เรื่องสั้นและนิยายในฉากScumbag Family Emotions

My sister, Kelly Sutton, was totally lovestruck. The night her longtime crush finally said yes, she begged me not to tell our parents about their date. She stayed out all night, and I covered for her. Kelly was so happy, I couldn't help being happy for her. Three months later, she jumped off the roof of our apartment building. Dad had a heart attack and died on the spot. Mom never smiled again. Eventually, she ended up in a psychiatric hospital. More than a decade later, after I became a cop, I dug up an old case that made my blood run cold. Kelly's crush, Calvin Tilley, was a psychopath who used love as bait to deliberately spread HIV, destroying young women's lives. That was why my sister killed herself. Then I opened my eyes and found myself back on that night. Kelly leaned in, her voice low. "He said yes." "Please, Sophie. Keep this between us. Just tell Mom and Dad I'm sleeping over at my best friend's." She stood at the mirror in a floral dress, filling in her brows. My blood went cold. I grabbed her wrist. "No. You're not going anywhere tonight."

My stepson, Lucas Lincoln, is trapped in a fire. After calling the fire brigade, I quickly ring my husband, Jasper Lincoln. Jasper is the leader of a search-and-rescue team, after all. But to my dismay, Jasper is currently keeping his ex-wife, Yvonne Schmidt, company. Yvonne has won the "Forensic Doctor of the Year" award, and so they are out celebrating it. My phone calls are rejected again and again. Jasper never once calls me back, even after Lucas' cries for help disappear entirely. By the time the fire brigade arrives to quell the flames, Lucas has been burned to a crisp. I tell Jasper what happened to our son, but he only gleefully says, "He was nothing but a troublemaker who'd contribute nothing to society. If he's dead, then so be it. This way, he won't grow up to become a menace. "Yvonne happens to be giving a public talk tomorrow and is still in need of a specimen demonstrating burn injuries. She can use Noah's corpse for her demonstration since it's still fresh." I sneer. So Jasper thinks that my own son, Noah Green, is the one who died in the fire. I immediately send Lucas' blackened corpse to Yvonne's operating room.

I am the lawfully wedded wife of Don Jones—the Donna of the Jones Family—and the founding CEO of his medical empire. I stood by Vincent's side as we built it up from a two-room surgical clinic into the crown jewel of European private healthcare. Then, in my eighth month of pregnancy, dying on the operating table, Vincent pulled every surgeon out of my maternity ward for the sake of his mistress. He killed our child with his own hands. He stripped me of the right to ever be a mother. He thought I was a homeless orphan with nowhere to go. He had no idea I was the sole blood heir of the Belmonte Family. After the divorce, I came home to command a global medical empire. He knelt and begged. I watched, cold-eyed, as he fell into hell.

During a gathering with friends, my husband, Kevin Graham, was asked a question by his buddy in Froise. "What are you going to do with your lover, who's two months pregnant with your baby?" Kevin smiled while helping me cut up my steak, and he replied in Froise, "Evie doesn't like children. I'll get Kandi Chutnam to give birth to the baby and send them overseas after that. At least I'll have a child of my own." Tears streamed down my cheek as I ate my steak, and Kevin asked nervously, "What's wrong, Evie?" I wiped away my tears and replied with a smile, "I must've used too much hot sauce." However, there was no hot sauce on the table. I was crying because I understood Froise.

On Christmas Eve, my six-year-old, Yule, was dying from cancer, and all he wanted was a gift from his dad dressed as Santa. I called Peter, my husband, begging him to come. His reply? "Can you stop blowing up my phone? I don't have time for this! I'm helping Tracey find Puffy. Do you know how upset she is?" Oh, Tracey. His first love. And Puffy? Her dog. I told him Yule might not make it through the night. His response? A straight-up dagger: "Don't act like this isn't your fault, Freya. If Yule hadn't kicked Puffy, none of this would've happened. Tomorrow, make sure he apologizes to Tracey." Then he hung up. That night, I sat with Yule, crying as I helped him celebrate his last Christmas. By morning, Peter's social medias were still full of posts about that freaking dog. Mine? Yule's obituary. Ten years of marriage, gone.

The Sullivans, one of Delston's richest families, are coming to the orphanage to find their long-lost daughter. Before they arrive, my childhood friend, Alex Jenkins, hands me a gold pendant. "Mr. Anderson said you were wearing this when you were first brought here. He told me to return it to you." Comments suddenly begin appearing one after another in front of me. "Wait, Alex gave Olivia's pendant to Rhea? Is he seriously trying to pass Rhea off as the Sullivan daughter?" "Of course he is. Olivia's pregnant. What rich family wants its long-lost daughter showing up pregnant and unmarried?" "They'll let Rhea take her place until Olivia has the baby. Then Olivia can come back, expose her, and take her place in the family. She's the real Sullivan, after all." "Poor Rhea has no clue what's really going on. Now everyone's going to think she's some scheming orphan trying to worm her way into a rich family." And that was exactly what happened the first time around. Thrilled, I went to meet the Sullivans with the gold pendant. Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan mistook me for their long-lost daughter and spoiled me rotten. Then, at my birthday party two years later, Olivia Sullivan burst in sobbing. She accused me of stealing her pendant and taking her place in the family. Alex turned on me too, telling everyone I'd been manipulative since we were kids. Overnight, I became the most hated woman in Delston high society. The entire industry blacklisted me, and in the end, I died on the streets. When I opened my eyes again, Alex was holding out the same gold pendant to me. And yet, I still smile and take it.