LOGINInstead of looking upset like Marcus expected, I actually looked relieved to see the divorce papers all signed. There was no panic on my face at all, which made Marcus feel angry and confused about how easily I could leave him.
He pulled Sophia close and smiled down at me with a cruel look.
"Next month, I'm going to marry Sophia as my legal wife. You, as her sister, are invited too." His voice was cold and sharp. "Unlike you, who could never give me a child, Sophia will do everything a Moretti family wife should do. Her children will be my heirs."
Sophia's eyes lit up with excitement. She hadn't expected Marcus to marry her so soon.
"Ava, I know you loved Marcus a lot, but please try to understand, sister. You can't force someone to love you back," she said with fake sweetness in her voice.
I squeezed my hands into tight fists, trying to stay calm even though my heart was breaking into pieces. It would have been okay if he just replaced me - I had no hope left for Marcus anyway. But to say that I could never be a mother? That cut deeper than anything else.
He crushed my heart without any mercy.
The office felt too small, too hot. The smell of Sophia's expensive Dior perfume made me feel sick.
"Goodbye, sister Ava." Sophia's smile was full of mockery. "If you want, I can make you one of my bridesmaids."
"I'd rather die," I whispered under my breath.
I ran out of the office with tears filling my eyes, not caring about anything anymore. I just needed to get away from them. But as I rushed through the glass doors outside the building, I crashed right into someone, and my body fell backward from the impact.
The next moment, gentle arms caught me and held me tight, stopping me from hitting the ground.
Looking up through my blurry, tear-filled eyes, I apologized quickly.
"I-I'm sorry, please forgive me... it was my fault."
"No."
The answer surprised me, and I stopped moving to look up at the person who caught me. It was a man wearing a black mask that covered half his face. Beautiful blue eyes stared back at me with concern.
"If you're really sorry, you better make up for my loss." He pointed to the spilled coffee on the ground, which made me feel even worse.
"Okay." I fumbled with my purse, trying to find some money, but he stopped me.
"Not like that. There's a cake shop near the office. Buy me something there."
The weird request made me stop crying as I pouted like a child.
"Fine. But if you're trying to kidnap me, you should know that I don't have any money, and I have no family to pay ransom for me. Also, I just got fired today." My complaint made him laugh in a warm, rich way.
"Alright, let's postpone the kidnapping for later then—"
"Wait, what? Are you really going to kidnap me?"
"No, darling." He spoke clearly, then muttered something under his breath that sounded like, 'Even if I wanted to kidnap you, Ava, I'm not exactly a kidnapper.'
"What did you say?"
"Nothing. Let's just go."
We walked to the bakery shop, and this shameless man didn't think twice before ordering what looked like a whole buffet - raspberry cheesecake, chocolate chip cookies, a blueberry milkshake, and so many other things.
Strangely, all of the items he ordered were my favorites. We got a table by the window with a beautiful view of the Seine River.
"What, you're not going to eat any of this?" I asked angrily, just thinking about how much money all this food cost. Just because I spilled his coffee, he made me buy him a feast.
"I don't like sweets."
By now, my stress and tears had completely disappeared, and I looked ready to murder this man.
"What?!"
"Since you spent so much money on it, why don't you try how it tastes?" Even though I couldn't see his whole face, I could hear his voice become gentle, and it looked like he was smiling behind that mask.
"I hate that I bumped into you!" I shouted. My pregnancy hormones were making me drool over all the food, so I dove in without caring about this stranger. If I paid for it, I might as well enjoy every bite.
The raspberry cheesecake melted on my tongue like heaven. For the first time in days, I felt a little bit happy.
When I had almost finished eating everything, the man's phone rang, making him sigh deeply.
"It was nice meeting you, stranger. Now I have to go." He stood up and put some dollar on the table.
Suddenly it hit me - this was a complete stranger, and I had been eating with him like we were old friends, completely forgetting about Marcus and Sophia.
"Wait... do we know each other?" I asked him quickly as he got ready to leave.
"Maybe, darling." And with that mysterious answer, he was gone.
The waiter soon came over with a bouquet of beautiful yellow roses, holding them out to me.
"Um, I think you have the wrong person. I just need the bill."
"Madam, there's no mistake at all. The bill is already paid, and these flowers were left by the gentleman who was with you." The waiter smiled kindly. "Also, you now have a lifetime membership to our chain of restaurants, so wherever you go, you'll get the best service."
Shocked, I took the roses. They smelled like sunshine and hope. Just then, I saw a small card tucked between the flowers.
'Welcome to Canada, Ava~ Your friend Dominic Moretti'
"Dominic Moretti." My breath caught in my throat as my eyes went wide with shock.
The roses suddenly felt heavy in my hands. Dominic Moretti - Marcus's older brother who had disappeared years ago after a family fight.
While I was trying to figure out what just happened, Marcus found himself thinking about me obsessively. The very next morning, he ordered his assistant to find out everything about where I was in canada and to have someone secretly watch me.
To get more information about where I might go and who I might talk to, Marcus searched through all my things in our mansion.
When he opened my walk-in closet, he realized that all the expensive jewelry he had bought me as gifts was still there, untouched. Most of the designer dresses still had their tags on them. Only a few regular clothes that I had bought with my own money from working at the gallery and restaurant were missing.
After our fight, Marcus had wanted to burn all my things, but seeing all the untouched expensive items made him freeze.
"Strange. A greedy woman like her... why would she leave all this behind?" Marcus muttered to himself as he went through my belongings.
His hands touched the Cartier necklace he'd given me for our first anniversary - still in its box. The Tiffany earrings from last Christmas - never worn.
Suddenly, a document fell out from between some old books.
[KIDNEY TRANSPLANT]
[DONOR NAME: AVA HARRISON]
Marcus stared at the paper, his hands shaking. The date showed it was from two years ago - right around the time I had been "sick" for weeks and he had accused me of being lazy.
[Author's note: Updated every day! Updated every day! ]
Hope went into labor on a Tuesday morning, three weeks early, while sitting beside her mother's bed.She'd been reading aloud from the memoir—the one Ava had told her to publish with all the doubts and failures included. The manuscript was nearly complete, eighty years of choosing love compiled into words that future generations could learn from."And that's when you decided to create the Ordinary Survivors Initiative," Hope read. "Not because Elena deserved redemption, but because she needed it. Because need matters more than deserve. Because—"The contraction hit hard enough to make her gasp.Ava's eyes, which had been unfocused as always, suddenly shifted. Not focused exactly, but aware. Present in a way she hadn't been in months."Baby," Ava whispered. Her first word in five months."Mom?" Hope breathed through the contraction. "Can you hear me?""Your baby. Coming. I want... to meet..."Another contraction. Hope fumbled for her phone, texting Elias and the family. But she didn't
The debate continued for three more hours. The family remained split.Isabella argued that Before the Break violated legal principles even if it didn't violate specific laws. Kai worried about the foundation's reputation if the surveillance became public. Solana refused to continue working as a sensitive if the methods didn't change. Aurora questioned the entire premise of predicting human behavior.But Marcus Jr. kept returning to the same point: "847 families didn't experience trauma. How can that be wrong?"Finally, Hope made her decision."Before the Break is suspended. Effective immediately.""Hope—" Marcus Jr. started."I'm not shutting it down permanently. But we're pausing it while we redesign the approach. No more algorithm scanning. No more data aggregation without consent. No more psychic profiling.""Then how do we identify at-risk families?""We don't. We offer services to everyone. We advertise parenting support. We provide free counseling. We create economic assistance
The next morning, Marcus Jr. presented Before the Break to the entire family. He'd prepared meticulously—slides showing the algorithm's design, testimonials from families they'd helped, statistics proving the program's effectiveness."We're not violating privacy," he explained. "Everything we access is already collected by government agencies, hospitals, schools. We're just the first ones to analyze it collectively. To see patterns that individual agencies miss.""That's exactly the problem," Isabella said. She was a lawyer now, having passed the bar two years earlier. "Just because data exists doesn't mean you have the right to aggregate it without consent. Each piece might be public, but the combination creates a profile no one agreed to.""But it saves lives," Marcus Jr. countered. "847 situations that didn't become trauma. 847 families that didn't break. Isn't that worth some discomfort about data analysis?""Discomfort?" Solana's voice was sharp. "Try violation. I've been on the
Marcus Jr. burst into Hope's office without knocking, his laptop open, eyes wild with excitement."It's working. Hope, it's actually working."Hope looked up from the funding reports she'd been reviewing. At seven months pregnant, everything exhausted her, including her cousin's intensity. "What's working?""Before the Break. My prevention initiative. Look at these numbers."He slammed the laptop on her desk. Spreadsheets filled the screen, data she could barely parse in her exhausted state."In the first year, we've identified 847 families at high risk for abuse or violence. We intervened before anything happened. Before the break. Before the trauma. We stopped it, Hope. We actually prevented it."Hope felt her breath catch. "847 families?""847 situations. Some were domestic violence about to escalate. Some were parents on the edge of hurting their kids. Some were abuse that hadn't started yet but was about to. We saw the patterns. We reached out. We got them help. And nothing happe
The meeting with the five government representatives happened two weeks later. Hope stood before them, seven months pregnant now, feeling her baby kick as she prepared to speak."I've considered your generous offer to fund mandatory implementation of the Love Multiplier Project," she began. "And I'm declining."The room erupted in protests. She held up her hand."Not because I don't want to reach every child. I do. Not because I don't trust you to implement it respectfully. I believe you would. But because forcing children to learn about choice contradicts the fundamental lesson we're teaching.""My great-great-grandmother jumped in front of bullets. She wasn't ordered to. She wasn't required to. She chose to. That choice—that moment of deciding love was worth the cost—that's what changed everything. If she'd been mandated to protect people, it wouldn't have meant the same thing.""The Love Multiplier Project teaches children they have power. That their choices matter. That they can d
Hope traveled to Singapore, where the government had implemented the Love Multiplier Project as required curriculum two years earlier. She visited three schools, asking students what they thought.The answers were complicated."I'm glad I learned it," one sixteen-year-old said. "But I resented it at first. Being forced to talk about feelings and choices felt manipulative. Like they were trying to program us.""Did your opinion change?""Eventually. When I realized no one was telling me what to feel or choose. Just giving me tools to think about it. But that first year, I hated it. Felt like propaganda, even though it wasn't."Another student, younger, had a different perspective. "My parents would never have let me take this class if it was optional. They think talking about emotions is weak. But because it's required, I got to learn it anyway. It changed my life. I learned I don't have to be like my dad. I can choose differently."Hope heard that over and over. Students who were grat







