2025-11-16 00:00:00

At 3:00 p.m., Rose Jenkins, the new hire who had barely been here a few days, suddenly tagged me in the company group chat with a few hundred people in it. [Hi, can you stop hammering your keyboard? The noise is making my stomach hurt! The baby I'm carrying is sleeping. If you shake it into a concussion, I swear I'll make your whole family pay for it!] I rushed to explain. I was racing to finish a proposal that was due soon, and I was using a silent keyboard. But she wouldn't believe me, no matter what I said. I kept my patience and explained it over and over. To avoid any more trouble, I even asked if I could move out to the hallway to work. What I didn't expect was that a week later, she would storm into the break room with a kettle of freshly boiled water and dump it straight over my head. I collapsed in a pool of scalding water, my skin blistering and tearing open. She kept screaming as if she had lost her mind and smashed my head with her high heels, over and over. "It's all your fault! I lost the baby! Your keyboard noise shook my son to death!!" My vision blurred. By the time everything went black, I still couldn't understand how a silent keyboard could possibly kill someone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she first went off on me in the group chat. This time, faced with the same insults, I didn't back down. I went straight into the chat and fired back. [Stop pretending you're pregnant. You've got more going on down there than your dad does!]

I get sent away to the countryside because my parents fear that I'll use my privileged background to lord over others. In turn, they're taking in Tina from that family to the city for her upbringing and schooling. In the countryside, I get up at 4:00 am daily to feed the pigs, then it's a grueling three-hour trek through the mountains to school. I'm also barely surviving due to constant malnutrition. I reach out to my parents for a mere 300 dollars for tuition, only for them to accuse me of spending recklessly. In the meantime, they're donating an entire building just to secure a spot for Tina at her preferred school. I finally make it into Tina's high school and earn a guaranteed university admission spot, only for my parents to order me to hand it over to her as they unleash their fury on me, yelling, "You're clearly bad to the bone, always trying to take things that belong to Tina." "Tina almost gave up on life because of what you did. You're indebted to her for the rest of your life." They, using their parental rights, forfeit my guaranteed university admission spot to fulfill Tina's wish. They then transfer all company shares and real estate to her for her future security, while the whole family makes arrangements to move abroad together. I take in everything before me, no longer feeling hurt. I calmly pack my belongings and walk away from the place where I don't belong.

During my night shift, I refused to help my adopted sister administer fluids to her patient. After the wrong drug is given, I watch a seven-year-old boy die after he suffers an allergic reaction right before my eyes. In my previous life, the boy's family stormed the nurses' station after I'd just finished administering his IV medication. The next thing I knew, I was violently beaten up. "You poisoned my grandchild by giving him the wrong medicine!" But the fluid I introduced into his bloodstream was a simple glucose solution. It couldn't have led to such a disastrous outcome. When I was on the brink of passing out, someone called the police. I thought help had finally arrived, but I was sorely mistaken. The police officer—my brother—pinned me to the ground. "We found your prints on the drug vial. You're a murderer." Then, my childhood friend, a forensic pathologist, held up an autopsy report and accused me of the same crime. "The patient's time of death is around 5:00 am. That's the same time you administered drugs into his system." Unable to prove my innocence, I was ultimately beaten to death by the boy's enraged family members. My brother and my childhood friend had always loved me. Even on the brink of death, I couldn't understand why they would do this to me. Now, I open my eyes and find myself back on the night it all began.

On the first day of every month, my mom will give me my allowance based on the number of times I had checked in with her last month. "You'll receive 20 dollars for greeting your parents once in the morning and once in the evening. But last month, you only hit ten days' worth of quota, so you can only receive 200 dollars. This also means your 300-dollar punctuality fee will be deducted as well. "After adding on 150 dollars for your basic necessities, you shall receive only 350 dollars for this month's allowance. Remember to write a reflection report on your lack of punctuality later. I'll only transfer you the money if your report is acceptable." I become so overwhelmed by anxiety that my voice starts trembling. "I was busy with my finals last month, Mom! I had to line up outside the library at 5:00 am every day just so I could secure myself a seat! That's why I couldn't call you in time!" In a choked-up tone, I plead to my mom, "I need 600 dollars for the train ticket all the way home during the holidays! 350 dollars really isn't enough for me! Mom, can you please—" But my mom cuts me off firmly, "The allowance system is something that I've specifically designed for you so that I can help you get rid of the bad habit of wanting to receive everything without putting in hard work! Why can't you just understand that I'm doing this for your own good?" After that, she ends the call mercilessly. Just as I'm filled with despair and helplessness, a blond appears before my eyes. He's willing to buy my train ticket for me, but in return, I need to leave with him.

The full moon hangs high in the night sky at 1:00 am. My mate, Alpha Chris Dalton of the Southern Gray Wolf pack has just returned from a patrol around the border. It has been three days since he last slept. He still smells of blood and rust from the times he had fought against packs of Rogues. When we're about to rest, Chris hears Emily Gibson's cries coming from his mind-link. "Alpha Chris, I think I smell a Rogue near my house. I'm so scared…" Chris shifts into a huge wolf and dashes out of our home without hesitation. He only returns the next day at dawnbreak, his exhaustion evident on his face. "Emily suffered from a fright last night, so I had to keep her company the whole night." When Chris notices the way I sit on the edge of the bed quietly without moving in to kiss him as usual, he approaches me in exasperation. Then, he wraps an arm around my shoulders before nuzzling his head against my neck affectionately, as though he were a huge dog who had made a mistake. "Emily is the mate of a Beta who has sacrificed himself for the pack, Selena. Not to mention, she's with pup at the moment. As the pack's Alpha, I'm obligated to take care of her. But I promise that I'll reduce the visitation times in the future, so please stop being unhappy with me, okay?" With red-rimmed eyes, I push Chris' arm away. "Alpha Chris, let's sever our mate bond."

04:00 AM. JFK International Airport. I switched off airplane mode, and my phone lit up. The first notification was an Instagram story from my husband, Donovan Valentino, Don of the Valentino family, posted at 3:30 AM: a photo of Seraphina Moretti’s back, captioned, “Run 50 completed. Package delivered safe.” An hour before that, my flight had hit catastrophic clear-air turbulence, dropping two thousand feet in seconds. I’d clung to my seatbelt until my knuckles turned white, the crumpled threat letter from a rival crew pressed like a blade against my ribs. In those blind, falling seconds, one thought burned through the panic: If I live through this—if Donovan is waiting at arrivals—I’ll tear up my transfer papers to Dubai and stay. But there were no missed calls. No messages. He’d been too busy collecting Seraphina. He knew my flight details. He just didn’t care. Four years of marriage. 50 fully armed security details for Seraphina. For my 112 long-haul flights over those same four years? The most I ever got was a driver in an unmarked sedan. Even the night Gambino’s crew tailed me from Manhattan, and I spent six hours locked in a diner bathroom. He didn’t pick up until dawn, after the twelfth try. My transfer to Dubai was confirmed. The signed divorce settlement was in my bag. This was the last time I’d ever come back for him.

Since it's already the end of the year, the music app I use produces a report on the songs I've listened to in 2025. The keyword of my report is "resonance". Over the year, I don't spend much time listening to the songs on this app. My girlfriend, Sienna Fletcher, is the one who's been using my account this whole time. There's a row beneath the keyword that's written in a tiny font. "You had listened to this song with someone at 4:00 am on December 1st. It turns out that love can go beyond a night's sleep." My breath gets hitched in my throat. December 1st is my birthday. But that night, I had gone to bed at an early hour. Meanwhile, Sienna had left hurriedly after cutting my birthday cake with me with the excuse that she needed to pull an overnight shift at the company. For some reason, I tap onto the unfamiliar-looking profile that has been interacting frequently with my account with a trembling finger. Their keyword of the year is "favor". My heart skips a beat at the sight. Then, I tap on the details. "Over the year, you've listened to songs with this user 688 times in the middle of the night. Every time you do, it's a secretive conversation meant for your souls." The next thing I know, I receive a message from Sienna. "Babe, I need to work overtime tonight again. You don't have to wait up for me. Just go to bed early." At the same time, a new post is uploaded on the unfamiliar profile. It features a photo of two hands that are intertwined together. "I love working overtime with her the most. I want to listen to songs with her forever."

On the day I'm about to quit the game, I see countless live comments flashing across my vision. "Yay! The male supporting lead is about to quit the game!" "Now, the male lead won't have to worry about getting exposed for using the male supporting lead's game account to get into online relationships with others!" "Our darling male lead is too smart, after all! Whenever he goes on dates, he often uses the voice chat function in the game. That's why the male supporting lead is still kept in the dark!" "Holy shit, Henry really is lucky!" "To think that he used Vincent's max-level account to flirt with the four richest female players on the server!" "Later at 2:00 pm, he'll be meeting his first date partner, Yvonne Johnson the cold and aloof campus belle, at Cosmic Coffee!" "Tomorrow, he'll be meeting up with the top assassin in-game! The day after that, he'll go on a date with the second-highest paying player of the game! Wow, his time management skills really are amazing!" The "Henry" whom the live comments are referring to is Henry Luster, my roommate. So, he's been flirting with four of the top-tier rich female players while impersonating me, huh? More live comments streak past my eyes at that moment. "Why isn't the male supporting lead leaving? Yvonne is already waiting for the male lead right now!" "This is their first romantic date as the leads of this story! I can't wait to watch it unfold!" As I turn to look at Henry, who's styling his hair before the mirror, I suddenly realize that I'm the supporting male lead whom the live comments are referring to. My lips curl into a small smile. Since Henry has been using my identity to become a virtual casanova, then it's not wrong of me to attend each date in person on his behalf, right?

An alarm wakes everyone up at 1:00 am. It turns out that a few college students have gone missing during their exploration in Wolffang Valley. My heart goes tense at the news. After all, my stepdaughter, Nancy Campton, had told me yesterday that she'd be exploring that place! Since Nancy has asthma, I specifically prepare medication that's meant to treat asthma in my medical kit just in case anything happens. After carrying my backpack, I begin urging my husband, Jack Campton, who's also the leader of the rescue team, to set off right away. But he keeps stopping me in my tracks. "What's the rush? Let's wait for Dakota to finish doing her makeup." Half an hour later, Dakota Sweeney, who has a face full of makeup and is wearing a pink rescue jacket, begins complaining in a high-pitched voice. "Why did you keep rushing me? Thanks to you, my eyeliner came out all crooked!" On the way to the valley, Dakota actually pulls out a pair of pink lace panties. After unscrewing the cap of a bottle of life-saving water, she starts washing it with said water. I can't endure her stupid antics anymore. "Have you gone nuts? This bottle of water could potentially save someone's life!" But Dakota replies in a matter-of-fact tone, "I'm a woman with principles! I must wash my underwear that I've changed out of on the same day!" Jack shoves me away at that moment. He then snatches the bottled water from me before passing it to Dakota. "Willow Armstrong, you're the crazy one here! Is it wrong for Dakota to take care of her hygiene?" As I stare at Jack, a cold smile slowly spreads across my face. It's not wrong for Dakota to take care of her hygiene. I just wonder if Jack is capable of facing the consequences behind Dakota's tendency to drag things out.

After dating Gabriel Lowe for three years, we finally saved up enough money to buy a villa for ourselves. I personally designed this villa. But what I didn't expect was that the gas line in my villa would explode on the day Gabriel and I were meant to receive the keys. Not only did the entire villa get reduced into ruins, but the explosion also killed the neighboring family of three. On top of that, the fire even destroyed their antique painting that was worth 500 million dollars. Since I took responsibility for the explosion, I faced massive compensation claims. My mother-in-law and Gabriel had tears streaking down their faces as they promised to help me tide over this crisis, even if it meant selling everything under their name. I was touched by their words, so I used all of my assets in compensating the victims. After that, I spent the next 20 years in prison, only to die of severe illness there. But when I was on the verge of dying, I saw Gabriel with his arm around his first love, Jasmine Wade. Apparently, they were here to visit me. They grinned maliciously at me outside the bars. "The truth is, the family didn't die at all. The painting was a cheap imitation, too. I bribed them so that they could fake their deaths and leave the country. That's how I successfully got my hands on all of your assets. "If I didn't do that, how would I be able to marry Jasmine and move her into the villa?" It turned out that my decades of atonement was nothing but a huge scam targeted at my wealth and life staged by others. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I'm meant to receive my keys. This time, I've personally checked all the pipes, installed seven safety valves, and taken away all the blueprints. Let's see how the explosion will occur now that there aren't any leak points! But at 3:00 pm, the explosion in the villa still occurs…