numb. Until the sharp, echoing crack of a slap shattered the deafening silence of the ballroom. Chapter 3 Muffled groans of pain seeped through the heavy oak doors of the study. Two solid wooden canes had already been broken across his back. But Carter refused to lower his head or admit he was wrong. When I knocked and pushed the door open, Carter was kneeling on the floor, his back perfectly straight. He shot me a look of pure, chilling indifference. As if he were making sure I heard him clearly, his lips parted. “I won’t marry Chloe. I’d rather die.” “If you try to force me down the aisle with her again, I’ll father an entire army of bastards for her to raise.” Grandpa Sterling’s eyes bulged with fury. He raised his heavy walking cane high into the air, ready to strike again. “How is Chloe inferior to any of those trashy women you parade around?! What exactly do you dislike about her?!” Carter turned his head. His detached, apathetic gaze landed heavily on me. Just that one look made my blood run freezing cold. We had been by each other’s sides for over a decade, yet he hadn’t developed even a microscopic shred of affection for me. In that moment, I knew with absolute certainty that there was no future for us. We were a dead end. “Grandpa Sterling, please cancel the engagement.” I looked up, meeting the old man’s heartbroken, pitying eyes, and slowly slid the heirloom jade bangle off my wrist. “I don’t believe I’m inferior to anyone. If he doesn’t love me, someone else will.” Under my unwavering insistence, we formally returned our engagement tokens. The engagement that had tied us together for over ten years was finally, exactly as he wanted, severed. It would no longer chain him down. Carter slowly, painfully pushed himself up from the floor. A flicker of genuine shock flashed through his eyes. He never expected me to give up on him, and he definitely didn’t expect me to do it so decisively. “Chloe, can you really stop yourself from clinging to me?” I nodded. Carter’s gaze lingered on me, seemingly still doubting the weight of my promise. I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. “Carter… I don’t love you anymore.” His eyelashes fluttered. He stood in silence for a long moment before letting out a soft, almost imperceptible, “Mm.” When the nanny rushed in holding the screaming, crying newborn, Carter didn’t even spare his son a single glance. Instead, he closed the distance between us, destroying any path of retreat. He reached out, his touch intoxicatingly gentle, and brushed his fingers through my hair. “Chloe, it doesn’t matter who you fall for next. Your Carter will help you win his heart.” I didn’t answer him that day. Because starting from that exact moment, I had permanently evicted him from my universe. Chapter 4 The day I moved out of the Sterling estate, I didn’t take a single thing that had to do with Carter. I politely refused Grandpa Sterling’s desperate pleas for me to stay. Carrying nothing but a single, medium-sized suitcase, I walked away from the house I had lived in for over ten years. But just as I reached the front gates, a young woman sprinted toward me, blocking my path. The second she looked up, I recognized her. She was the woman who had stayed by Carter’s side the longest. She was the biological mother of his son. She recognized me too. She bit her bottom lip hard, helpless tears spilling over her cheeks. “Miss Davis… please, I’m begging you, don’t take my baby away.” She took a deep, shuddering breath, painting a perfect picture of maternal agony. “I know you hate that I’m with Carter. As long as you give my baby back… I swear I’ll leave him.” My heart gave a sharp, painful throb. After all the years I spent chasing Carter, in the eyes of his women, I was just the vicious, manipulative, desperate fiancée who wouldn’t let go. I let out a self-deprecating laugh and was just about to speak. But Carter stepped out of a sleek black car that had just pulled into the driveway. “Don’t worry. No one is taking our child.” With his long strides, he closed the distance and was at the woman’s side in seconds. It was as if she had instantly found her savior. She leaned weakly against his chest, tears streaming continuously down her face. Carter wrapped his arm securely around her waist and shot me a dark, warning glare. “Chloe, don’t forget the promise you made.” I tapped the handle of my suitcase. “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten.” Carter’s eyes drifted down. When they landed on my suitcase, his expression turned noticeably colder. “Hmph. Moving out the exact second the engagement is broken. People are going to think the Sterling Corporation went bankrupt and we can’t afford to feed you.” “Chloe, I forbid you to leave.” Chapter 5 My grip on the suitcase handle tightened slightly as I met Carter’s icy, hostile stare. “The engagement is over. If I stay here, that’s when people will really start gossiping.” With that, I stepped toward the edge of the stairs to leave. But Carter’s hand shot out, wrapping around my arm in a vice grip. “I said, I forbid you to leave.” To my memory, this was the first time Carter had ever truly lost his temper with me. When you don’t care about someone, even giving them a passing glance feels like a waste of energy. Right now, I found myself completely unable to read the man standing in front of me. But it didn’t matter what he said. I wasn’t staying. I violently wrenched my arm out of his grasp and looked pointedly at the young woman behind him, who had miraculously stopped crying. “Miss Vance is right here. You should really start paying attention to boundaries, Carter.” “Once you marry Miss Vance, it would be highly inappropriate for me to be living under your roof.” That hit a nerve. Carter was genuinely furious now. He shoved my suitcase backward. It tumbled down the concrete steps with a loud clatter, cracking the hard shell. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes dark and menacing. He stared at me for a long time. And then, he suddenly laughed. “Right. I almost forgot. Mia and my son are moving in today. Having you around would definitely be an eyesore.” “In fact, your old bedroom will make the perfect nursery for my boy. Even if you begged to stay today, I’d throw you out. Get lost, Chloe.” With that, he didn’t spare me a second glance. He grabbed the hand of a visibly thrilled Mia Vance, and without looking back, walked into the mansion. SLAM. The heavy front doors shut firmly behind them. I stood alone in the driveway and slowly walked down the steps to pick up my broken suitcase. I didn’t feel heartbroken. Instead, I felt a profound sense of relief. Relief that after seven years of loving Carter Sterling, I had finally, completely stopped. I straightened my spine and walked out of the gates, my steps steady, resolute, and unwavering. Chapter 6 Living on my own wasn’t nearly as lonely or cold as I had imagined. My childhood friends—my core group of girls—found out I had moved out of the Sterling estate. They started making up wildly creative excuses to crash at my new place every single night. In the dead of night, the apartment was quiet. Two of my friends were sharing the bed with me, while two others were sprawled out on makeshift pallets on the floor. I don’t remember who asked the question first. “Chloe… are you really, truly done with Carter?” I lay with my hands behind my head, staring blankly at the ceiling, my voice perfectly calm. “Yeah. I’m done.” “My brother told me that ever since you moved out, Carter has been a dark, brooding mess. He hasn’t even cracked a smile around his frat brothers.” “Do you think he just realized he actually loves you, and now he’s regretting everything?” I burst out laughing, sitting straight up in bed. That was easily the funniest joke I had heard all year. Realizing he loved me after over a decade? Carter’s emotional processing speed would have to be slower than dial-up internet. When I finally stopped laughing, I lay back down and closed my eyes. “A daydream is more realistic than him actually loving me. Go to sleep!” One of the girls, feeling suffocated after being cooped up in my apartment for days, suggested we go out and blow off some steam. She picked the ultra-exclusive VIP club Carter frequented. I had only been there once, and I was brutally thrown out halfway through the night. Carter had literally dragged me by the collar to the club manager, forcing him to assemble the entire staff just so they could memorize my face. “This person right here. Never let her through these doors again.” That night, under the scorching, judgmental stares of dozens of strangers, I was so humiliated I couldn’t even lift my head. In front of outsiders, Carter had never, ever protected my dignity as his fiancée. After that incident, whenever I knew Carter was going to be somewhere, I subconsciously avoided it. But now? I wasn’t living under his roof anymore. I wasn’t his fiancée anymore. And most importantly, he no longer occupied any space in my heart. I could go wherever I wanted and do whatever I pleased. Seeing me nod in agreement, my friends exchanged excited glances and immediately dragged me to the vanity to do my makeup. Chapter 7 I looked at the stranger staring back at me in the mirror. She was wearing a sleek, strapless black dress and heavy, dramatic makeup. It felt incredibly foreign. For the past seven years, to get Carter to look at me for even a second longer… I had constantly, meticulously modeled myself after the girls he dated. Every single one of Carter’s exes fit the “pure, innocent, and fragile” archetype. Mia Vance, the woman who had lasted the longest, was the textbook definition of it. We breezed past the bouncers and walked right into the VIP suite. But halfway through the party, the heavy doors were pushed open without warning, and a group of men swaggered in. The man walking at the very back, his face a mask of dark thunder, was Carter Sterling. The second he walked in, his eyes locked onto me like radar. His dark gaze swept over every inch of my body, taking in the dress and the makeup. Then, radiating an intense, suffocating pressure, he marched straight up to me. “Who gave you permission to be here?” This time, I didn’t drop my head. I stood up, tall and confident. I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. “We don’t have any ties to each other anymore. Why can’t I be here?” “Carter, you’re stepping way out of your jurisdiction.” Carter clearly hadn’t expected the girl who had always been as meek and obedient as a bunny to suddenly bare her claws at him. For some inexplicable reason, it felt like something had lightly scratched at his heart. The dark, brooding anger instantly dissipated. He let out a low scoff, physically shoved the guy sitting next to me out of the way, and claimed the seat right beside me. But barely a few minutes after sitting down, Carter’s leg kept “accidentally” brushing against mine. Every time I shifted away, the corner of his mouth would curl up into a smirk, and he’d close the gap again. Finally, I hit my breaking point. I practically shot up from the sofa. While the entire room watched in dead silence, I marched straight to an empty seat in the far corner of the massive booth. But the second I sat down, one of my friends leaned in and frantically whispered in my ear. “Look to your left. That’s Julian Vance!” Julian Vance was the eldest son of the Vance dynasty. He finished his Ivy League degrees by age twenty and returned home to take absolute control of the Vance conglomerate. He was ruthless, cold-blooded, and entirely devoid of human empathy. And above all else, he was a massive germaphobe. No one was allowed within a three-foot radius of him. And I had just blindly thrown myself directly into his restricted zone. From across the room, Carter let out a sharp, mocking laugh, clearly anticipating my brutal, imminent humiliation. The laugh dripped with pure schadenfreude. I gingerly started to stand up, my back not even fully straightened yet. But the man sitting next to me slowly opened his closed eyes. His gaze landed on my awkward, half-standing posture. His voice was like crushed ice, yet carried a trace of lazy indifference. “You don’t need to leave. Sit down.”

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Three years ago, Liam Carter bullied me relentlessly at school. I begged him to let me go, but he just stepped on my hand and called me trash. Three years later, he was on his knees, crying and begging me not to leave him. I gave his words right back to him. 1 Backed into a corner by the school’s notorious bully, I sent one last text to my online boyfriend. At that exact moment, the bully’s phone dinged. Liam pulled out his phone. The icy cruelty in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a soft, tender warmth. [Be good, Summer. I’m busy right now, just give me a minute.] The second he hit send, my phone gave a faint vibration. It was the special notification tone I had set for my online boyfriend. I stared at him in utter disbelief. He was standing under the streetlight, and his perfect profile and elegant features were exactly the same as my sweet “Liam” from our photos. But the dark, ruthless sneer on his face, a cigarette dangling from his lips, was completely at odds with the gentle boy I knew online. For a moment, my mind couldn’t process it. Was this my sweet, loving boyfriend, or was this Liam Carter, the terrifying school bully and Chloe’s boyfriend? “Liam, she’s the bitch who slashed my bag! She’s just jealous because she’s too broke to buy one herself. Poor people are always causing trouble!” Chloe pointed at me viciously, her eyes shining with smug triumph. “I didn’t…” I didn’t ruin Chloe’s bag. Earlier that day, Chloe had tried to slap me for absolutely no reason. When she swung again, I dodged. She lost her balance, fell hard, and completely trashed her brand new twenty-thousand-dollar designer bag. She screamed at me to pay for it. When I said I couldn’t, she threatened me, saying her boyfriend, Liam Carter, would handle me. Everyone knew Liam. He was a rich kid from a powerful family. Rumor had it he had serious connections, fought like a complete psychopath, and wasn’t afraid of anything. People were terrified of him. They called him a monster. But I never, ever imagined that my sweet, gentle “Liam” online and the monstrous school bully were the exact same person. Liam stood up straight and slowly walked toward me. The warm yellow light spilled over him, but his gaze was as freezing as ice. His tall frame loomed over me. I instinctively clenched my fists. Then, I heard his cold, detached voice. “Two choices. You pay for it, or you get on your knees and apologize.” His cold, dismissive attitude was lightyears away from the tender, affectionate boy on my phone. I couldn’t describe the twisted feeling in my chest. In a moment of pure, stubborn defiance, I stared back at him and said, “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t ruin her bag?” Liam stared at me for a few seconds, then let out a sudden, mocking scoff. “You really don’t know what’s good for you.” He turned away, his voice dripping with impatience. “Teach her a lesson.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. My ears started ringing. His cronies forced me to my knees. They slapped me relentlessly and kicked me in the stomach. The pain was so agonizing I couldn’t even scream. Liam leaned casually against the wall, completely indifferent to what was happening, smiling tenderly at his phone screen as if waiting for a message. I curled into a tight ball, taking every punch and kick, the tears streaming down my face unstoppably. The result of being beaten by several grown men was that I couldn’t get up for a very long time. Two of my teeth were knocked loose, and the blood I coughed up stained my collar red. I lay there like a dead fish for three solid hours before I finally scraped together enough strength to crawl home. I didn’t dare tell my parents. They were honest, hardworking people from a rural town. They had moved to the city to give me a better life, but they were already struggling just to make ends meet. Honestly, the only reason I was bullied was because we were poor. Every time they called me “hick,” “cheap trash,” or sneered, “Selling you wouldn’t even cover the cost,” it felt like knives in my heart. That was when I learned that being poor meant you didn’t deserve dignity. You only deserved to be stomped into the mud. “Hiss—” I quietly applied ointment to my bruises. It hurt so much. My phone kept chiming with that special notification tone. It was all messages from my sweet “Liam.” [Summer baby, are you home yet?] [You should be home by now, why aren’t you replying? ~] [Did I do something to make my baby mad? …] Even though his tone was still affectionate and sweet, a deep chill ran down my spine. I typed out several responses, but deleted every single one. Finally, I just sent: [You only went to the library tonight?] There was a slight pause on his end, then a quick reply. 2 [Yeah! I was studying hard today!] As if to prove it, he even sent a photo of himself in the library. In the photo, the boy was wearing a crisp white shirt, a bright, sunny smile lighting up his face as he stood by the bookshelves. He looked refined, gentle, and utterly perfect. But it was all a complete lie. I was so incredibly thankful I had never sent him a picture of myself, and that he hadn’t recognized me. It gave me the chance to see exactly who he really was. Terrified of falling behind in my classes, I didn’t dare skip school. Right after morning study hall, Chloe dragged me into the girls’ bathroom. She and her squad cornered me by the sinks. “Summer, how do you even have the nerve to show your face? Tsk, tsk. Did Liam not hit you hard enough last night?” “Haha, maybe she’s just thick-skinned because she’s so cheap. She’s so ugly and poor, if it wasn’t for that thick skin, she’d have killed herself by now!” “No wonder her name is Summer Pig. She’s got the hide of a pig!” The girls beside her hurled every degrading insult they could think of. Then, a bucket of filthy mop water was dumped directly over my head. It ran down my hair and soaked into my collar. The rank, damp smell made me want to vomit. “Tsk, tsk. Summer, you really are as ugly and filthy as a pig!” She grabbed a handful of my wet hair and slapped me twice across the face. Then, looking completely disgusted, she washed her hands and strutted out of the bathroom. I slid down the tiled wall, collapsing onto the floor. I buried my face in my knees, biting my lip to stop the tears from falling. Chloe locked me in that bathroom for the entire morning. It wasn’t until the lunch bell rang that someone finally let me out. I foolishly thought that would be the end of it. But Chloe wasn’t done. For the rest of the week, my desk was constantly trashed, and my homework mysteriously vanished. After a few times, my teachers stopped believing my excuses. Chloe haunted every single corner of the school I tried to hide in, taking immense pleasure in humiliating me. During evening study hall, I hid in the library, studying for hours before finally packing up to go home. I just wanted to avoid Chloe. But Chloe hadn’t left. She and her squad were waiting for me right by the library exit. She slapped my thermos out of my hand. With a loud crash, the coffee I drank to stay awake splashed all over my legs. My freshly washed white pants were instantly stained dark brown. I glared at her furiously. I opened my mouth to speak, but then I saw Liam’s warning look. He was standing right next to her, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his eyes full of contempt. “Tsk. Summer, do you have a problem?” Chloe shoved me hard. I fell backward, landing directly in the puddle of spilled coffee. The smell of cheap coffee mixed with the dirty floor made my stomach churn. Her followers erupted into cruel laughter, mocking me for looking like a pig rolling in slop. They even tried to force me to drink the coffee off the floor! My face was mere inches from the dirty tiles when the librarian arrived to lock up and saw what was happening. “What is going on here?!” Chloe and her minion quickly let go of me. Chloe put on a bright, innocent smile and said to the librarian, “We’re just playing Truth or Dare with Summer!” “Yeah! Summer lost, so her dare was to drink the coffee off the floor!” “No!” I desperately shook my head, looking at the librarian pleadingly. “Ma’am, they were forcing me.” The librarian frowned. Just as she was about to speak, Chloe immediately jumped in, smiling sweetly. “Ma’am, don’t listen to her. She’s just trying to get out of her punishment!” “Summer, don’t be a sore loser. A loss is a loss. Why are you running to the teacher?” Chloe deliberately twisted the narrative, pinning the blame entirely on me. Her followers quickly chimed in. “Yeah, Summer, you’re taking this way too seriously.” “It’s just a game! If you didn’t want to do the dare, you didn’t have to tattle!” There were so many of them, and their stories matched perfectly. Sure enough, the librarian believed them. Her face darkened as she looked at me, then back at Chloe. “Alright, enough. You’re at school to study. No more of these pointless games!” The librarian walked away. She clearly didn’t want to get involved. Chloe looked down at me from above, smiling smugly. “See that, Summer? They’re all on my side. No one is ever going to believe you.” “Running to the teachers won’t save you. I have a hundred ways to make sure I never get in trouble, but you? You aren’t nearly as lucky!” 3 My heart turned to ash. I didn’t even hear what they said after that. I sat by the library doors for a very long time, until all the lights on campus were turned off. It wasn’t until a patrolling security guard started shouting my name that I realized I had been sitting in a puddle of freezing coffee for hours. I stumbled home in a daze. My mom was angrily scrubbing dishes in the sink. “You’re old enough to know how to keep yourself clean! How did you get your clothes so filthy? I don’t have the money to buy you new ones.” “You won’t focus on your actual studies, insisting on this useless art nonsense! It costs me twice as much to support you! It’s a sin! Why can’t you be more like your cousin back in the village? She’s hardworking and sensible.” I had heard my mom’s complaints so many times I was completely numb to them. But today, I felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to cry. I ignored her and locked myself in my room. My phone started buzzing relentlessly. It was Liam. [Summer, are you out of study hall yet?] [Hurry up and reply!] [Baby, did I do something wrong? You’ve been so cold the last two days.] [Don’t ignore me, it breaks my heart.] It breaks his heart? Yeah. It would. Even though Liam and I were only dating online, I knew exactly how dependent he was on me. He demanded to be texting me twenty-four seven. He was a boy who grew up starved for love and completely lacked a sense of security. His childhood was overshadowed by severe family trauma. Ever since his mother died, he had become incredibly dark and negative. I had appeared right at that critical moment, staying by his side and pulling him out of that agonizing darkness. Since then, he had been like a puppy rolling over to show its belly, giving his entire heart to me. He used to say: [Baby, you are the only light in my life.] [Baby, I’m slowly becoming a better person for you. I’m studying hard, eating right… I’m going to be the perfect boy you want…] [Baby, I love you the most. Stay with me forever, okay?] I thought about the things he had said, and then I thought about him helping Chloe torture me. My fingertips trembled. [Liam, if someone bullied you, what would you do?] I asked him. [Get revenge, obviously. Make their life a living hell.] [Why are you asking, Summer? Is someone bullying you? Tell me who it is, I’ll handle them for you!] [It’s nothing.] I didn’t need him to. Liam, I have my own ways of making the people who bully me suffer. 4 During art class, Chloe walked past my easel, deliberately knocking over my paint bucket and ripping my canvas. “Summer, do cheap, low-class trash like you really think you deserve to study art? Art supplies are expensive. Can your pathetic family even afford this?” She strutted away, practically glowing with smug satisfaction. I silently started cleaning up the spilled paint. Half the bucket was gone, and my canvas and other tools were ruined. I sealed up the remaining paint and took my dirty brushes to the bathroom to wash them out. I felt a heavy gaze fixed on me. I turned around and saw Liam. He was leaning against the wall, a cigarette in his mouth, looking at me with absolute mockery and disgust. Like I was a clown. I gripped my brushes tightly. He made no move to leave. When I tried to walk out the bathroom door, he blocked my path, trapping me against the wall. “Tomorrow, you are going to apologize to Chloe.” His tone left no room for argument, his eyes full of threat. “But I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t ruin her bag.” I gathered my courage and met his stare. The next second, he pressed the burning cherry of his cigarette directly into my arm. “Cut the bullshit!” “It was a twenty-thousand-dollar bag. Just apologize. Don’t push your luck.” “I’m losing my patience. If you don’t apologize, you know exactly what’s going to happen to you!” Liam walked away. I clutched my burned arm, massive tears rolling down my face. When I got home that night, my mom started complaining again. She told me to quit art, saying our family couldn’t afford my dream. Finally, my dad told her to drop it. Before I went to sleep, my dad came to my room. He told me to just focus on studying hard. He promised the family would find a way to support my art. Looking at my dad—his hair turning gray far too early, his stiff glass eye—my heart ached terribly. When my dad was young, a delinquent kid in our village had hit him, blinding him in one eye. He had to get a prosthetic. Ever since then, whenever it rained or he overworked himself, the eye would ache and burn. But even with that, he carried the weight of our entire family on his shoulders. “Dad, I’m going to start a work-study program. Trust me, I’ll start making money soon.” My dad smiled proudly, telling me not to worry about money. Then he asked, “You haven’t seemed like yourself the last few days. Did something happen at school?” I shook my head. He said, “If anyone is bullying you, you have to tell us.” I nodded, reassuring him. They were already working so hard. I couldn’t add to their worries. After surviving on my own for so long, growing wild and stubborn, I always found my own ways to handle things. Chloe thought I was a soft target she could crush whenever she wanted. But did being poor mean I had to swallow my pride and accept the abuse? The day Chloe demanded twenty thousand dollars, I had already secured the security footage showing her tripping and ruining her own bag. After all, poor people like me have to be hyper-vigilant against scammers. I kept the bruises from the alley and the bathroom as evidence. I also managed to get a copy of the security footage from outside the library. I hadn’t replied to Liam much over the past few days, and he was completely blowing up my phone. I had 99+ unread messages. I opened them and read them one by one. [Summer, what are you doing? Are you so busy you can’t even talk to me?] [Summer, did I do something wrong?] [I’m sorry, baby. If I did something wrong, just tell me. I’ll fix it. Please don’t ignore me.] [Summer, are you… are you leaving me?] Reading that last message, I knew Liam was panicking. Liam, so you really do get your heart broken, huh? Don’t worry. The real heartbreak hasn’t even started yet. 5 Before I could finish reading his messages, Liam started calling me incessantly. I didn’t answer. Instead, I texted him back. [I’m not leaving you.] [Really?] Liam clearly didn’t believe me. He was far too insecure. [Then promise you won’t ignore me anymore, Summer. It hurts too much.] My fingers hovered over the keyboard. After a brief silence, I replied: [Okay.] Liam’s tone instantly brightened: [You’re the best, Summer. I want to see you as soon as possible. Can I come find you?] Liam and I had originally agreed to meet in person after we graduated high school. But now, he was clearly too desperate to wait. Maybe he could sense that I was pulling away from him. [Summer?] [You said you’d stay with me forever. You won’t break your promise, right?] I could hear the careful, desperate fear of loss in his words. A pang of sourness rose in my chest. I had been so determined to break his heart, but for a split second, I actually wavered. I asked him: [Liam, you said you were slowly becoming a better person for me. Is that true?] [Of course, Summer. I’m trying so hard.] His answer was immediate and firm. As if the guy who casually terrorized his classmates wasn’t him at all. He truly had two completely different faces. [Then you have to promise to be a good, just person. At the very least, you can’t do bad things.] I texted back. Liam, I’m giving you a chance. You had better stick to your word. … Chloe’s campaign against me was far from over. To force me to apologize, she weaponized public opinion. She posted the story of her ruined bag on the school forum. Instantly, she transformed from the abuser into the victim. She played the pathetic, wronged innocent, claiming she only wanted an apology. She took the moral high ground, preaching that poor people shouldn’t covet luxury items, that my vanity was bankrupting my family, that I was ungrateful and didn’t appreciate my parents’ sacrifices… Her “kindness and justice” won everyone’s sympathy. Overnight, the entire forum was flooded with comments attacking me. “If you’re poor, stop trying to act rich!” “This is classic ‘if I can’t have it, I’ll destroy it’ behavior! That is so malicious. Summer makes me sick!” “Yeah! Get that bitch Summer out of this school!” “I heard Chloe’s boyfriend, Liam Carter, beat her up a few days ago.” “Good! Taking a beating to pay off a twenty-thousand-dollar debt? I’d take that deal too!” “Summer needs to apologize immediately!” In the most vicious, highly-trafficked thread attacking me, I uploaded the video. The video clearly showed Chloe tripping, ruining her own bag, and then immediately blaming me. The people cursing my name went dead silent. I had planned to release the video today anyway. Chloe’s massive exposure was exactly what I needed. It gave me the perfect platform to publicly humiliate her. After hitting post, I calmly went to school.

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