For over half her life, my mother favored boys over girls. But at the age of fifty, an accident left her paralyzed from the waist down. My freeloading brother, her precious son, didn’t step up to care for her for a single day. I never married. I took care of her all by myself for twenty years, right up until the day she passed away peacefully. What nobody knew was that after my mother died, she was reborn. She woke up in the past, right in the year I turned eighteen. 1 “Harper Reed, did you actually buy a new phone?!” During my summer break at home, a corner of my new phone accidentally peeked out of my pocket. Mason, who was lounging on the sofa watching TV, spotted it instantly. Dropping his bag of potato chips, he lunged at me, snatched the phone from my pocket, and held it up excitedly, examining it from every angle. Alarm bells went off in my head. I had a bad feeling about this. “What are you doing? Give it back!” “Heh, it’s mine now!” Mason tried to unlock it, failing a few password attempts before bossily ordering me to open it for him. I panicked and blurted out, “I bought that with my own money from my part-time job! You can’t take it!” “I want it, so I’m taking it! Watch me!” “You already have a phone! Why do you have to steal mine?” I had worked myself to the bone, waking up early and staying up late at my part-time job just to afford this phone. How could I bear to just hand it over? Besides, Mason was only in high school and already had the newest iPhone. Mine was just a basic $300 Android. He was just so used to taking my things. Even if he didn’t need it, he had to take it! “So what? What’s wrong with having two phones?” I suppressed my rage. “Give it back!” “Mom! Hey, Mom!” Hearing him call for our mother, my heart sank. Since we were little, my parents always did everything in their power to give Mason whatever he wanted, let alone something of mine he simply took a liking to. It wasn’t that I hadn’t fought back before, but my protests only ever earned me a scolding or a beating. “You’re the older sister, what’s wrong with letting your little brother have his way? Why are you such an ungrateful brat?!” “You’ll get married and leave eventually. The Reed family is going to rely on your brother to carry the name. Don’t even try to compare yourself to him, you hear me?” I had heard those words countless times. Seeing the defeated look on my face, Mason laughed smugly, making obnoxious faces at me. I was shaking with anger, wishing I could slap that look right off his face. Smack! A crisp, sharp sound echoed in the room. Someone had actually slapped Mason hard across the face! 2 My eyes widened in shock. Mason clutched his cheek, his eyes equally wide. “You ungrateful little punk! Is your sister’s phone yours to take? Give it right back!” I didn’t even notice when my mom had come out of the bedroom. After slapping Mason, she stood there with one hand on her hip, pointing fiercely at the phone in his hand, barking orders like a drill sergeant. I had seen this terrifying, furious expression a million times growing up, but… it had always been directed at me. This was the first time I had ever seen my mom blow up at Mason. “Mom! You hit me? You actually hit me?! You hit me over Harper?!” Still in a state of sheer shock, Mason shrieked at her. Smack! Another slap landed on the other side of Mason’s face! My mom’s fury only seemed to intensify. “Damn right I hit you! And who gave you permission to call your sister by her first name like you’re equals? From now on, you show her some respect!” My jaw practically hit the floor. Since he was seven or eight, Mason had always called me by my first name. The whole family knew it, but they had always silently permitted it. Spoiled rotten since birth, Mason had never been treated like this. Once the reality set in, he started bawling hysterically, his face contorting with rage as he violently spiked my phone onto the hardwood floor! “No! I won’t! If I can’t have this phone, Harper isn’t using it either!” After screaming his lungs out, Mason bolted for his bedroom and slammed the door so hard the walls shook, making me flinch instinctively. 3 My heart ached as I looked down at the shattered spiderweb screen. I quickly crouched down to pick it up. While doing the mental math on how much a screen replacement would cost, I tried to figure out why my mom was acting so bizarre today. “Harper, leave the phone. We’ll go buy you a new one later.” I looked up in disbelief, meeting my mother’s loving, gentle gaze. My heart skipped a beat. I admit, seeing my mom act like a loving mother was nice, but it was far too sudden. I was so unaccustomed to it that I honestly wondered if I was dreaming. She pulled me to my feet, looking me up and down obsessively. Her eyes were filled with an emotion I couldn’t comprehend. I stood there uncomfortably, letting her stare. Huh? Were my eyes playing tricks on me? Why did she look like she was crying? She stroked my hair, muttering to herself. “Thank God… Harper doesn’t have any gray hair yet.” Uh, I was eighteen and just starting college. Of course I didn’t have gray hair. She gently touched my hands. “Your hands are still soft, too. No calluses.” Um… well, I only did the daily dishwashing. That wasn’t enough to give me a pair of hardened worker’s hands. Then she rubbed my back. “And your back is straight. You’re not hunched over.” I frowned. I wasn’t an old lady, why would I be hunched over? I finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Mom, what’s wrong with you?” My mom wiped her tears away and forced a smile. “Mom’s fine. I just woke up from my nap and heard your brother screaming. Your father and I have spoiled that boy rotten! Don’t worry, he’ll never dare snatch your things again. If he ever pulls a stunt like today, I’ll beat him within an inch of his life!” For the last sentence, she intentionally raised her voice, aiming it straight at Mason’s bedroom door. Crash! It sounded like Mason had thrown something against the wall in his room. 4 My mom smiled at me again, her voice softening. “Harper, Mom’s going to transfer $1,500 to you. You go buy whatever phone you want.” With that, she patted my hand, turned into the kitchen, grabbed a heavy wooden spoon, and marched toward Mason’s room. “Who are you throwing a tantrum for?!” “Mom! Why are you hitting me again?!” “Because you deserve it! If you ever disrespect your sister like that again, I’ll hit you harder!” “Ah! Ow! Stop!” Amidst Mason’s agonizing screams, I blankly pinched my own thigh. Ouch. It hurt. After teaching Mason a lesson, my mom actually transferred $1,500 into my bank account. But I was terrified to spend it. I was afraid I’d wake up tomorrow and everything would go back to normal. Before dinner, my mom came over specifically to ask what I wanted to eat. She looked incredibly guilty and said awkwardly, “Harper, Mom was wrong in the past. I didn’t care for you enough. Whatever you want to eat, Mom will make it for you.” Since my earliest memories, the rules for me were: no picky eating, no wasting food, and no asking for treats. But Mason got to do all of those things. If there was something he didn’t like, my parents made me eat it. If he couldn’t finish his food, they scraped it onto my plate. If he craved something, my mom would make it instantly, or my dad would drive out to buy it for him. What I liked to eat, or what I hated—nobody cared, and nobody knew. “Um… anything is fine, Mom. I love whatever you cook.” To be honest, I didn’t even know what my favorite food was. In my mind, there was only food I had to eat, food I could eat, and food Mason wanted that I wasn’t allowed to touch.

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At the college reunion, Carter’s ex-girlfriend ruined my new dress. She panicked and apologized: “I’m so sorry, I’ll pay for it.” “My wife’s dress is a vintage runway piece from last year’s auction. It went for $150,000.” Carter smiled, his reply light and breezy. 1 Vanessa slumped to the floor, her face deathly pale. “Holy shit, a hundred and fifty grand for a dress. Carter is ruthless. Someone’s probably regretting her life choices right about now.” “Didn’t she marry some trust fund baby? She can’t scrap together the cash?” “More like a bust fund baby. Even if she sold herself on the street, she couldn’t come up with that kind of money.” The crowd laughed excessively. With a complex gaze, I looked at the ex who had abandoned Carter all those years ago. She happened to look up, our eyes meeting. Her eyes were a tangle of deep humiliation and bitter resentment. Just moments ago in the restroom, she had cornered me, her tone arrogant and certain. “Believe it or not, if I wanted to, I could snap my fingers and he’d come crawling back to me like a dog.” And now, just to get close to Carter, she had purposely spilled red wine all over me, creating this exact spectacle. Honestly, I wasn’t surprised by her behavior. After all, Carter was now a tech billionaire, a Silicon Valley darling constantly gracing the covers of business magazines. If Vanessa hadn’t married someone else back then, she would be the one wearing the ring right now. I just felt a little bad for Carter because of what she had said. Carter took off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. He looked down at Vanessa from his commanding height. “If it’s too difficult, maybe you can ask your imprisoned ex-husband for help.” She clenched her fists, her lips trembling stubbornly. “I will pay you back.” Carter just chuckled. “If you can’t do it, you shouldn’t make promises so easily.” “Vanessa, you haven’t changed a bit.” Even though his tone was ice-cold, hearing it made my head spin slightly. I had been by Carter’s side since he built his company from the ground up. I had seen him at his absolute lowest, and I had seen him at the height of his success. But I had never seen him treat a woman with such malicious intent in front of a crowd. Feeding off his energy, the others laughed even louder. Only I noticed that while he seemed to be humiliating her, his eyes never left her. 2 In our five years together, Carter rarely brought up his past. Until a month ago, when we went back to his hometown to grab some old belongings and accidentally knocked over an old, battered wallet from his closet. Inside was a picture of a girl. She was smiling brightly. She was beautiful. Carter was usually incredibly composed, but at that moment, he zoned out for a long time. A trace of loneliness and gloom surfaced deep in his eyes. Fighting back the sourness in my chest, I asked as casually as I could, “Your ex?” “Yeah.” I watched him expressionlessly tear the photo to pieces and toss it into the trash can. But the chill and frustration in my heart only grew. I walked out right then. It was the first cold war we’d had in five years. That night, after I showered, Carter hugged me from behind and sighed softly. “During the hardest days of my startup, she took my company’s core technology, defected to my rival, and became their boss’s wife.” “On the day of her wedding, my mother went to find her, got into a terrible car crash on the way, and barely survived the ER. The very next day, Vanessa flew overseas with her husband.” “Chloe, back then, I truly hated her.” … I silently stared at his calm expression in the mirror. What Carter didn’t know was that I had gone back later that day. I had watched him fish Vanessa’s torn photo out of the garbage, his eyes completely red, as he carefully and meticulously glued it back together, piece by piece. 3 The reunion was nearing its end. Someone suddenly started jeering: “Hey, we’re all alumni here! When someone’s in trouble, we should help. Why don’t we start a GoFundMe for Vanessa right now!” The moment those words hung in the air, Vanessa’s face drained of color. She looked up at Carter, utterly helpless. And Carter gripped my hand, his hold tightening in a split second, feeling like he was going to crush my knuckles. “Carter…” It wasn’t until I managed a strained whisper that he snapped out of it and let go. I looked at the red marks on my hand, feeling as if I had been plunged into an ice bath. A deep chill racked my body. The instigator giggled, secretly glancing at Carter’s reaction. Seeing that Carter wasn’t objecting, the crowd quickly started shouting out bids. “Five bucks!” “Come on, this is the former sorority IT girl! The dream girl of half the guys here. Be generous, I’ll pitch in twenty!” … One after another, people yelled out numbers. The atmosphere reached a fever pitch. It was as if they were treating Vanessa like a cheap item on an auction block, or a fish on a chopping board waiting to be gutted. Vanessa’s face was ashen, her eyes red and swollen, but she remained completely silent. Carter watched her dead, hollow expression without saying a word. Finally, like they were wrapping up a comedy show, someone shoved the crumpled hundred dollars they had “raised” into Vanessa’s hands. She just stared blankly and muttered, “Thank you.” The crowd was in disbelief. “She actually took it?” “Hahaha. The goddess who used to be so proud is living like a beggar now.” Vanessa acted like she didn’t hear them. Clutching the crumpled bills with both hands, she walked up to Carter, lowering herself into the dust. “Here is a hundred dollars, Mr. Wright. Could you please give me a little more time for the rest?” This humble, submissive woman was entirely different from the bright, arrogant girl I had seen in the photograph. The crowd went silent for a moment, looking at each other. “…Did we go a little too far?” “She is still a girl, after all…” Carter didn’t speak. He just kept staring at her. My chest suddenly ached with a dull, suffocating pain. It was so easy to see through the coldness in his eyes to the turmoil underneath. He wanted Vanessa to fall into the mud. He wanted to trample her dignity under his feet. But now that it was actually happening, he felt sick seeing her stripped of her pride, accepting pity so readily. Was he uncomfortable, or was his heart breaking for her? 4 In that dazed moment, someone suddenly screamed in terror at us. “Watch out! The chandelier is falling!” I instinctively looked up and saw the massive crystal chandelier above us swaying violently. It was coming down. I reached out to pull him back, but I saw Carter lunge violently toward Vanessa, shielding her as they crashed to the floor. My head roared. Then, someone grabbed my wrist and yanked me hard. I stumbled backward, falling to the other side. A second later, the chandelier crashed down with a deafening boom. Glass and debris exploded everywhere. A sharp, dull pain radiated from my calf. A long piece of glass had sliced into my leg near the ankle, blood welling up immediately. But I felt numb to the pain. I just sat on the floor, staring blankly at the two people holding each other right in front of me. Whispers erupted all around. The moonlight from the window and the subtle, pitying gazes of the crowd fell on me like a cold winter frost. It wasn’t until the man who pulled me away asked out of concern, “Mrs. Wright, are you okay?” I saw Carter’s body go completely rigid. He shoved Vanessa away, rushed over, and gripped my ankle to inspect the wound. His deep voice was thick with heavy remorse and apology. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were right behind me.” Vanessa walked over too, her voice soft, carrying a strange underlying emotion. “Thank you for saving me just now.” Carter ignored her. He just looked right at me. “Chloe, I swear I didn’t know you were under it too.” I silently yanked my leg out of his grip. Carter looked at me for a second, then scooped me up into his arms and walked toward the exit. I struggled slightly, but he clamped his arm around my waist like a vice. His voice was frighteningly low. “Don’t move.” “Carter…” Vanessa chased after us. Carter’s face was ice. He spoke as if he couldn’t stand talking to her for another second. “Three months. One hundred and fifty thousand must be wired to my wife’s account.” But Vanessa suddenly smiled. She gave me a provocative look. “Thank you for the extension. I’ll definitely pay you back in time.” 5 The moment we got home, Carter half-forced me onto the sofa to apply the bandages. Then he shut the bedroom door, cupped my jaw, and kissed me. The frustration that had been building inside me all night erupted in that instant. I fought desperately to push him away. “Next Saturday’s wedding is off. Let’s break up.” Carter easily caught my hands with one of his. “Why?” My mind was flooded with what his classmates had whispered right after the accident: “Man, when an emergency hits, your first reaction is always the most honest. Carter saved Vanessa first. Doesn’t that say it all?” They were right. Coldness and harsh words were his revenge. Care and protection were his subconscious love. It felt like a thousand needles were piercing my heart, the dense, bitter pain spreading through my veins. I asked him, “You still love her, don’t you?” “The first person you saved was her. Because you care about her more than you care about me.” “I saw it. I saw you tape her photo back together with glue.” “If you never forgot her, why did you even get together with me?” “I didn’t.” He stared at me, his brows furrowed, but his tone was absolute. “She betrayed me back then, and my mom lost her mind indirectly because of her. Over the years, there hasn’t been a single second I didn’t hate her.” “When the accident happened, even if it wasn’t her next to me—if it was any other classmate—my instinct would be to save them.” “Hating her is one thing, but a life-or-death situation is another.” “But I really didn’t know you were behind me. If I had known, I would never have let you get hurt.” “I gave her three months because I saw people pulling out their phones to record.” “As for the photo, the doctor called me that day and said past memories might stimulate my mom’s brain. I wanted to use the photo to test it.” Carter held my hand. “Chloe, you understand me, right?” Seeing my silence, he sighed, almost helplessly, and slowly kissed me again. “Chloe, the one I love right now is you.” His tone was completely open, hiding nothing. “Don’t ever say angry things about breaking up again. It hurts me too.” Under the dim lighting, Carter wore a custom black dress shirt. A few buttons were undone, revealing a devastatingly attractive collarbone. His dark eyes were entirely clear as he gently rubbed my burning earlobe, asking in a low whisper, “Is this okay?” The AC was blasting, but I was sweating all over. The atmosphere was perfect. Bang! The bedroom door was suddenly shoved open. “Carter…” a startled gasp rang out, yanking me out of my messy thoughts. I looked over instinctively. Vanessa was standing in the doorway, her face pale, staring at us in shock. I shot up immediately, shamefully pulling the blanket up to cover myself. It was ridiculous. I was Carter’s fiancée, yet under Vanessa’s accusatory stare, I felt like the mistress caught in the act. 6 By the time we were all dressed and standing in the living room, Carter was glaring at Vanessa. “Why are you here?” Vanessa stared back at him, biting her lip, her eyes brimming with disbelief and grievance. “I walked into the wrong room, I’m sorry.” “Get out.” He issued the eviction order coldly. Mia, Carter’s younger sister, pulled Vanessa behind her, shielding her. “Carter, I brought Vanessa here. There are debt collectors harassing her at her apartment. I was worried about her safety, so I brought her here to stay for a while.” Carter’s face went frigid. “Mia, do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Mia’s eyes darted away defensively. “This is my home too. Don’t I even have the right to take in my own friend?” “Vanessa, don’t be afraid. Starting today, you live here. No one can kick you out.” “In my heart, you’re my only real sister-in-law.” Saying that, she shot me a challenging glare. I just found it laughable. The irritation was clawing at my throat. I ignored Mia and looked straight at Vanessa. “You’re afraid of debt collectors coming to your house, but did you forget you owe me a hundred and fifty grand too?” “Or are you here today to pay it back voluntarily?” I opened my phone’s payment QR code. “Fine, pay up right now.” “That’s enough!” Mia slapped my hand. My phone crashed to the floor. Mia turned to Carter, her expression complex. “Carter, I know you hate Vanessa, but everything happened for a reason.” Vanessa acted like she had just snapped out of a trance. She yanked Mia’s arm, her red eyes pleading. “Don’t say it.” No one spoke for a second. Until Carter suddenly asked, “What reason?” 7 But before Mia could say anything, Vanessa suddenly fainted. “Carter, Vanessa’s low blood sugar is acting up. Let her stay here just for tonight.” I couldn’t read Carter’s mind. He just frowned. He didn’t agree, but he didn’t refuse either. Finally, I let out a self-deprecating laugh, turned around, and walked away. Half an hour later, Carter returned to our bedroom. He grabbed my hand as I was packing my suitcase. “What are you doing?” “Since there’s a new lady of the house, I’m clearing out.” I cut him off, “But you wavered just now, didn’t you?” “If she really had a tragic secret back then, can you guarantee you won’t be swayed?” Carter was adamant. “Even if she had her reasons, the fact remains she abandoned me for someone else, and my mom ended up like this because of her.” “The damage is done. She lost the right to ask for my forgiveness a long time ago.” “Vanessa woke up just now. I told her she has to be gone first thing tomorrow morning. Mia too.” “This is our home. If Mia won’t accept you as her sister-in-law, she can pack up and roll out with Vanessa.” “I’m sorry, honey.” Carter knelt down, his cool fingertips gently wiping away my tears. “Making you sad, making you feel insecure… that’s my fault.” … In the middle of the night, thunder jolted me awake. I rolled over groggily and found the space beside me empty. Carter was gone. I practically tore the house apart but couldn’t find him anywhere. I called him multiple times; he didn’t pick up. The rain was pouring down harder. I sat on the couch like an idiot, staring blankly. Suddenly, I realized there was one place I hadn’t checked. I ran to the guest room where Vanessa was sleeping. Faint, muffled groans of a woman were coming from inside. My brain exploded. Trembling, I pushed the handle, but it was locked from the outside. “My brother and Vanessa are in there.” “I spiked their drinks and locked the door.” Mia strolled over in her slippers. “They’ve missed out on too many years. For my brother’s happiness, I’m fixing this mistake.” My blood boiled instantly. “Mia, if anything actually happens in there, I am calling the cops.” I found the spare key. Click. The moment the door opened, my heart was in my throat.

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My ex-husband got into a car crash and lost his memory. He reverted to a twenty-year-old boy, his memory stopping exactly at the time he loved me the most. “Chloe, you actually became my wife ten years from now!” Ethan hopped off the hospital bed, equal parts shocked and overjoyed, and rushed over to hug me tightly. “I’m not dreaming, am I? Holy crap, my ultimate crush actually came true!!” I stood there, stunned by his embrace, feeling nothing but a chilling desolation in my heart. “Ethan, you forgot. We got divorced last month.” I said softly, “And… you were the one who cheated.” 01 It was New Year’s Eve, and everyone else was out celebrating. I was the only idiot waiting out in the cold by the courthouse doors. I waited the entire day. Until the clerks went home, and that bastard ex-husband of mine still hadn’t shown up. Damn it. He was the one who asked for the divorce. The papers were signed. Playing disappearing games right when we just needed to file the final decree—was this fun for him? Eyes burning with rage, I called him over and over. It went straight to voicemail. When the sky turned dark and the courthouse locked its doors, I knew I definitely wasn’t getting divorced today. I walked back to the parking garage in defeat, ready to drive home. Just as I started the engine, my phone rang. “Hello, are you a family member of Ethan Wright? We’re calling from General Hospital. Mr. Wright has been in a car accident…” 02 Perfect. The divorce didn’t go through, and now I’m getting scam calls. I didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, I’m Ethan’s wife. Is he dying? Don’t waste medical resources, just pull the plug!” “Yes, I authorize it. I’ll take full responsibility. Just roll him straight to the morgue!” The person on the other end was stunned into silence. “Mr. Wright just has a fractured leg…” The doctor sounded young, clearly inexperienced with dealing with unhinged family members. He sounded incredibly stressed. “We’ve already set the bone and put it in a cast. If it’s convenient, could you come down here?” I frowned, finding it a bit strange, but politely declined. “No need. A broken leg isn’t a big deal, and I’m very busy. I’ll pass.” “Oh…” He sounded disappointed but pushed on, “Also, Mr. Wright was in the accident with a Ms. Mia Harper. We can’t reach Ms. Harper’s family. Do you know her?” Hearing that name, I instantly perked up. “I do. What happened to her?” “She’s severely injured. Massive contusions all over her body. Her hand might be permanently disabled, and she’ll likely have extensive scarring…” “I’M ON MY WAY!!!” I screamed, delirious with joy. “General Hospital, right? What floor? What room? I’ll be there in twenty minutes!!!” Doctor: “We’re in the second wing, fifth floor…” I hung up and slammed on the gas. The black SUV shot out like a shark, weaving aggressively through the holiday traffic. All the gloom from earlier had completely vanished. Sure, my ex-husband broke his leg in a crash. Who cares if he lives or dies? But the mistress getting disfigured and possibly crippled in a car crash? That kind of karma doesn’t just happen every day. How could I miss a show like this?! 03 When it came to Ethan, I felt absolutely nothing. But hearing Mia was disfigured? I sprinted the whole way. I didn’t even wait for the hospital elevator. I practically flew up five flights of stairs in my heels. I was burning with impatience, terrified I’d miss it. The doctors didn’t expect me to arrive so fast. I burst into the room, beaming with absolute delight. “Where’s Mia Harper? How is her hand crippled? How big are the scars? Let me see! Let me see!” Everyone in the room stared at me in extreme awkwardness. I wasn’t awkward at all. I was just ecstatic. “Where is she? Where is she??” But the next second, the curtain was pulled back. Ethan had a heavy cast on his leg. He looked at me, his expression caught between shock and bewildered uncertainty. My face instantly fell. He looked at me, his voice trembling and confused. “Are you… are you Chloe’s older sister?” Me: “?” I sneered. “I’m your worst nightmare!” I don’t know what nerve that struck, but Ethan clutched his head, his face twisting in pain, and fell back onto the pillows. The doctor pulled me out of the room to explain. “Mr. Wright has a severe concussion, and his memory is scrambled. We asked him some basic trivia, and he knew the answers, but when we asked his age, he said he was twenty…” I wasn’t really listening. The doctor picked up on my distraction. “Ms. Harper is in a room on the 6th floor. She’s still not entirely out of the woods, but you can look at her through the glass.” Without another word, I bolted. The staff exchanged bewildered looks. When I got to the 6th floor, I saw Mia. I saw the mistress who destroyed my marriage with my own eyes. Just days ago, she was flaunting her victory in my face. Now, she was lying there wrapped in bandages, her right hand curled into a grotesque, deformed claw, her once-pretty face covered in raw, ruined skin. From a humanitarian perspective, I should have felt pity. But thinking about what she did to me, my humanitarianism vanished. I am not a saint. 04 When I went back down to the fifth floor, I pulled cash straight from my wallet, ready to hand out hundreds to everyone in the room. Yes. I wanted everyone to share in my joy. And they certainly felt it. The doctor’s hand trembled slightly as he held the money. “Ms. Chloe, the patient’s condition is a bit complex, and our medical resources here are limited…” I waved my hand, feeling incredibly generous. “He thinks he’s twenty? Then let him be twenty, whatever.” “You guys are doing great! Treat him. If you mess up or he dies, I won’t sue!” The room fell into a speechless, heavy silence. They didn’t know what to say. In the room were doctors, nurses, and standing in the corner were Ethan’s executive assistant and his corporate lawyer. They were so afraid I’d notice them that they desperately turned sideways, trying to shrink into the shadows. I laughed. “I don’t really have a say in Ethan’s treatment anyway.” Ultimately, I came clean to the doctor. “Although we haven’t finalized the legal paperwork, we’ve already signed the divorce settlement. I can no longer act as his proxy.” “These are his assistant and his lawyer.” I pointed to the corner. The two men jolted. Too ashamed to face me, they dodged my gaze. I said, “Discuss it with them.” The assistant and lawyer were completely meek. Seeing them like this, I found it hilarious. “You guys helped push the divorce through, but at the end of the day, you’re just employees.” I pulled out a cigarette, placed it between my lips, and bit down on it, without lighting it. Then I casually tucked a stray hair behind my ear. Instead of being angry, I smiled at them. “Don’t be afraid to look at me. It’s not like I’m the bad guy here.” The assistant stood there awkwardly, wishing the floor would swallow him whole. The lawyer, who looked quite young and usually very stiff, actually blushed when I smiled at him. “Ms. Chloe.” The lawyer’s face was bright red, his wire-rimmed glasses failing to maintain his elite professional facade. He said to me, “You didn’t have to come…” “Yeah.” I was in a great mood, feeling completely unbothered. “I’m heading out now.” Hearing this, the curtain around the hospital bed was suddenly ripped back. Ethan had survived another wave of headache and was awake. The assistant hurried over. But this CEO, whose memory was stuck at 20, completely ignored his trusted right-hand man. He looked at me, his expression lost and dazed. “Chloe… why do you look like this?” “You look… a little older.” I touched my face. Well, yeah. It had been ten years. Who wouldn’t age? I wasn’t going to argue with a potential lunatic, nor did I have the energy to entertain him. I turned to leave. Then came a massive crash from behind me. Ethan had dragged his broken, cast-covered leg out of bed, lost his balance, and wiped out. He hit the floor but immediately started scrambling toward me, looking completely deranged. “Chloe, don’t go!” The assistant rushed to help him up but was shoved away. This CEO with a 20-year-old’s memory didn’t recognize his top executive at all. His face was full of confusion, panic, and desperation. “I don’t know any of you!” “Leave me alone!!” “Chloe, wait for me! Take me with you!” Lying on the floor, he yelled at the door, completely isolated, desperately calling out to his only lifeline. “Don’t leave me behind!” 05 I had already walked out the door, but hearing the commotion, I turned back in genuine shock. Ethan was a highly sought-after tech billionaire. He built his empire from scratch, finding massive success young. By twenty-five, he was already a big shot. Everyone respectfully called him “Mr. Wright.” Accompanying his fame was his strict, cold demeanor. He was notoriously difficult to work with and kept everyone at arm’s length. I suddenly walked back, crouched in front of him, and asked, “You really only recognize me?” “Who am I?” Ethan reached out and grabbed my arm, holding on for dear life. He was terrified I’d run away again. He answered flawlessly: “You’re Chloe. You live next door to me. Your dad is Robert, your mom is a high school teacher, and you’re severely allergic to peanuts and shellfish. If you eat even a little bit, you swell up instantly.” Well… that was all entirely accurate. My mouth twitched. “You… you think you’re 20, right?” “Think about it. When we were 20, we were sophomores in college. Look at your old face now. Do you look like a college student?” Ethan touched his own face, then looked at me. For some reason, he actually blushed. Me: “…” “I heard the doctor call you.” Ethan sat on the floor, dragging his broken leg. His expression was serious and solemn, but his eyes darted nervously as he looked at me. “I know I’m not 20. When I saw you, I knew. I must have hit my head and forgotten the last few years.” He squeezed my arm, finally saying, “You… you’re my wife now.” I didn’t say anything. At that moment, I just felt exhausted. After all, before coming here, I had waited bitterly at the courthouse all day. I watched countless couples get married, and countless others tearfully separate. Sitting there, I told myself that when Ethan and I finally parted, I wouldn’t let it be filled with ugly hatred and resentment like them. At the very end, I wanted to be graceful. I have my pride. But I never expected this idiot Ethan to drive like a maniac, swerve on the highway, and crash into a guardrail with his mistress. Because Ethan was gripping my arm refusing to let go, I had no choice but to pull him up with me. With his leg in a cast, Ethan had to stand on one foot. He looked warily at the assistant and the lawyer, like a wounded animal separated from its pack. To get away, I pulled the assistant over and said to Ethan, “You are Ethan Wright. You are 30 years old.” “You are the founder and CEO of Wright Technologies. This is your assistant and your corporate lawyer. You can trust them.” Ethan looked at them, furrowing his brows. I smiled at him. “Even though you don’t remember, congratulations. By the time you turned 30, you really made it big.” But he just stared intently at me. He asked, “How many years have we been married?” I was very patient. “We’ve been married for 5 years.” Ethan did the math in his head, his eyes drifting again. “We tied the knot right after graduation… do we have kids?” I went silent for a moment. “We did.” I said calmly, “But at four months, we lost the baby.” Ethan took a step back. Those words acted like a needle, stabbing him viciously. He instinctively let go of my arm and started to shake. But he didn’t even know where this sudden physical reaction came from. He stood there, dazed, trembling violently. A sudden wave of agony ambushed him, tearing his heart to pieces, so intense he couldn’t control himself. “I…” He grabbed his head again, saying in agony, “Chloe, our… I…” I watched coldly, completely unmoved. Until Ethan collapsed, clutching his head. With my hands in my pockets, I just stared blankly as he fell onto the hospital bed, shaking all over, his face contorted as he held his head and cried. The doctors and nurses rushed in to tend to him, throwing everyone into chaos. Amidst the commotion, I turned to the assistant. “Please reschedule the appointment with the courthouse. We’ll finalize the paperwork next Wednesday.” The assistant looked at me in a panic. He hesitated, not knowing what to say. But I had already turned and walked away. 06 I got married when I was twenty-five. The timing wasn’t early or late, but it happened right when we were at our absolute poorest. At the time, Ethan couldn’t even scrape together a hundred bucks. He bought a cheap ten-dollar strawberry cake, lit a candle, and proposed to me with it. You couldn’t just call it simple. It was downright pathetic. When other people’s love stories reached their happy ending, there were usually flowers, diamond rings, and romantic dinners. I only got that cake. We were crammed into a tiny rented apartment. We ate the cake until our faces were messy. Still hungry afterward, I went into the kitchen to boil some instant ramen. The kitchen was cramped, filled with the hot steam rising from the pot. Ethan suddenly walked in and said, “Why don’t we get married?” I paused for a second, then said, “Sure.” Just like that, we finished our ramen, went to City Hall the next day, got our license, and became legally husband and wife. We had been neighbors since childhood, childhood sweethearts. His heart matched mine. From our naive youth, we walked together all the way until we hit thirty. There was no “one that got away,” no manipulative best friends, no sudden goddess dropping from the sky. We were perfectly in sync, fighting side by side. Finally, when we turned thirty, Ethan’s company landed several massive tech projects, and investment capital flooded in like a tidal wave. Riding that wave, we completely turned our lives around and became part of the city’s new elite. When I was thirty-one, I caught Ethan in bed with someone else, and our marriage instantly shattered. It happened right in our own home. Ethan was passed out on the bed, still hungover. When we burst in, he didn’t even know what was happening. I took a bottle of water and poured it directly on his face. Meanwhile, Mia Harper, wrapped in a towel, was cornered in the bathroom by my friends. There is strength in numbers. Seeing so many of my angry friends, she panicked, her face draining of color. “Mr… Mr. Wright asked me to keep him company!” She fake-cried, whimpering, “I’m just an intern. How could I refuse my boss…” That was her level of manipulation? My friends practically rolled their eyes into the back of their heads. “If I knew you had this kind of talent, I would have transferred you to the marketing department,” I smiled at her, my expression terrifyingly grim. “It just so happens our client, Mr. Vance, loves young girls. Since you don’t know how to refuse people, why don’t you lean into it? Seal that deal, and your holiday bonus will be way more than ten grand!” Mia didn’t expect my brain to work like that. For a moment, she choked on her own words. Seeing that I genuinely intended to recycle her as corporate bait, Mia clutched the only towel covering her and weakly defended herself: “My feelings for Mr. Wright are genuine.” What kind of low-tier homewrecker was this? How stupid could she be? I actually laughed at her stupidity at the time. But my smile quickly faded. Because Ethan wiped the water from his face, got dressed, calmly stood up from the bed, and asked for a divorce. Yes. He was divorcing me. I screamed, I cursed, I even smashed up his corporate office. But our marriage was already a complete and utter failure. This heavily triggered my mental state, leading to a situation where, during the divorce negotiations, his trusted assistant completely screwed me over. In the divorce settlement, I was legally cut out of the company, and I only walked away with a third of our joint assets. I couldn’t believe it. But the damage was done, the mess was everywhere. When I finally accepted reality and agreed to the divorce… This idiot Ethan got into a car crash and gave himself amnesia.

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There’s a guy on my feed who loves showing off his body. He constantly posts mirror selfies flexing his muscles. At first, I wondered which player was out here casting his net for hookups. It was only later that I found out—his Private Story was visible to absolutely no one else. It was for my eyes only. 1 I swiped past another one of the thirst trap god’s posts. As usual, it was a photo. But this time, he switched up the vibe, giving off a modest, teasingly half-hidden energy. His fingers were gripping the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up just enough to reveal his sharply defined abs. He wore a pair of gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, the drawstrings hanging naturally—one long, one short—stealing all of my attention with their messy asymmetry. I stared at it for a while, my face silently flushing hot. I couldn’t even remember when we added each other on Snapchat. I just knew that for as long as I could remember, his stories had been filled with pictures exactly like this. Abs, biceps, back muscles… He posted a new one every few days, a relentless assault on my poor heartstrings. I assumed he was a massive player, for three reasons: First, he never showed his face. Second, he knew exactly how to tease. Third, he had absolutely zero modesty. —I mean, what kind of decent, respectable man posts thirst traps like this on main?! I initially just watched them with a “might as well look if it’s free” mentality, but today, it actually got to my head. Those gray sweatpants really did something to me. My sleepiness vanished completely. I swiped up on the photo and replied to his story: “Is it cold in your house? Why are you wearing so much today?” After the message sent, he didn’t reply. I didn’t know if he was too busy or just didn’t want to. I didn’t take it to heart. Seeing that my lunch break was almost over, I quickly put my phone away to catch a quick nap. I woke up to a massive commotion in the office. My female coworkers were huddled in groups, clutching their phones and wailing, “I’m heartbroken! Heartbroken!” Still half-asleep, I caught fragments of the conversation. It sounded like a major celebrity had just gone public with a relationship. I grabbed my phone, opened Twitter to check the trending topics, and froze when I saw the names at the #1 spot. #SiennaAndLiamHayes The person who just went public was my best friend! Fueled by the outrage of “How could she get a boyfriend and not tell me?!”, I clicked on the hashtag. The video attached left me even more dumbfounded. It was from a live talk show taping. The camera was pointed at each celebrity guest’s phone on a table. The game was for each guest to post a sad story to see who would be the first to get a comforting text. Out of all the phones, the one on the far left lit up with a notification first. It was Liam Hayes’s phone. The host eagerly tapped on the screen, hyping up the crowd: “Let’s see who it is—” His voice abruptly cut off. He stood there, frozen. Because in the chat window, there was no comforting message. There was no sympathy at all. Instead, there was a borderline-NSFW thirst trap photo, accompanied by a single line of text: “Is it cold in your house? Why are you wearing so much today?” The video abruptly ended there. The quality wasn’t great—it was clearly leaked by someone in the live audience. But no matter how grainy it was, it didn’t stop anyone from reading the details of the chat window. The sender’s profile picture matched the actress Sienna, and the contact name was saved as “Cece.” This person had sent the A-list Oscar-winner Liam Hayes a never-before-seen private photo, along with an incredibly intimate, flirtatious—almost harassing—message! Given that Sienna had once mentioned in an interview that her childhood nickname was “Cece,” the internet collectively agreed that it was her. And just like that, the “relationship” between Sienna and Liam Hayes exploded onto the trending charts. I vigorously rubbed my cheeks, the shock so immense I thought I was still dreaming. My chat with the thirst trap god was still sitting there. With trembling fingers, I opened the app, and the exact same content assaulted my retinas. I came to a terrifying, sobering realization—the thirst trap god who regularly posted muscle pics on my feed was none other than the A-list movie star, Liam Hayes. 2 The trending topic was still mutating. The most triggered of all were his fans: “Normally, you won’t even show an ankle, and you button your shirts all the way up to your chin! I thought you were the poster boy for male modesty, but instead…” “What is this?! Liam Hayes’s abs?! Let me touch them!” “Ladies, who has the high-res version?! I need it for my lock screen immediately!” “Local passerby here—is Liam always like this behind closed doors? This is incredibly hot.” That last comment had the most replies. I clicked into the thread and was nearly blinded by a wall of fans screaming, “NO HE IS NOT!” Undoubtedly, his fans were in shock. But I was equally in shock! I scrolled through the comments, trying to use the fans’ collective trauma to offset my own. Before I could even catch my breath, a banner notification popped up at the top of my screen. It was from my best friend, Sienna. She attached a screenshot. Sienna: “Summer, please don’t tell me this is you?” The screenshot was the chat history. Indisputable evidence. I lowered my head and confessed: “It’s me.” She sent a string of ellipses before genuinely asking: “How on earth did you manage to get on Liam Hayes’s radar?” To be honest, I wanted to know too. I was just an ordinary girl who appreciated some good eye candy. How did I end up socially executing myself in front of the entire nation? Even though technically, the one currently being socially executed was my best friend… Afraid I was causing her trouble, I couldn’t help but ask, “Is it going to be a huge mess?” She replied: “It’s fine on my end. Since it wasn’t me, my PR team will just issue a denial. It’s Liam’s side that’s going to have a nightmare dealing with this.” I bit my lip, still digesting the reality that the “thirst trap god” was Liam Hayes. My best friend’s gossip radar activated: “So what exactly is going on between you and Liam?” I didn’t know how to explain, so I just said, “He’s the player I told you about before.” My best friend practically slammed her desk through the screen: “So the fish he’s been trying to hook this whole time was YOU!” “…” I felt like this was basically a fairy tale. Liam Hayes and I were complete strangers. He didn’t know me, and I didn’t know him. Or rather, I knew of him, because he was a massive celebrity. Aside from that, zero intersection. How could he possibly be trying to hook me? Just as I finished denying it in my head, a new message popped up at the top of my phone. It was the other protagonist of this media storm. He replied. Liam Hayes: “I’ll try to wear less next time.” “…” Bro, are you absolutely sure you didn’t catch the wrong fish? 3 If he was just a regular fuckboy on Snapchat, I might have flirted back a bit. But he wasn’t. He was the A-lister, Liam Hayes. I couldn’t understand how he still had the leisurely mood to flirt with a random internet stranger like me right now. Right after the incident blew up, my best friend’s team issued an immediate clarification, stating that she wasn’t the one who sent the message. Her celebrity friends also stepped up to vouch that her private contact number didn’t use that username. Meanwhile, I quickly changed my profile picture and display name, terrified that someone I knew would figure it out. The only person at the absolute epicenter of the storm—Liam Hayes—remained completely silent. No PR statement. No clarification. It was as if he had no idea the internet was tearing itself apart over him. The biggest backlash was about his “image collapse.” After all, Liam Hayes was previously known as the ultimate “good boy” in Hollywood. He kept his nose clean, had zero scandals, and his life consisted purely of filming and hitting the gym. He barely had any other hobbies and didn’t even touch alcohol or cigarettes. He was a gentleman, polite, and always fully clothed. The media had even interviewed him about his habit of never showing skin. At the time, Liam had stated: “My body is only for my future wife to see.” When that interview clip dropped, it was massively retweeted by fans praising him for being the ultimate standard of modesty. Let’s just say, the higher they praised him back then, the harder they were mocking him now. After all, the guy who claimed “only my wife can see my body” was privately blasting thirst traps across the internet. I also felt his public persona was incredibly fake. If only his wife could see it, then what the hell was he doing on my feed every day? Picture after picture, I had basically seen every inch of his torso. Was I his wife? But facts proved I still underestimated Liam’s psychological endurance. At the exact moment his private account was exposed, not only did he not lay low, but he actually posted another story that very night. Once again, it was a photo. But the style was much more explicit than before, and true to his word, he was wearing noticeably less clothing. I honestly didn’t know what to say anymore. I could only sigh at how fake Hollywood personas really were! Liam Hayes was clearly a top-tier player casting a wide net, yet he had somehow been crowned the “golden boy of modesty”… It was the biggest joke of the century! I decisively muted his stories. To my shock, a few minutes later, Liam actively messaged me, attaching that exact photo. He asked: “Is this okay?” I had no desire to play ambiguous games with him. I asked bluntly, “What exactly do you want?” He was even more blunt than me: “I want to pursue you.” I was so terrified I instantly blocked him! Even after blocking him, my heart was still pounding. Thank God Sienna warned me. Turns out, I really was just a fish in his massive pond! 4 Just as I escaped his pond, my best friend fell into his clutches. It turned out she and Liam already had a professional crossover—they were going to co-star in a commercial for a luxury mineral water brand. The contract had been signed ages ago, but the brand hadn’t announced it yet. Now that the two spokespersons were embroiled in a massive internet rumor, the corporate sponsor decided to ride the wave and push the campaign forward. The commercial shoot was urgently rushed onto the schedule. Terrified my best friend would be taken advantage of, I warned her repeatedly: “You have to be careful around Liam Hayes!” She nodded and promised. But on the very first day of the shoot, she dropped a massive bombshell on me. Sienna: “Turns out Liam is the one who recommended me to the brand for this commercial!” My head instantly filled with question marks. While confused, I was also amazed. This player’s net is way too wide, isn’t it?! I asked anxiously: “How is it? Has he harassed you at all?” Her reply completely subverted my expectations: “No, he’s totally normal. If you hadn’t told me, I never would have guessed he was that kind of guy in private.” Heartbroken by her naivety, I typed out: “It’s a persona!” Afraid she’d let her guard down, I called her directly and told her about Liam saying he wanted to pursue me. I heavily emphasized: “He’s just trying to hook whoever he can!” To my surprise, my best friend focused on the completely wrong detail: “So he really is trying to pursue you!” Me: “?” She derailed even further: “Do you think Liam gave me this commercial gig because of you?” I couldn’t take it anymore. I was frustrated by her lack of survival instincts: “Why are you trying to force a ‘deeply devoted’ narrative onto a fuckboy?!” My best friend laughed softly. “What if he’s not a fuckboy?” “Of course he is,” I argued. “What normal person posts stories like that? At first, I thought he was a sugar baby looking for rich older women.” She laughed even harder. “I think the only person he wants to hook is you.” I was speechless. “I don’t even know him.” “Maybe you two—” Her voice abruptly cut off. A moment later, a crisp, clean male voice came through the phone: “Can I sit here?” Thanks to the barrage of internet videos over the past few days, I instantly recognized the voice as Liam Hayes. It was clear and distinct, with a very unique timbre. “Sure,” Sienna said. After some rustling sounds, Liam asked: “Are you close with Summer?” “…Yeah,” Sienna replied, sounding like she was holding back a laugh. “Then do you know why she blocked me?” Liam’s tone sounded genuinely bewildered. “If she wasn’t happy with the pictures, I could push the boundaries a bit more.” Pfft. Sienna burst out laughing. After a long while, she offered eagerly: “Should I ask her for you?” “Thank you. I’d appreciate that,” Liam said politely. As soon as he walked away, my best friend completely lost it. She laughed hysterically, the sound grating on my nerves. I snapped: “Stop laughing!” She let out two final chuckles and teased intentionally: “He seems to know you, by the way.” Me: “…”

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The new secretary brought my boyfriend home at midnight. “Don’t blame him,” she said earnestly. “It’s all my fault for not being able to hold my liquor. Mr. Sterling shielded me, which is why he ended up like this.” I felt like laughing. The boss shields the secretary, the secretary speaks up for the boss—this mutual care could easily be submitted as a sweet workplace romance. 1 “Alright, just don’t pick a fight with him when you get back. He’s only busy with work, it’s not like he did it on purpose.” My parents had traveled thousands of miles across the country just to see me. I originally wanted to give it my all, putting on a grand display of our affection so they could finally stop worrying about me. Instead, my boyfriend, aside from picking them up at the airport on the very first day, was practically invisible for the rest of their trip. Busy with his absolute bullshit work. For tonight’s farewell dinner, the great CEO Sterling finally graced us with his presence. Yet, before the main courses were even served, he took a phone call and vanished. Even after all that, my mom was the one turning around to comfort me, terrified that I’d cause a rift with him. Thinking about how they had flown all this way, even booking their own hotel room in advance out of fear of causing me any slight inconvenience, my chest tightened with overwhelming guilt. At the TSA security checkpoint, watching their shuffling, aging figures blending into the crowded line, my nose stung, and my vision blurred into a watery mess. God only knows how five years ago, I found the heart to leave my parents behind, pack my bags, and follow Owen Sterling to a city so completely far away from home. 2 The person who brought Owen back late that night was his new secretary. She was struggling to support a thoroughly intoxicated Owen, standing awkwardly at the doorway. “Ma’am, could you step aside? Let me help Mr. Sterling onto the couch.” Ever since I stepped down from active operations in the company, I hadn’t paid any attention to personnel changes. No one had bothered to tell me that his secretary had been replaced by such a young girl. The executive assistant position at a firm of our scale was practically an executive management track. I remembered Owen’s previous secretary—an Ivy League graduate with five years of brutal corporate experience. Her professionalism was beyond question, and she navigated high-stakes business dinners effortlessly. At the very least, she had never allowed her boss to be dragged home blackout drunk. “Don’t blame him,” Amber Cox explained, her expression dripping with raw sincerity. “It’s all my fault for not being able to hold my liquor. Mr. Sterling shielded me, which is why he ended up like this.” I felt like laughing. The boss shields the secretary, the secretary speaks up for the boss. This level of mutual devotion could easily be submitted as a sweet workplace romance novel. If the guy in question wasn’t my boyfriend, that is. But I wasn’t about to lose my temper on a young girl. I simply nodded, politely thanked her, and prepared to see her out. Amber didn’t leave, though. She hovered by the door, staring at Owen as he groaned on the sofa, her face a portrait of deep, agonizing concern. “Is there something else?” I asked. “Mr. Sterling’s stomach always acts up after drinking. You should mix some warm honey water for him to soothe the lining.” The blinding concern in her eyes made it seem like I was the one who was thoroughly incompetent. I brushed her off casually. “We don’t have any left at home.” “Oh, yes you do,” Amber replied entirely naturally, as if she were the actual mistress of the house. “In the top kitchen cabinet, the second shelf over, there’s a huge jar of it!” I smiled faintly. “So, you’ve been here before?” 3 If it had been the me from seven years ago, I probably would have splashed a bucket of ice water directly onto Owen’s face and demanded an explanation word for word. Now, I simply told Amber to leave in a flat, monotone voice, then helped Owen out of his suit jacket and guided him to bed. As I wiped his face with a warm towel, an unseasonable thought crossed my mind: the Owen from seven years ago would never have put me in such a deeply humiliating position. Back then, right after I agreed to be with him, he would be so ecstatic that he’d suddenly laugh out loud in his sleep. He would call my name over and over like an absolute idiot. “Hazel,” “Hazel,” “look how perfectly our names fit together.” When I checked his phone on a whim back then, I used to dramatically complain, “They say no one comes out of their boyfriend’s phone alive, so why is there absolutely nothing here?” He would look incredibly aggrieved. “What did you expect to find? I don’t have an ex; you’re my first love. No flirty side-pieces, and my profile picture is literally you.” Back then, his phone only held dates entirely related to me—my birthday, my cycle, the hundredth day since we met, the hundredth-day anniversary of being together… It was as if every single day spent with me was a milestone worth celebrating. Now, I could only catch fleeting glimpses of his past self from the way he subconsciously nuzzled into the crook of my neck while drunk, whining for me to pat his back. 4 Once he was back in his sharp, tailored suit, CEO Sterling didn’t look up from his iPad once throughout breakfast. As if anything on the virtual network was infinitely more important than the living, breathing person sitting right across from him. The hangover soup I woke up early to cook sat right by his hand, cooling down inch by inch. Looking at his calm, indifferent face, I suddenly wanted to ask him: Should I swap it for honey water? “Amber told me about last night. I drank too much at a dinner before, and she brought me back once. Don’t overthink it.” He finally looked up at me, his tone so natural and magnanimous that it felt like if I pursued it any further, I would be the one acting entirely unreasonable. I ladled my porridge spoonful by spoonful, but had no appetite. “Why do you keep taking a secretary who can’t drink to business dinners anyway?” “Why should a young girl be forced to drink at those corporate things?” The protectiveness in his words was glaring. I gave a self-deprecating smile, wondering if he could still remember that back when I helped him secure our very first clients, I was just a young girl too. The stomach I ruined back then still couldn’t handle anything spicy today; all the foods I used to love had to be cut out one by one. His brow furrowed slightly, and he walked over to press a brief kiss to my temple. “Sweetie, don’t overthink things. I’m traveling next week, from the 7th to the 9th. Can you help me pack my suitcase?” “The 7th to the 9th?” I looked up at him, almost begging him to remember that within those three days, one of them was my birthday. But he just glanced at his watch. “I’m heading to work.” 5 Owen didn’t have many things, leaving plenty of room in the medium-sized suitcase. Looking at the empty space, I hesitated over whether to pack my own clothes and go with him. If he remembered when the day came, I didn’t want to just hear “Happy Birthday” through a cold phone screen. Just then, Owen, who had been sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone, suddenly stood up, kicked open the cabinet, pulled out the first-aid kit, and tossed a box of medicine into that empty space. I saw clearly that it was motion sickness pills. “Why are you packing that? You don’t get airsick.” “It’s for Amber. She said she didn’t have time to prepare it.” There were so many red flags in that single sentence that my blood boiled, and for a moment, I didn’t even know where to begin. Strictly speaking, as a business matter, Owen couldn’t miss the tenth-anniversary gala of the company’s biggest client. But what was Amber, a girl with zero industry background, doing going with him? Could she win over new clients, or could she subtly fish for information while socializing with competitors? “I’m just taking her to see the world a bit, so she can hold her own in the future,” he explained offhandedly. The way he put it… there were thousands of qualified people submitting resumes to get into the company, and countless others stretching their necks to climb the ladder inside. Why was it her turn to see the world? Why did CEO Sterling have to personally guide her from a blank slate to someone who could hold her own? I took a deep breath, pressing down the agitation in my chest. “Let me go with you instead. There will be so much networking at the gala; a young girl won’t be able to handle it.” “Your health isn’t great, you should rest at home. Be good, wait for me at home.” The words coming out of his mouth were all for my sake, but his eyes spared no time to actually look at me. Before I could say another word, he had already looked back down at his phone. His expression was pleased, his eyes carrying a faint smile. I didn’t know when he had become so brazen—his body was right next to me, but his heart and eyes easily passed through me, ignoring me, drawing happiness solely from someone else. 6 On my birthday, I sat alone at home all day, my phone ringing every now and then. There were birthday wishes from my parents and friends on text, double-point promotional texts from merchants, sales associates saying they had prepared a small gift for me, and even two clients I was close with called to catch up. Everyone except Owen. I waited until dusk fell and the streetlights flickered on, waiting until the day ended without a single drop of magic. The last call before midnight came from a client at the gala. “Hazel, happy birthday.” Grant Harrison’s deep, resonant voice traveled into my ear, laced with a faint disappointment. “Why didn’t you come this time? I’ve been looking forward to it for so long. I wrote the invitation for you with my own hands, but you didn’t give me the honor.” I had never received any invitation. But in a split second, I understood—it had probably been intercepted by Owen because it was “special” and written “by hand.” Grant had indeed pursued me in the past. No wonder Owen refused to let me accompany him on this trip no matter what. But that was all in the past… For a moment, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and I had to smooth things over for Owen. “Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Harrison. There were some matters at the office that required someone to stay behind, so my apologies.” “It’s my fault. I thought everyone could gather together, so I scheduled the event on this day. I didn’t expect you wouldn’t be able to make it, and it ended up keeping Owen from spending your birthday with you.” “It’s fine, I don’t mind,” I said half-heartedly, preparing to hang up, when I heard a low chuckle from the phone. “Then if I told you his secretary went into his room almost an hour ago and hasn’t come out yet, would you still not mind?”

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The boy sat with one leg crossed over the other, leaning lazily against the back of the leather sofa, a freshly lit cigarette trapped between his fingers. His gaze drifted carelessly around the room before finally settling on a dark corner. “Her, then.” In the dead silence of the room, his voice was neither loud nor quiet, sounding utterly frivolous. “Hey. I like you.” 01 The VIP lounge of the club was loud and chaotic, the smell of smoke and alcohol blending into a decadent atmosphere. “Hey, everyone quiet down! Caleb’s dare is up!” The group playing cards stood in a circle. A guy with a buzz cut, Finn, read loudly from the card in his hand: “Find any girl in the room…” He paused, his voice pitching up with excitement. “…and confess your love to her.” “Damn! Caleb loses one hand and the stakes are already this high?” “The main girl isn’t even here yet. Who else is he gonna confess to?” “…” The room erupted in shock and chatter. The only one still sitting, the boy, leaned lazily against the sofa, smoking his cigarette as if no one else was there. “Caleb, you should wait for Serena…” He slightly lifted his eyes. The teasing, the noise, the gossip—everything instantly died down. Looking as though he couldn’t even be bothered to fully open his eyelids, he scanned the room for a second before carelessly locking his eyes on the furthest corner. “Her, then.” He tilted his chin up, using his usual lazy drawl, looking utterly frivolous. “Hey. I like you.” I had traveled back to this exact moment. 02 Eighteen-year-old Caleb Sterling had sharp features, a bold brow, and a wildly magnetic charm in every move he made. Across the dim lighting, our eyes met for a split second, and my eyes instantly welled with tears. “Caleb, this…” No one expected him to end the game so quickly and carelessly, let alone pick me as the “lucky girl.” Finn lowered his voice, hesitating. “Man, that’s Serena’s sister. Is that really a good idea?” Today was Serena’s eighteenth birthday party. She had a massive crush on Caleb—everyone at our high school knew it. Everyone was waiting to see if they’d finally get together tonight. With the atmosphere building up, they all assumed Caleb would wait to confess to Serena. No one expected this curveball. Finn looked at me and panicked when he saw my red-rimmed eyes. “She’s a good student… look, you scared her to tears.” Caleb had already looked away, his cigarette hovering just below his lips. Hearing this, he stopped and looked back at me. He furrowed his brows slightly, the temperature around him dropping a few degrees. He seemed annoyed that I couldn’t take a joke. The air grew heavy. Finn scratched his head, trying to lighten the mood, when I finally suppressed the trembling in my heart and spoke. “Say it again.” I stared at Caleb. My tone was firm, though my voice couldn’t help but quiver. “I didn’t hear you. Say it again.” 03 Seventeen-year-old me was insecure, sensitive, and withdrawn, yet fiercely proud. I was the kind of person who completely blended into the background. But because Serena was my sister, I was forced to endure the scrutinizing stares of others. Our family was a major real estate dynasty in Seattle. Serena was my total opposite—beautiful, bright, and born for the spotlight. I was the adopted daughter, brought in simply to be Serena’s playmate. Serena was a social butterfly who loved to party, and she always dragged me along. Over time, I became known as Serena’s little shadow. She always told me to be more outgoing and make more friends, but she didn’t know how much I loathed these social events. My quiet awkwardness only served to highlight her dazzling charisma. At her eighteenth birthday party, I hid myself in the shadows as usual, agonizingly waiting for the night to end. Until Caleb looked at me. 04 I knew who Caleb was. I knew everyone in Serena’s circle. Caleb smoked, drank, skipped class, hit the clubs… he was the most rebellious troublemaker of them all. With a slight raise of his eyebrow, he exuded a dangerous charm that made girls scream and chase after him. He could easily treat a confession as a joke, completely disregarding how offensive and abrupt the game was to a girl. He possessed every trait I despised most in teenage boys. Insecure as I was, I had been so angry and humiliated that my face flushed deeply. But I hadn’t noticed that the cigarette in his hand slipped through his fingers and dropped to the floor. Back then, I hated Caleb. But now, I wanted to get to know him all over again. 05 Compared to Caleb confessing to me, me demanding he say it again shocked the crowd even more. Who dared to use a commanding tone with Caleb? Let alone me, the resident mute. In the midst of the eerie silence, the lounge door was pushed open from the outside, letting everyone breathe a sigh of relief. It was Serena, returning from mingling in the room next door. “Well, why is it so quiet in here?” She wore heels and bright red lipstick, walking toward the card table with a radiant smile. “What game are you guys playing?” Finn was still holding the Dare card. Seeing Serena, he quickly handed it over. “Serena, perfect timing! I lost at cards again and was just trying to figure out which girl to do my dare on.” He dramatically made a heart shape with his hands. “Serena, I love you!” The crowd cheered and hooted along, and the room’s atmosphere finally returned to normal. “Aw, sorry about that, but I already have someone I like.” Serena walked over to Caleb, smiling with dazzling confidence. “Caleb, be my boyfriend.” Before she even got close, Caleb had already retracted his gaze from me. With lowered eyes, he crushed the unsmoked cigarette into the ashtray. His voice lost its lazy drawl, dropping into something thick and low. He said, “Not interested.” 06 “Oh. Well, let me know when you are.” Serena shrugged, acting completely unfazed under everyone’s varying gazes, and went back to rallying the crowd to play. The room grew noisy again. I took a deep look at Caleb and, when no one was paying attention, slipped out of the lounge. Outside, the streets were bustling with traffic and flashing neon lights. I stood under the bus stop sign outside the club, spacing out. In my past life, I had some interactions with Caleb after this. We went to the same university, though we had different majors. He coincidentally showed up whenever I needed help the most, but I always assumed he was just doing it as a favor to my sister, so I avoided him like the plague. Later, he matured a lot, and I became less insecure. There were moments when I genuinely suspected his feelings. But aside from that one joke, he never once said he liked me. Even at the very end, when he collapsed in a pool of blood to save me, his dying words were just a smiling: “Don’t cry…” I was deep in thought when a shadow suddenly fell over me. “Are all good students this bad at taking a joke?” Caleb wore a frivolous smirk, but when I looked up, his smile froze. “You’re… crying?” I blinked, my face covered in tears. Eighteen-year-old Caleb seemed to overlap with twenty-two-year-old Caleb. His voice softened, tinged with a hint of panic. “Hey, don’t cry…” 07 Eighteen-year-old Caleb didn’t know how to comfort people. His tone was soft, but his jaw was clenched and his eyes were dark. Seeing my tears still falling, he suddenly kicked the bus stop pole in frustration. Startled, I immediately stopped crying and stared at him in bewilderment. Caleb glared at me for two seconds, then suddenly turned his back, shoving his hands into his pockets. His entire posture radiated irritation. He looked really intimidating. His tone was full of impatience. “If you feel like I took advantage of you, I’ll let you get back at me. Just stop crying.” I stared blankly at his back. “Get back at you how?” It took a while before I heard Caleb’s feigned nonchalant voice. “…You can confess to me once, too?” 08 The night breeze was cool, sweeping through the space between us, making the silence a bit awkward. I stayed quiet. Noticing Caleb’s increasingly tense back, my heart ached. But I pretended to be amused, letting out a laugh to change the subject. “Got a tissue?” I haphazardly wiped my face, getting tears all over my hands, a little shocked by my own messiness. Just as I raised my hand to wipe again, a strong, masculine scent washed over me, and a pair of hands cupped my face. Caleb leaned in, the pads of his fingers brushing away the tear tracks on my cheeks. He avoided my eyes, making up an excuse. “Tissues are dirty.” I stared at him, finding his serious expression endearing. I sniffled, making up my own excuse. “You smell like smoke.” Caleb’s movements halted abruptly. His fingers curled, and when they touched my face again, his touch was noticeably lighter—almost tender, or perhaps cautious. He slightly lifted his eyelids, his voice growing raspier. “You prefer guys who don’t smoke?” Looking up at him, I saw the streetlights reflecting in his pupils, sparkling with a light that made my heart burn. This time, I was the one who didn’t dare look him in the eyes. I didn’t know… I didn’t know if the Caleb from four years later still smoked, why he treated me so well, or when he had started liking me… I knew absolutely nothing about Caleb. Everything I thought I knew came entirely from my own prejudice.

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My parents blocked the university gates with a two-month-old infant in their arms. The moment they saw me, they demanded I take the baby home and sign the paperwork to become her legal mother. “Having a baby in college won’t ruin your life, but your sister is marrying into old money. She can’t have a stain on her record.” I refused. “Whoever gave birth to her, raises her.” They chased me all the way to my classroom, cursing me for being an unwed mother who abandoned her child. In the ensuing scuffle, I was pushed over the balcony railing. The back of my head smashed into the concrete below. I died on the spot. My parents used my wrongful death settlement to raise the kid. They started streaming online, playing the victims, and raked in donations. After marrying into a billionaire family, my sister wiped her tears in front of the cameras: “My sister is gone, so I will raise her child as my own.” She rightfully took the kid back and earned a saint-like reputation. I was expelled posthumously, spat on by society, and used as a cautionary tale. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the campus gates. My parents held the baby, their faces stained with tears. “Emma, you carried this child for nine months. How could you just throw her away?” I turned to the campus security guard. “I don’t know these people. They’re impersonating my parents. Please call the police.” 1 The two of them froze for a second. My dad, Richard, took a massive stride forward, his finger practically jabbing my face. “Emma Carter, have you lost your damn mind? We are your flesh and blood!” “Fine, you don’t want to claim us, but this is your biological daughter! Are you abandoning her too?” “If it wasn’t for her, do you think we’d drive all the way down here just to see your attitude?” “Yes, you embarrassed us, but the baby is innocent! You owe her a life!” He was panting heavily, his eyes bloodshot. A crowd began to gather. My mom, Susan, pulled his hand down. Looking at the ground, she patted the baby and choked back a sob. “Emma… I’ve been agonizing over this for days… But the baby needs a Social Security Number. She needs health insurance. She can’t be a ghost in the system forever…” The crowd started whispering. “So cold-blooded. She won’t even acknowledge her own parents!” “Having a kid in college isn’t the end of the world. Can’t they just talk it out?” “If she dared to tell security to call the cops, maybe these two are scammers.” “Who would be stupid enough to impersonate someone’s parents at their college? It’s definitely the girl abandoning her family.” In my past life, I only wanted to keep the peace. As a result, the security guard believed them and let them on campus. They chased me to my classroom, caused a scene, and pushed me off the balcony. I watched them act in silence. When they finished, I finally spoke. “Since you’re my parents, what’s my major?” The two of them looked at each other, stammering. The crowd craned their necks, waiting. My mom bit the bullet. “Your… your major’s name is too complicated. I can’t remember it right now.” My dad laughed awkwardly and nodded. “Right, we’re uneducated folks. We can’t remember those fancy words.” “Then you should at least know what I’m studying, right?” The crowd stared at them expectantly. They stared at each other for a long time before squeezing out: “Ma… Math?” I didn’t make a sound. My dad nudged my mom. She looked terrified. “…English?” I still didn’t react. “Then it’s Accounting!” “Right, right! It’s one of those STEM things.” They kept guessing one by one. The crowd slowly quieted down. Before I could even speak, the security guard, Officer Bob, couldn’t take it anymore. “She’s a Finance major! I just stand at the gate and even I know she’s Emma Carter, the star honors student of the Finance department. You call yourselves her parents and don’t even know what your daughter studies?” Someone recognized me. “That’s the senior who wins the full-ride scholarship every year!” My parents tried to argue. The looks from the crowd completely shifted. I looked at the guard. “Officer Bob, call the police.” Bob was furious. He immediately pulled out his radio to call dispatch. My mom’s face drained of color. She grabbed my dad and backed away. “You… you all…” Cursing under their breath, the two of them clutched the baby and pushed their way out of the crowd, never looking back. That night, I was doing homework when my roommates kept glancing at me hesitantly. Confused, I looked up. They tossed a phone onto my desk. “Look at this.” On the livestream of a viral TikToker named ‘CampusTea_Lexi’, my parents were crying tears of sorrow, accusing their daughter of abandoning her family. “We didn’t want to air our dirty laundry, but we have no choice. The baby needs to be legally registered. She’s the biological mother, who else is going to sign the papers?” They didn’t say my name, but they kept flashing photos and videos of a girl in a maternity ward. The girl looked exactly like me. That was my twin sister. But she went to college overseas, so no one would ever suspect her. Lexi yelled into the camera: “To this so-called ‘honors student mother’: you abandoned your child. Do you even deserve to be called human?” The viewer count had already hit 100k. I handed the phone back and smiled indifferently. “She just looks like me. They didn’t name names.” Just then, a text popped up on my phone: Emma, as long as you behave, we’ll clear your name. I didn’t reply and locked the screen. Right before bed, another text arrived: You can hide today, but you can’t hide tomorrow. I knew they wouldn’t let this go. And I was ready for them. 2 The livestream blew up quickly, trending across Twitter and TikTok. I went to the dining hall for breakfast and looked at the menu. “I’ll take some oatmeal…” “We’re out.” The cafeteria lady stared at me, deadpan. “A couple of bagels…” “Out of those too.” I took a deep breath. “Pancakes and a coffee.” “Sold out.” Watching the next line happily grab oatmeal, bagels, and coffee, I snapped. “Ma’am, if your station is closed, put up a sign. If it isn’t, then you’re deliberately targeting me.” “I can file a complaint with your manager or Campus Dining Services. Which one do you prefer?” She glared at me, reluctantly plating my pancakes and coffee, muttering, “Toxic bitch. Why are you even eating?” Under the pointing and whispering of everyone around me, I slowly finished my breakfast. When I walked into the lecture hall, the noisy room went dead silent. The moment I sat down, the students in the rows ahead and behind me immediately moved their books and grabbed their bags, clearing a massive empty circle around me. “She’s the one from the livestream who abandoned her baby!” “How does she even have the nerve to show up to class?” “I heard she got knocked up and dumped by some guy. She was so humiliated she disowned her parents and dumped the kid.” A guy in the back row suddenly blew a wolf whistle. “Damn, the honors student is here! Plays hard to get, but she’s pretty wild behind closed doors, huh? Even got a kid to prove it.” “Wanna hang out tonight? We promise we won’t get you pregnant.” “We’re all classmates, don’t be so stuck up!” Laughter erupted around me. I felt nothing. In my past life, I had heard far worse. A few guys crowded around, reaching out to put their arms around my shoulders. Just as I was about to fight back, the professor pushed the door open. “Class is starting! Take your seats!” They smirked at me, dragging their feet back to their desks. At noon, I took my pitcher to the dorm’s water room. The faucet sputtered twice, then the water cut off. A few girls were leaning against the wall, one with her hand still on the main valve. “Sorry, this water is for human beings. You’re not human. Go somewhere else.” I walked over to turn the valve, but they swatted my hand away. “How did our university let a filthy piece of trash like you in? You’re worse than an animal. You deserve to die of thirst.” They laughed arrogantly. I pulled out my phone and pointed the camera at them. “Please, say that again.” Their faces dropped. They lunged to snatch my phone. My roommates rushed in to break it up, pulling me away. “Don’t stoop to their level. Go grab your laundry, we’ll get water for you.” When I got to the laundry room, I saw my duvet cover thrown into the dirt by the flowerbeds. It was covered in muddy footprints and splashed with massive dark stains—a mix of boba tea and coffee. I gripped my phone, snapped a photo, rolled the ruined sheets into a ball, and carried them back to my dorm. I had just laid down when my Academic Advisor called me to his office immediately. “Emma, last night’s livestream has caused massive blowback. Even though they didn’t explicitly name you, everyone knows. The university is under a lot of pressure, and the Study Abroad program wants to pull your spot in London.” “I believe in you, Emma, but this is spiraling out of control. Why don’t you communicate with your family? If this continues, you might be forced to take a leave of absence, or even…” Mr. Harrison was an older man, and it pained me to see him stress over this. In my past life, he was the only one who firmly believed in my innocence. “Mr. Harrison, I understand. I’ll handle it as soon as possible. I promise everything will be fine.” Right as I walked out of his office, my parents texted again: Heard you’re having a rough day. Have you thought it through? 3 The afternoon was a mandatory campus safety seminar about cyber-fraud. The university had invited the local police to speak. By the time I arrived, the auditorium was nearly packed. The moment I sat down, all eyes zeroed in on me. “Hey, Emma Carter, did you watch the livestream last night? Anything to say?” “It didn’t mention my name, so I don’t care,” I replied calmly. The moment I spoke, a girl in the front row stood up aggressively. “Emma Carter, how can you be so shameless?” I looked up. It was her. She smiled sweetly at the crowd, her voice bright and loud. “Hi everyone, I’m CampusTea_Lexi! I’m just a kind-hearted person who can’t stand seeing someone play the victim. So, I specially invited our senior’s parents here today—to give them a chance to clear the air. What do you guys think?” “Yes!” Applause and jeers filled the room. She excitedly ran to the door and ushered my parents inside. Carrying a cheap duffel bag and holding the baby, they walked up to me, looking entirely helpless. Lexi held up her phone, livestreaming. “Don’t be afraid, Mr. and Mrs. Carter. Tell everyone your grievances. We all support you.” My parents thanked her profusely. My mom stepped forward, carefully bringing the baby closer to me. “Emma, look at her. She’s so cute. She doesn’t cry or make a fuss. Mom isn’t asking for much, just sign the paperwork so she has a legal identity. She can live with us forever, I swear she will never bother you.” I glanced over. The baby was sleeping soundly, pink and chubby. She really was cute. Her real mother sure knew how to use her. “Yeah, the baby’s cute. But what does she have to do with me?” My parents clenched their jaws so hard their cheeks trembled. They were furious I wasn’t falling in line, but they couldn’t break character. Chaos erupted around us. “Fuck! She disowns her parents AND her kid? Worse than an animal!” “Her mom is practically begging on her knees, and she doesn’t even blink. That’s pure evil!” “Who cares if she gets good grades if she’s a garbage human being?” Lexi shoved her phone in my face. “Emma, your parents gave you life, raised you, and paid for your tuition. You haven’t even made it big yet and you’re already this ungrateful? Did your education just go straight down the toilet?” The crowd roared with laughter. “If you give birth, you raise it! Should’ve kept your legs closed!” “She doesn’t deserve to be a college student. She’s a cancer to society!” “Sue her for child abandonment! Throw her in jail!” Lexi gestured for the crowd to quiet down, asking again, “Emma, I’m just going to ask you one thing. Are you going to take responsibility for your child?” I straightened my back and looked her dead in the eye. “I refuse to acknowledge any of your accusations.” Lexi shook her head. “Well, my followers, you all saw her attitude. I guess I have no choice…” The shouting grew louder and more vicious. My parents frantically bowed and apologized. “Please stop yelling at her! Every curse word breaks a parent’s heart. We apologize on her behalf.” “It’s our fault for not raising her right. We’re sorry for causing trouble for everyone and the university. Our Emma isn’t a bad person, she’s just confused right now.” The crowd quieted. Some people even started sniffing and wiping tears. When the berating stopped, I slowly spoke up. “You keep saying this child is mine. Besides photos and videos, do you have any actual proof?” Lexi froze. “Emma, we got them authenticated. The photos and videos are real.” “But the person in them might not be me.” My parents’ faces changed. Gritting his teeth, my dad pulled a stack of papers from his bag. “Emma, we didn’t want it to come to this. You forced our hand.” Lexi took the documents, flipping through them eagerly. Her face lit up. “A DNA test report, hospital maternity records with a signature and fingerprints. Irrefutable evidence! What else do you have to say now, Emma?” 4 I flipped through the documents my parents prepared, page by page. It was exactly like my past life. They had used these exact papers to convict me in the court of public opinion, getting me pushed off a balcony before I could ever defend myself. More and more phones were pointed at me. Everyone was waiting for me to bow my head and confess. My parents looked like the ultimate victims, but they couldn’t hide the smug glimmer in their eyes. I scoffed. “These things can be forged.” Lexi flushed red with anger. “You…!” Just then, the auditorium doors were slammed open. Dean Thomas marched in, his face livid, followed closely by a sweating Mr. Harrison. “Emma Carter! The university has received massive amounts of complaints regarding your behavior.” “Disowning your parents, abandoning your child, and destroying the school’s reputation. You are not only violating moral decency, but you are skirting the law. The university cannot sit back and watch.” “Your Study Abroad scholarship is hereby revoked. You are to take an immediate leave of absence. Don’t come back until you’ve corrected your mistakes!” I looked up. “Dean Thomas, you’re condemning me before a proper investigation? Isn’t that a little rash?” The Dean scowled. Mr. Harrison waved his hands frantically at me to stop talking. My mom shoved the baby into my dad’s arms and rushed forward, grabbing the Dean’s sleeve. “Sir, please! Please don’t suspend her! Our Emma worked so hard to get into college, you can’t ruin her life!” She paused, begging bitterly. “She… she just made a mistake. College students get married and have kids all the time, right? Can’t you just treat it like that? As long as she signs the papers for the baby, we promise we won’t make any more trouble.” “If that’s not enough, I’ll get on my knees for you, okay?” Dean Thomas quickly caught my mom to stop her from kneeling, glaring coldly at me. “Emma Carter, look at your parents. Begging for you, swallowing their pride, yet you show absolutely zero remorse.” I ignored him. I sent a quick text to my roommate before looking up. The Dean grew even angrier, his voice booming. “Emma Carter, you will make a public apology right now! To your parents, to your child, and to this university!” I smiled. “Just wait a second.” My mom grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight. “Emma, behave.” She pinched me hard. She turned back to the Dean, bowing. “Sir, please don’t punish her. Punish us! We’ll apologize for her!” The crowd grew restless again. “Even the Dean stepped in, and she’s still acting like this. Thick as a brick wall.” “So arrogant. Wait till karma gets her.” “She’s completely beyond saving.” The insults rained down from all sides. In my past life, my parents did this exact routine. The tears, the begging, the whole performance. No matter how much I explained, nobody listened. Eventually, my dad had dragged me toward the door by force, and in the struggle, I fell down the stairs. Everyone claimed I killed myself because of a guilty conscience. Suddenly, my phone buzzed. Up on stage by the computer, my roommate flashed me an ‘OK’ sign. The real show was about to start. I turned to my parents, clearing my throat. “You two worked really hard on this performance. I have to applaud you. Let me just confirm one thing. What exact date was this baby born?” My parents exchanged a look, thinking I was finally giving in. The corners of their mouths twitched into smiles. “Emma, you forgot? You checked into the hospital on August 8th and delivered the baby on the 10th.” “Are you sure?” “Of course we’re sure. We were by your side the whole time.” I nodded. “Great. Now I’m going to show everyone something too. Let’s see exactly where I was during those days.”

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My husband, Carter Hayes, was an elite sniper in the Special Forces. Whenever he took on a mission, he never missed a shot. But during this hostage rescue mission, he left three bullet holes in our daughter’s body before finally hitting the kidnapper on his fourth shot. He did it all just to ensure my older sister, Claire, could evacuate safely. In the ambulance, my hands trembled as I held my daughter. The blood flowing from her tiny body seemed endless, dyeing my entire world red. Even with immediate medical attention, Lily’s right arm and left leg had to be amputated just to barely save her life. Meanwhile, Claire was completely unharmed. Everyone thought Carter fired those shots out of duty. But only I knew that he did it out of his own selfish desires. 1 I went crazy. I caused a scene. I even barged into Carter’s office, snatched his service weapon, and pointed it right at his chest, hysterically demanding to know why. Carter explained calmly, “Through my scope, I saw the kidnapper press a knife against Claire’s neck. I couldn’t gamble on whether he would slit the hostage’s throat the next second.” “I calculated it. Those three shots were the best option to keep Lily alive while neutralizing the threat.” His tone was restrained and steady. “Taking down the target is my duty.” The hand I used to hold the gun trembled uncontrollably as tears streamed down my face. “Carter, do you dare to swear you didn’t do it for Claire?” Carter lowered his eyes, remaining silent. That silence twisted my insides with agonizing pain. The gun dropped to the floor as I bent over, weeping silently. In his sniper scope, he only saw Claire. While our daughter’s life hung by a thread, his mind was entirely consumed with how to guarantee another woman’s safety. After the guards forcibly removed me, I sat outside Lily’s ICU room for a day and a night. From that day on, it was as if I became a completely different person. I no longer cooked lunch every day, brought it to the gates of his base, and stood on my tiptoes behind the security line just to catch a glimpse of him from afar. I no longer gave half my monthly paycheck to my mother, nor did I go over to clean her house every day after work. I also sent Claire’s son, Noah, back to her. I never picked him up from school or took care of his daily needs ever again. Half a month after the incident, Carter finally stepped into the hospital room. With him were Claire and my mother. Carter looked at Lily on the hospital bed, his eyes flashing with pity. He reached out to pat her head, but I slapped his hand away hard. “Don’t touch her!” My chest heaved. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Get out.” Carter’s cold brows furrowed deeply. “Chloe, how long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum?” “Lily is my daughter too. I’m hurting even more than you are!” My hand, which was tucking Lily in, froze. Tears slipped out uncontrollably. I turned my head and forced out an ugly smile. “You’re hurting?” “If you’re hurting, why didn’t you come to see Lily even once before this? Instead, you followed Claire around like a stray dog when she didn’t have a single scratch on her!” The room fell silent for a second. My mother walked up to me with a dark face and slapped me hard across the cheek. “You animal!” she yelled. “Claire’s husband sacrificed his life to save Carter! Do you know how much she’s suffered raising her kid alone all these years? How dare you speak to your older sister like that!” The slap left my ears ringing and my cheek swollen. Holding my face, my thoughts drifted away uncontrollably. Because of that exact excuse, Carter spent all his leave days with Claire and her son. He only ever attended Noah’s parent-teacher conferences. My mother only doted on Noah. She never once smiled at Lily, and during the holidays, she only ever gave cash gifts and presents to Noah. Even on family vacations, it was always just the four of them. They comfortably accepted everything I gave and sacrificed, yet they never once treated me or Lily as family. Claire stood to the side, tears brimming in her eyes. “Chloe, it’s all my fault. Please don’t blame Carter and Mom…” My face was pale. I turned around, leaned over, and gently stroked Lily’s pale, unconscious little face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lily, Mommy is going to take you away from this disgusting family. From now on, Mommy will love you with all her heart. I turned back to look at Carter, my voice dead calm. “Let’s get a divorce, Carter.” 2 As soon as the words left my mouth, the hospital room fell dead silent. Carter frowned, his fingers twitching uncontrollably. My mother’s face visibly darkened. She pointed at the unconscious Lily on the bed and screamed, “You’re taking this crippled burden with you? Who would want you after a divorce? Don’t you dare expect me to take care of you!” “I’ll take care of my own daughter,” I said calmly. “I don’t need anyone else.” I opened the door, my tone as distant as a stranger’s. “Lily needs quiet. Please leave.” Carter suddenly took a step forward and grabbed my wrist, suppressing a panic in his eyes that even he hadn’t realized was there. “Chloe, you…” Claire choked out a sob. “Chloe, are you blaming me for not taking good care of Lily?” I looked at her with bone-chilling coldness. “The kidnapper only grabbed you initially. You deliberately dragged Lily into it.” Carter’s expression instantly turned freezing. He threw my hand away and said coldly, “Absurd.” I lowered my eyes, looking at the red mark on my wrist, and gave a self-deprecating laugh. My mother pointed at me, trembling with anger. “How filthy is your heart to think something like that about your own sister?!” Claire’s eyes were red, sobbing aloud. “Chloe, I know I’ve been a burden to Carter all these years, but without him, I really wouldn’t know how to survive alone…” As soon as she finished speaking, she suddenly turned and ran out of the room. Carter chased after her worriedly. “Claire…” My mother looked heartbroken. She shot me a vicious glare, grabbed me, and dragged me out after them, barking, “You must apologize to your sister and beg for her forgiveness!” I was violently dragged onto the hospital rooftop by my mother. Claire was standing on the edge of the roof, teetering on the brink. Carter stood below her. The usually calm and collected sniper was panicking for the first time, his voice trembling. “Claire, don’t be impulsive. Come down…” Seeing this, my mother burst into tears. “Claire, sweetie, come down. Mom is begging you…” She turned, violently yanked my hair, and forced me to my knees, screaming, “You cold-blooded wretch, apologize to your sister right now!” My scalp stung, and my knees slammed hard onto the concrete. The old injuries flared up, sending a wave of blinding pain through my vision. Every time I upset my sister even slightly growing up, my mother would punish me by making me kneel in the living room, regardless of who was right or wrong. Over the years, the cartilage in my knees deteriorated. Kneeling brought a piercing, bone-deep agony. The pain in my legs was so unbearable I couldn’t even stand up. I was forced to grovel on the ground. While gripping my hair, my mother cried out to Claire, “Look, sweetie! Your sister is begging on her knees for forgiveness! Come down, please?” My forehead was forced to smash against the ground, instantly breaking the skin. Blood trickled down, turning my vision red. Struggling to look up, I saw Claire glance back. The familiar, triumphant smile flashed in her eyes before she turned back and leaped off the edge without hesitation. Without thinking twice, Carter sprinted across the roof and lunged, tightly wrapping his arms around her to protect her as they fell. I stared blankly at the scene, suddenly feeling as though the howling wind on the roof had faded into nothingness. My husband was risking his life for another woman. 3 Carter and Claire landed safely on an inflatable rescue cushion. Smelling a story, the media swarmed. Since they couldn’t find any public info on Carter, they focused all their interviews on Claire. In the interview, Claire was teary-eyed, with her Gold Star family commendation plaque prominently displayed on the wall behind her. “I didn’t protect Lily… it’s all my fault…” My mother hugged her, wiping her tears. “It’s not your fault. It’s your sister who’s too cruel. It’s my fault for not raising her right.” A widowed mother raising a child alone easily garnered massive sympathy from the internet. The public immediately aimed their pitchforks at me. “Her husband died for our country, and the sister still forced her to jump off a building? Evil sisters like that should be locked up!” “Who knows how much this sister bullied her behind closed doors…” “I heard her daughter is disabled now. Karma!” Looking at these comments, my fingertips turned white as I gripped my phone. Expressionless, I closed the app. “Mommy, what’s wrong?” Lily was curled up on the bed, her little face pale. She blinked at me, her eyes full of worry. I forced a gentle smile, sat beside her, fed her some warm water, and gently stroked her head. “Mommy is fine, Lily.” Lily nodded, relieved. After struggling internally for a while, she looked up and asked softly, “Mommy, why hasn’t Daddy come to see me yet? Is it… because I look like this now, Daddy doesn’t love me anymore?” My throat choked up, and my eyes gradually turned red. I leaned down and hugged her gently. “No, no matter what happens, you are Mommy and Daddy’s most precious girl. Daddy is just too busy…” Using her good hand—the one with the IV needle—Lily gently wiped away my tears. She was impossibly mature for her age. “Don’t cry, Mommy. I don’t even miss Daddy that much. As long as I have you, I’m happy.” My tears fell uncontrollably. In all the days since she woke up, Lily hadn’t complained about the pain once. She endured it all quietly. Her only request was that Carter come see her. I closed my eyes, turned around, and went to the hallway to make a call. Because of Carter’s clearance level, every time I called him, I had to be routed through his base’s switchboard to see if he was available before they connected to his private line. And nine times out of ten, my call was rejected. Ever since I found out Claire could call Carter’s cell directly, I never called him again. The call connected quickly. Carter’s cold voice came through. “What is it?” I was a little surprised. Pursing my lips, I asked, “When can you come see Lily?” Carter wasn’t used to my tone. Around him, I used to always act sweet, dragging out my words affectionately. Not distant and icy, like I was now. Carter pursed his lips. “I’ll go over today.” He agreed quickly and cleanly. I was a little surprised again. I stayed silent for a moment, then hung up. When I turned around, Lily’s eyes were sparkling at me. I gave her a small nod. Lily let out a quiet cheer. Fighting back the sourness in my nose, I forced a smile. The two of us waited from daylight to dark. Carter never showed up. Instead, the hospital staff came to kick us out of the private room. “We’ve received orders from administration. This room needs to be vacated and cleaned immediately.” This private room was a special VIP suite Carter had requested. It provided the best medical equipment and medication in the country, which Lily desperately needed. I frantically called Carter, but no one answered. In the busy hospital corridor, I was so anxious my fingers trembled. Suddenly, a familiar set of hurried footsteps echoed. Carter was carrying Noah. He walked right past Lily and me in the hallway without a glance and anxiously stepped into the private room. Claire clicked past in her heels right beside him. As she passed us, she raised an eyebrow and smirked triumphantly. I froze in place, my blood running cold. So the room was emptied for Claire’s son.

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The day the hospital found a successful bone marrow match for me, I lay in my hospital bed and waited for my husband, Dr. Ethan Brooks, all night. It wasn’t until 2:40 AM that I heard voices in the hallway. “The match has already been transferred to Chloe Sinclair,” Head Nurse Miller lowered her voice. “But Nora doesn’t know yet.” Ethan paused. “I’ll tell her there was a glitch in the system and we have to put her back on the waitlist.” “And what about her after this?” “I’ll keep looking,” Ethan’s voice was hoarse. “I’ll definitely find another match.” I leaned against the headboard, listening to every single word. At 2:50 AM, he pushed the door open. He brought the scent of Chloe’s perfume in with him. “There was an issue with the marrow registry.” “The hospital says you have to sign a waiver first, but you won’t lose your spot in line. I’ll just sign it for you.” He didn’t look me in the eye. It was as if he was carefully weighing every word, afraid that saying the wrong thing would shatter me. He thought I would be disappointed. He thought I would cry and scream. But I just looked at him and said calmly: “Okay, Dr. Brooks.” “You can leave now. I want to rest.” He stood frozen in place, his lips parting a few times, but in the end, he didn’t say a word. Once Ethan was gone, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t dared to touch in three years. “Hello? The hospice bed we discussed last time… is it still available?” …… “The bed has always been reserved for you, Ms. Vance. When do you plan on checking in?” The voice on the other end was clinical but gentle. “The day after tomorrow, at the latest.” “Understood. We will have a PCA pain pump ready for your arrival.” I hung up the phone. The glow of the screen slowly faded into the darkness. Outside the hallway window, the sky turned a pale, ashen gray. My room door was gently pushed open. Ethan had changed into a clean white coat. He was carrying an insulated thermos. His gaze landed on my pale face, a fleeting trace of guilt flashing in his eyes. “Why are you awake so early?” He walked over and set the thermos on the nightstand. “The pain woke me up,” I looked at him. He stiffened, reaching out to feel my forehead. I turned my head away, dodging his hand. His hand hovered in mid-air before slowly pulling back. “I’m sorry. We had a system failure with the donor registry last night. I was dealing with it until late.” He unscrewed the lid of the thermos. “I brought you chicken noodle soup from that deli downtown. Your favorite.” The smell of chicken broth and grease wafted up with the steam. My stomach instantly churned. I slapped a hand over my mouth and dry-heaved. Ethan froze. “Take it away.” I leaned weakly back against the pillows. “Ever since the chemo, I can’t stomach that smell.” It seemed he finally remembered. His expression shifted. “I’m sorry, I forgot. I’ll go get you some plain oatmeal right now.” He hurriedly screwed the lid back on and turned to leave. “Don’t bother,” I stopped him. “I’m not hungry.” He halted and turned back to look at me. “Nora, about the marrow match… I’ll pull every string I have to find another one as soon as possible. Trust me.” “I trust you, Dr. Brooks,” I replied, my tone flat. He looked at me, his brows furrowing slightly. In the past, if I felt even the slightest bit wronged, I would tug at his sleeve and cry. But today, I hadn’t shed a single tear. “Time for morning rounds,” Head Nurse Miller walked in, pushing her medical cart and shattering the dead silence in the room. When she saw Ethan, her eyes darted away guiltily. “Dr. Brooks, I need to take bed 16’s vitals.” “I’ll do it,” Ethan said, taking the thermometer. Just then, the sound of a wheelchair rolling down the hall reached us. A woman drowning in an oversized hospital gown was wheeled into the room by a nurse’s aide. It was Chloe Sinclair. She looked pale, but there was an unmistakable, pitiful frailty about her. “Ethan…” she spoke timidly. “They just drew my blood. The needle prick hurts so much, and I couldn’t find you anywhere.” The hand Ethan was using to hold the thermometer paused. He looked at me, then back at Chloe. “I’ll be right there,” Ethan lowered his voice. “But I’m so scared,” Chloe’s eyes rimmed red. “That nurse was so mean. I just wanted you to press the cotton swab for me.” She turned her head to look at me, forcing a weak smile. “Nora, I’m so sorry.” “My life is entirely in Ethan’s hands right now.” She emphasized the word “life.” It sounded like a deliberate reminder. Ethan tossed the thermometer back onto the cart. “Chloe’s platelet count is too low. She’s at risk for a coagulation disorder,” he explained to me. “I’ll go check on her and come right back.” “Go ahead,” I said, staring at the ceiling. “Her needs are more urgent.” Ethan didn’t say anything else. He quickly stepped behind the wheelchair and pushed Chloe out the door. Nurse Miller walked over with a blood pressure cuff, blocking my line of sight. “Nora…” she started, hesitating. “Nurse Miller,” I cut her off. “Can my discharge papers be processed today?” She looked stunned. “Discharge? But Dr. Brooks said your follow-up treatments still require…” “That’s his problem,” I lowered my eyes. “I want to be discharged.” “Stop this nonsense!” Ethan’s voice boomed from the doorway. He strode back into the room, his brows locked in a furious scowl. “Your white blood cell count has completely bottomed out! Discharging yourself now is suicide!” He marched to the side of my bed, glaring down at me. “Nora, I know you’re upset about the match failing, but we can’t give up hope.” He said the word “failing” so naturally. As if he wasn’t the one who had physically ripped the life-saving marrow out of my hands. “Ethan, where is my attending physician?” I asked. His eyes flickered evasively. “Dr. Evans was transferred to a fellowship program. I assigned Dr. Bennett to you. He’s a specialist who studied at Johns Hopkins. He’s incredibly experienced.” “Did he go to a fellowship, or did you transfer him to the VIP suite exclusively to run Chloe’s pre-transplant evaluations?” I stared straight through him. Ethan’s face instantly darkened. “You’ve been checking my staff schedules?” “The entire oncology department is talking about it. Did I even need to check?” I pulled my lips into a cynical smile. “A team of top-tier specialists, a 24/7 sterile isolation room, and you even pulled my attending physician to serve her.” “You’re a real hero, Dr. Brooks.” “Nora!” Ethan’s voice spiked. “Chloe’s situation is different from yours! Her aplastic anemia is in its final stages. If we don’t pool our resources to save her, she won’t survive the week!” “And what about me?” I asked. “Your leukemia is still in the chronic phase! We can maintain it with chemotherapy!” he snapped, his tone thick with annoyance. “Could you please stop being so petty and calculating at a time like this?” Petty and calculating. I rolled those words around on my tongue, finding them almost funny. In his eyes, fighting for my own life was just me being petty. “Okay,” I nodded. “I’ll stop calculating.” He froze, seemingly caught off guard by how quickly I caved. Taking a deep breath, his tone softened. “Nora, I know this is unfair to you. Once Chloe’s surgery is done, I’ll take a month off. I’ll take you to the beach to relax, okay?” “Haven’t you always wanted to go to Iceland to see the Northern Lights? We’ll go this year.” He reached out to touch my cheek. Suddenly, a piercing alarm blared from the hallway. “Dr. Brooks! Code blue in the VIP suite! Ms. Sinclair is in respiratory distress!” a young nurse screamed as she sprinted past my door. Ethan yanked his hand back instantly. “I’m coming!” Without sparing me another glance, he turned and sprinted out the door. The heavy hospital door slammed shut behind him. A cold draft swept across the room, making me shiver. I reached over and ripped the IV needle out of the back of my hand. Blood instantly welled up, dripping onto the pristine white sheets. Pressing a cotton ball to the puncture wound, I slowly climbed out of bed. The hallway was chaotic. Leaning against the wall, I took it one step at a time, making my way toward the VIP suite. Just as I reached the corner, I heard voices coming from inside. “Ethan, I feel so awful… am I going to die?” It was Chloe’s sobbing voice. “Don’t say that. The bone marrow arrives tomorrow,” Ethan’s voice was so tender it dripped with affection. “You’re going to get better so soon.” “But that marrow… wasn’t it supposed to be for Nora?” “That was a system error with the matching algorithm,” Ethan lied without missing a beat. “Her condition isn’t critical. You are the first priority.” Standing behind the wall, the blood in my veins turned to ice. System error. He even managed to make his excuses sound noble. I turned around and started walking back. “Ms. Vance, what are you doing out of bed?” Dr. Bennett, the Johns Hopkins specialist, happened to walk by. He frowned at me. “Dr. Bennett, please prescribe me a few boxes of painkillers.” “Your current vitals don’t allow for heavy doses of analgesics.” “Just prescribe them,” I looked at him. “Otherwise, I’m afraid I won’t survive long enough to sign my discharge papers.” Dr. Bennett froze. “You’re discharging yourself?” Dr. Bennett didn’t give me the painkillers. Instead, he went straight to Ethan and told him I was wandering the halls. At 2:00 PM, Ethan appeared in my room again. This time, Nurse Miller and two orderlies pushing a flatbed cart were right behind him. “Pack your things,” Ethan stood at the foot of my bed, his tone cold and hard. I looked at him. “Where am I going?” “You’re moving to the general ward.” He said it as if discussing the weather. “Chloe’s pre-op prep requires absolute silence and a strictly sterile environment. This VIP room has the best ventilation system in the hospital. She needs to move in here.” I looked around the room. The day I was diagnosed, Ethan used every connection he had to fight for this specific VIP room for me. He told me he couldn’t stand the thought of me being disturbed by other patients. He told me the floor-to-ceiling windows would let the sunlight in and keep my spirits up. Now, he was taking that sunlight and giving it to someone else. “The general ward is a six-person shared room,” I stated the facts. “It’s only temporary,” he frowned, acting as if I was throwing an unreasonable tantrum. “Once Chloe is transferred to the sterile isolation bubble, you can move back.” “Nora, she is extremely weak right now. Even the slightest infection will kill her. Can’t you be a little more understanding?” I stared at his face, masked in self-righteousness. “And if I refuse to move?” Ethan’s eyes darkened. “Nora, don’t force me to use my authority as Head of the Department to forcibly transfer your bed.” He was using his title to threaten me. Three years of marriage couldn’t compete with Chloe whining that she was “scared.” “Fine. I’ll move.” I threw off the covers. Refusing his help, I slowly began packing my things. I didn’t have much. Two sets of clothes, a few thermoses, and a couple of books Ethan had bought me in the past. The orderlies stepped forward to help. Outside the door, Chloe was wheeled over. She looked at me, her eyes brimming with apology. “Nora, I’m so, so sorry for taking your space again.” “But Ethan said the sunlight in here is the best for recovery. I’ll just borrow it for a few days. Please don’t be mad at me.” She was holding a beautifully wrapped fruit basket in her lap. “I had someone buy these imported cherries. I heard they’re great for building blood. Nora, please take them to your new room.” She held the basket out to me. I didn’t take it. Ethan interjected from the side. “Chloe bought them for you. Just take them.” I looked into Chloe’s innocent, wide eyes. “Just because you like taking things that belong to other people doesn’t mean I do.” Chloe’s hands jerked violently. The fruit basket tumbled to the floor, spilling bright red cherries everywhere. “Nora… are you still blaming me?” Her eyes instantly went red, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I know I shouldn’t be alive! I’ll give the bone marrow back to you! I just won’t get treatment!” She struggled to stand up from the wheelchair, only to collapse limply. Ethan caught her with lightning speed. “Chloe!” He whipped his head around, glaring at me furiously. “Nora, do you have to be so incredibly vicious?” “She’s a dying woman! Why are you bullying her?!” It felt like a sledgehammer slammed into my chest. A violent, coppery taste surged up my throat.

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On the third day after my daughter was born, I asked Carter for money to buy formula. Instead, he shoved a pile of mystery boxes in front of me. “Pick one.” For three years of marriage, my living expenses depended entirely on drawing from mystery boxes. The most I ever got was $108. All because on the day of our engagement, instead of the agreed-upon $108,000 family wedding gift, my dad suddenly brought out a giant mystery box, laughing: “Let’s not be cliché! Whatever you draw is what we get!” I froze on the spot. What I never expected was that Carter drew the grand prize: $1.88 million. Yet, he paid every single cent of it and threw me the most sensational wedding in the city. Everyone said he loved me to death. But on the second day of our marriage, he smashed a whole case of mystery boxes in front of me: “Doesn’t your family love playing this game? From now on, your living expenses will be decided by drawing boxes.” For three years, my allowance was sometimes $9.90, sometimes $108. When I got pregnant, I thought things would be different once the baby was born. But right now, I just wanted to buy my daughter a can of formula. The mystery box was placed in front of me as usual, and inside was a slip for $9.90. A second later, my younger sister—who had also just given birth—posted a screenshot on her Instagram. It was a wire transfer for $990,000. “Thank you, brother-in-law, for the welcome gift for the baby.” I stared at that picture for a long time, then dialed an international number. “Didn’t you say you were willing to be my child’s father?” “Pick me up in seven days.” …… When I was opening the mystery box, a nurse curiously peeked over. “Wow, a gift from your husband? That is so thoughtful!” She looked at the pile of boxes with pure envy. Until she saw the $9.90 written on the slip of paper. The air in the room instantly froze. Carter expressionlessly ordered his assistant to take the remaining boxes away. His tone was ice-cold: “The rules don’t change just because you had a kid.” The nurse opened her mouth, her expression incredibly awkward. She probably wanted to ask what kind of rule dictated making a postpartum mother draw from a lottery box for a $9.90 allowance. But how could I explain? Explain that my parents, desperate to scrape together a down payment and a dowry for my younger sister Chloe, went behind my back on my engagement day and swapped the agreed-upon money for a high-stakes lottery box? Explain that when I confronted them, my mother clutched her chest and threatened, “If you dare tell Carter, I’ll jump off this building”? Explain that since then, under the pressure of the Hayes Corporation, no company dared to hire me, leaving me entirely dependent on these mystery boxes to survive? I looked down at my daughter beside me. Her little face was wrinkled, and she was sleeping quietly. “Carter, can I buy a thermal sleep sack? Newborns can’t regulate their body temperature well…” “Trying to use the kid to extort money?” he cut me off. “The hospital has blankets.” The door clicked shut. His leather shoes echoed down the hallway, fading further and further away. The nurse suddenly turned and left, returning a moment later with a small blanket. “This is a spare from our nursing station. It’s clean. You can wrap the baby in it for now.” She carefully tucked the blanket around my daughter. A total stranger was paying more attention to her than her own father. I whispered a thank you. She hesitated, then said softly, “Your husband… he’s probably just not good at expressing himself.” I smiled but didn’t answer. That night, I scrolled past Chloe’s Instagram post. A VIP maternity suite, stocked with fully imported baby supplies. The caption read: “He said our baby can’t settle for anything less than the best.” Below was a row of likes. Carter, my mom, my dad. They were all there. I stared at the words “can’t settle” for a long time. Suddenly, I remembered years ago when Carter said, “If we have a girl, I’m going to spoil her like the happiest little princess in the world.” Back then, there was a light in his eyes. Now, that light was shining on someone else’s child. I folded the $9.90 slip of paper and tucked it into my wallet. Inside were last month’s $6.60. And the month before’s $5.30. Carter was standing at the door. I didn’t know when he had come back. He saw me folding the slip, paused, and finally just said: “Take care of the kid. Stop scheming for ways to bleed me dry.” Out in the hallway, he made a phone call. Through the door, I heard him perfectly. “You lost the bet. She didn’t throw a tantrum,” he chuckled. “A gold digger wouldn’t dare give up the position of Mrs. Hayes, especially now that she has a kid.” I leaned against the headboard and closed my eyes. My phone rang. An international number. The person on the other end was silent for a second. “The tickets are booked. Seven days. I’ll be there.” I didn’t speak. He added, “Stella, wait for me.” I looked down at my daughter. She was still asleep, her tiny hand gripping my finger tightly. “Okay.” On the day I was discharged, I packed my things early. My daughter was wearing her only new outfit, a gift from my best friend. I sat on the edge of the bed holding her, waiting for Carter. But in the end, all I got was a text. “The driver is coming to get you. I’m at Chloe’s. She’s being discharged today too, and they don’t have enough hands to help.” Unreasonable, yet entirely expected. Ever since my sister was widowed, he had been “helping out” a lot. I stared at the screen for a few seconds, closed the chat, and didn’t reply. The driver arrived exactly on time. The car was spotless. My daughter started fussing in my arms. It was time to feed her. I pulled out a bottle. The driver glanced at the rearview mirror, looking conflicted. “Ma’am, I’m sorry… Mr. Hayes specifically instructed that no eating or drinking is allowed in the car.” I froze. “I’m just giving her a bottle. It won’t make a mess.” “But Mr. Hayes said… Please don’t make this hard for me, ma’am.” I stopped, put the bottle back into my bag, and held my daughter a little tighter. She cried from hunger. I gently patted her back the entire ride home. When I got to the house, I unlocked my phone and saw a short video Chloe had posted. She was sitting in the passenger seat of Carter’s car. A box of expensive cherries rested on her lap, and she was popping them into her mouth one by one. Red juice splattered everywhere. Carter was driving beside her, glancing over with an indulgent smile. My parents were in the back seat. My mom was holding a bottle for Chloe’s baby, while my dad held a small towel under the baby’s chin, smiling so hard his eyes disappeared. They looked like a perfect, complete family. I swiped the video away. The doorbell rang that afternoon. Chloe stood at the door, holding her chubby, rosy-cheeked baby. She peeked into the living room at the crib and covered her mouth with a giggle. “Sister, why is this crib… so old? Isn’t my brother-in-law rich?” I didn’t answer. She pulled a bag out of her purse and handed it to me. “These are some clothes my baby outgrew. Don’t be offended, Stella, the fabric is really soft. Carter bought them. They were thousands of dollars a piece.” She looked down at my daughter, her smile unwavering. “Sister, why is yours so skinny?” I took the bag and forced a “thank you” out of my throat. I closed the door and immediately threw the bag into the trash can. That night, Maya called me. “I saw the video Chloe posted. I am so mad! She did that on purpose! And Carter—you nearly hemorrhaged having his child, and this is how he treats you?” “Don’t let them walk all over you. Whatever the baby needs, tell me. I’ll buy it.” “Maya, thank you.” “Don’t be polite with me. You’re my number one priority.” My nose stung. At least one person was still on my side. After hanging up, I started packing. A few clothes for me and my daughter, our IDs, and a small bag hidden in the very back of the closet. I didn’t notice when Carter came home. He leaned against the bedroom doorframe, watching me. Suddenly, he let out a scoffing laugh. “If you want money to buy clothes, just ask. Save the tragic acting.” I didn’t turn around. He walked over and suddenly wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my head. The smell of alcohol hit my nose. His voice was soft. “Stella, stop throwing a fit.” I was dazed for a moment. Years ago, he had held me exactly like this. I had been caught in the rain and was running a high fever. He drove all night from out of state just to get to me. He bundled me into his arms and said, “Don’t ever wait for the rain to stop alone again.” Now, this identical, warm embrace was only because he was drunk. The man who once drove through the night for me didn’t even show up to take his newborn baby home from the hospital. I gently removed his hands. “I’m not throwing a fit.” At 3:00 AM, my daughter started crying. I picked her up to nurse her, but she cried after a few weak suckles. I wasn’t producing enough milk. I tore through the cabinets. No formula. I checked my banking app. Balance: $9.90. 3:10 AM. 3:30 AM. 4:00 AM. She kept crying. I paced the living room with her in my arms, circling over and over again. Carter’s master bedroom door was shut. He was sleeping deeply. I kissed my daughter’s forehead. “Baby, Mommy is so sorry.” “Just wait a few more days. Mommy promises to take you away.” My daughter’s fever spiked to 103.6 degrees. I rushed into the ER with her in my arms, registered, waited in line, trembling all over. The doctor took off his stethoscope and frowned. “The child is malnourished, severely underweight, and her immune system is practically non-existent.” He looked up at me, his tone heavy. “This is a highly dangerous condition for a newborn. What is wrong with you parents?” I opened my mouth but couldn’t speak. What was wrong? Her living expenses and mine combined to exactly $9.90 a month. I called Carter. To my surprise, he actually showed up. A sliver of hope rose in my chest. For the first time in three years of marriage, I begged him. “The baby needs specialized formula and nutritional supplements. Can we stop the mystery boxes? Please, just give me a normal allowance.” He stared at me for a few seconds, pulled a card from his pocket, and tossed it to me. “There’s two grand on it. That’s enough.” “It’s not enough. The doctor said the follow-up exams and the out-of-network specialist—” His voice suddenly turned freezing cold. “Stella, $1.88 million couldn’t fill your appetite, and now two grand is too little?” “When you set up that mystery box scam to bleed me dry, did you ever think this day would come?”

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