A Quiet Place: The Road Ahead

As the adopted child of the Steward family, I was the glass child, the last child, the black sheep, the ignored. I wasn’t wanted, I was chosen. Chosen to become the one to uphold their ‘social standings’. They had no care for me, they picked me, they saw the quiet, bullied girl in the orphanage who was constantly picked on but couldn’t fight back. And they decided that I was the perfect choice, to be the poster child that cleaned their poorly received social standings. Now, I’ve been promised to the devil CEO in place of my runaway older sister who decided to run merely days before her engagement ceremony. Adrian was no sweetheart, he was cold and standoffish. Not a man of many words but a man with a commanding presence. I thought I would forever be miserable in the marriage but luck shined on me because my new husband wasn’t what the media and the rumor made him to be. He may very well be my fortune. But my happiness has never been guaranteed, just when I thought I could finally be happy, secrets, snakes and unfolded memories threaten to ruin it.

Three months pregnant, I doubled over in agony, blood pooling beneath me. I called Milo Prince in a last-ditch effort for help. The moment he picked up, his voice dripped with irritation. "What is it now?" My vision was blurring. Before I could cry for help, I heard his childhood sweetheart's teasing laugh. "No interruptions today, okay?" The line went dead in the next second. When I opened my eyes again, my belly was flat. I checked Jessica Clay's social media. A photo showed their hands intertwined, her wrist adorned with the Prince family's heirloom bracelet. Her caption read, [He said this bracelet was made for me, so I'm keeping it.]

I went abroad for a year to further my studies and kept in touch with my girlfriend through video calls every day. One day, I saw her first love posted a photo with a caption: [We are finally back together after ten years!] In the photo, my girlfriend was visibly pregnant, holding the arm of the man next to her with a sweet smile.

After Jacob Locke brings up breaking up with me once again, I don't wait for him to say anything else. I pack up my things and move out on my own, then quietly cut ties with our past. On the first day, I cancel the wedding planner I booked three years ago but kept delaying. On the second day, I turn off the automatic payments for his mother's treatment. I also politely refuse his sister when she reaches out for money. On the third day, I accept my superior's transfer proposal and get ready to settle down in a southern city. The moment I board the plane, I suddenly get curious. Without me, the free housekeeper who hasn't taken a break in the past decade and the always-on ATM, how will Jacob fare? How will he care for his paralyzed mother, deal with his vain sister, and face his precious junior who's the apple of his eye?

As the Luna of the pack, I was replaced by a giant Plush Wolf Doll. Every night, Alpha Julian clutched it in his arms and fell asleep. Its voice—manipulated by Alpha pheromones—came out in breathy moans like a woman’s, keeping me awake all night. At our son’s first birthday banquet, I filed for divorce. “Maybe that Plush Wolf Doll is better suited to be your Luna. Let’s get divorced—I’m severing our mate bond.” “You’re jealous… of a stuffed toy? Chloe, have you lost your mind?” Everyone thought I was making a scene for no reason. Julian’s Beta assistant, Harper, was especially agitated. “The little wolf pup just turned one! Are you really going to let him grow up without a mother?” “I’m asking for a divorce, not dropping dead. How could he not have a mother? Or… are you getting so worked up because you want to replace me as my pup’s mother? Or maybe replace the plush toy?” Outside, my friend—and lawyer—Victor was already waiting. “I’ve sent someone to dig into it. The truth you want will be in our hands soon.” “Good. Three days from now, in court—you’ll be my lawyer.” I tapped open a strange video. The giant Plush Wolf Doll walked across the room, opened the fridge, and took a drink. But I remembered perfectly—this toy could only make sounds. It couldn’t move, let alone eat. Three days. That was all I needed to prepare. Then, before the eyes of the entire pack, the truth would have nowhere to hide.

On day ten of our cold war, Barry posted a pic—him and Lyla, locked in a kiss. His 'one true love.' I sent in my study abroad application without a word. At our grad party, he strolled in with Lyla, fingers laced with hers, looking at her with all his affection. A friend hesitated. "But what about Amelia? She loves you. You guys are getting married." Barry smirked. "She was just a stand-in. Now that Lyla's back, my fiancée should change too." So I slipped off the ring, handed it over, and disappeared. And he lost it. Tore through everything trying to find me. Years later, he finally did. Saw me with my husband, picking out baby supplies. His eyes went red. "Amelia, come back with me. Please?"

During the holidays, I've worked my ass off just to whip up a feast filled with my wife, Willow Steele's favorite dishes. But soon, my mother-in-law pulls out a paternity test report and announces with a smile that the birth father of my daughter, Naomi Johnson, is actually Willow's childhood sweetheart, Luther Lloyd. Everyone bursts into laughter before saying teasingly that "no wonder Naomi looks so much like Luther". Willow's father even pats Luther on the shoulder while looking at him as though the latter were a part of the family. What stings my heart the most is that Willow is laughing so hard that she can barely stand up straight. So, that leaves her clinging to Luther while she taps Naomi on the forehead with a finger. "Go on, call Mr. Lloyd 'daddy.' He's your real dad, after all." Naomi, who has always kept me at an arm's length, rushes into Luther's arms without hesitation and starts calling him "daddy" sweetly. I fall silent for a moment as I watch everything unfold. Then, I draw to my feet and look at Willow. "Let's get a divorce." But Willow just chuckles icily in return. "Must you go that far? My mom was just joking around." When I'm about to leave, Willow turns to tell the others, "He's just being ridiculous. Once I give him the cold shoulder for a few days, he'll still beg me to return to his side pathetically." But what Willow doesn't know is that I've chosen to endure everything she's hurled at me out of love in the past. Now, I want nothing more than to leave her permanently.

"We'll exchange your blood with your sister's. From now on, Jenna will have your scent. She'll go to the Blood Shadow Pack in your place and become Lionel's Luna." Mom said. At this moment I was tightened in a surgery bed. My face filled with disbelief. That was ridiculous! Jenna would replace me to marry my mate?! "No! Lionel is MY MATE!" I screamed. "What about me? What will happen to me?!" "Your father has made his decision. There's no room for backing out now," Mom said, "You're too ordinary, too quiet, my dear, you can't be a good Luna. Lionel will eventually get bored of you and abandon you, and it will also break the relationship between our two Packs. But Jenna is different. She's born a rightful Luna." Mod touched my face but I couldn't feel any warmth from her hand. "No!!!" Tears welled up in my eyes. "No... mom, please..." Mom sighed. She turned around and told the doctor to start the operation. No matter how much I cried or begged, she never looked back at me again. I felt the thick, cold needle piercing my veins, my blood was also draining out ... From now on, I lost my scent, my mate, and even my name...

My wife, Wendy, faked her death and took her younger sister’s identity, and I pretended not to know. I removed her from the position of general manager at the company and went to the police station to cancel her identity registration. In my past life, Wendy’s younger sister, Stacy, died in a car accident. Wendy chose to live as her, only because she could not bear to let Eric, her sister’s husband, become a widower. I confronted Wendy and demanded to know why she was impersonating her sister, but she refused to admit anything. “I understand that losing Wendy hurts, but you cannot treat me as if I’m her just because she is gone.” After that, Wendy spread rumors everywhere, saying I had lost my mind. She claimed that my wife had just died and I was already harboring improper thoughts toward her younger sister. In a short time, I suffered an unprecedented wave of online harassment. In the end, an overzealous netizen stabbed me to death in an alley. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Wendy was preparing to take her sister’s identity.

In the third year after my death, the one who remained faithfully by my wife's side was still the bionic robot I had painstakingly designed. It looked exactly like me and carried within it every detail of my mannerisms, speech, and habits. The only difference was that it never lost its temper with her. Because of that, my wife never sensed anything amiss. Yet each night, she brought home a different man, deliberately testing "me," desperate to see the wild jealousy and rage I once wore so vividly. Then, one day, her childhood sweetheart and first love, shoved "me" off the balcony. It was only then, in her horror, that my wife realized… "I" didn't bleed.