Detective

It's 11:30 pm. Home alone, I decide to order some takeout. When the map shows the delivery guy is zero miles away, I receive a call from him. I pick up, only to hear unsettling silence from the other end. I hang up, annoyed. The next moment, the guy texts me, "Sorry, I'm hearing-impaired and unable to speak. I called to notify you to pick up your food as soon as possible. I can't explain things over the phone, and I apologize for that." Then comes another text. "You must've been waiting for a long time. I've left your order at your door, so please pick it up as soon as you can." Just as I prepare to open the door, I see bars of live comments—reminiscent of livestream chats—floating right before my eyes. "Don't open the door! That dude isn't a delivery guy at all! He's a murderer!" "He called you to check if you're a woman living alone!" "Seriously, why are all thriller story protagonists always so dumb? The delivery guy is obviously suspicious, yet she still wants to open the door."

I could always hear strange noises coming from the room next to me. A cacophony of people having intercourse. The noise kept me awake all night. But the strange thing was, he lives alone.

Emma lost her parents at a young age. Determined to solve their mysterious death, she became a detective. Not the best at her job, yet, she decided that only death would make her give up her quest for truth. Years gone by, she received a tip that led her to raid a warehouse. In the process, she stumbled upon a truth that a different world has tried to keep hidden. Werewolves were real. At the point of almost getting killed by these vicious creatures, the unexpected happened. A man with the speed of light and the calmness of water saved her. It didn't stop there, whenever she was in danger, the man appeared. It seemed like he could hear her distress. Indeed, he could. Alpha Clyde wasn't one with a lot of free time on his hands to be playing a vigilante. He only did it for his Mate. Getting the news that she was Alpha Clyde's mate, Emma knew that everything was about to change. What she didn't know was that this change had everything to do with her past, present, and future.

The richest man in the country, Sebastian Vance, has a ring custom-made to my exact measurements, worth billions of dollars, for the woman who will be his bride. In the first life, my stepsister, Mia Lowe, slips on the ring and marries him. Sebastian claws her face, shouting, "She's not the one!" In the second life, my other stepsister, Lorraine Lowe, loses 30 pounds before marrying him. He shoves her down the stairs anyway and says, "She's not the one either." In the third life, my stepmother, Vivian Cole, grits her teeth and slices off a piece of her own flesh just to force the ring onto her finger. Sebastian sneers and pushes her under the bathwater, holding her down until her body goes limp. By the fourth life, out of options and terrified, they finally send me. I slide the ring on, and it fits perfectly. My entire family lets out a sigh of relief. But the second Sebastian lays his eyes on me, he draws a knife and stabs me to death. "Why is it still not her? Where is she?" In the last life, he has his assistant, Owen Hayes, deliver a ring to us. All four of us insist that it won't fit. Owen shoots us a strange look. "Mr. Vance said the rightful owner of this ring is among you."

When I got home, I received dozens of voice messages from a parent. They had been sent in the group chat with other parents of children in the same kindergarten class as my daughter, Lily. [Ms. Channing, didn't I tell you that my daughter is allergic to furry toys? Why did you allow that boy, Sparky, to give my daughter a hugging bear?] Ms. Channing quickly denied this. No child called Sparky had ever studied in the kindergarten. Another parent was also furious about this. [How can you claim that? My son said Sparky would always force him to play hide-and-seek. If he refuses, Sparky would grab his hair!] I quickly asked Lily what this was about. Lily took out a hugging bear from behind her back and told me about it. [Ms. Channing can't see Sparky. Only smart children can see him. Sparky is a little boy with red eyes. Every child who plays hide-and-seek with Sparky will get a hugging bear.]

Nagbago ang buhay ni Arisielle Dominguez, nang ampunin siya ng pamilyang Del Quinco–Huangcho—isang mayamang angkang may limang anak na lalaki at isang babae na kaedad niya. Akala niya natagpuan niya na ang tunay na tahanan. Mula sa unang araw pa lang, alam na niyang iba ang titig sa kanya ni Knife Blade Del Quinco-Huangcho—ang tahimik, matalim, at misteryosong middle child na parang laging may tinatago. Lumipas ang mga taon. Si Knife, isa nang kilalang detective—brilliant, cold, at halos hindi na mahawakan ng mundo. Si Arisielle naman, isang designer na tahimik ang pamumuhay, pero hindi pa rin nakakaalpas sa mga titig at salita ng lalaking matagal na niyang iniiwasan. Hanggang isang araw, biglang gumuho ang lahat. Namatay si Katana, ang kapatid nilang babae, at ang mga bakas ng katotohanan ay nagtuturo sa isang lugar na tinatawag na Euphoria—isang lihim na mundo ng kasiyahan, karangyaan, at kasalanan. At doon sila muling nagtagpo. Sa lugar kung saan hindi mo alam kung sino ang inosente at sino ang nagtatago ng halimaw sa ilalim ng ngiti. Doon muling sumiklab ang tensyon—hindi na lang dahil sa nakaraan, kundi dahil sa pagnanasang hindi na nila kayang itago. Sa gitna ng mga lihim, tukso, at kasinungalingan—isang tanong lang ang kailangang sagutin: Hanggang saan mo ipaglalaban ang pag-ibig kung ang tanging bawal ay siya ring tanging gusto mo? "You're mine, Arisielle. My little sis." "I am always yours Kuya KB."

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

I had just gotten home when a parent in my son’s class group chat erupted: [Ms. Zinn, what kind of place are you running? Do you let just any random stray off the street become a teacher?] [My daughter came home, grabbed two forks, and tried to jump off the balcony. She said it was Miss Never who told her to!] The homeroom teacher panicked and denied it at once, insisting there was no such person as Miss Never at the kindergarten. She even posted the official teaching schedule in the chat to prove it. On the security footage, there was not a single trace of this so-called Miss Never. However, later, my son whispered to me in secret, “Mom, Miss Never is an old lady with a cat’s face.” “She says only kids can see her.”

My husband, who was a drug enforcement police officer, personally got me into rehab. My son was cheering on the side, saying that he no longer had to see me under the influence for a long time. After I was discharged, I discovered my husband moved in with his lover and our son. I begged him to come back and told him that someone would kill me. He did not believe me. Instead, he said coldly, “If you die, you better end up in a trash can. Otherwise, I’d have to deal with your body.” My son cheered at the side. “Mommy is finally gone!” After a week, I was dismembered. My body parts were found in multiple trash cans. He was the police in charge of the case.

I'm on track to be a top student, but I end up taking the SAT twice. The first time, I score high enough to get into Westbridge University. The second time, my score qualifies me for Northfield University. Each time, I score over 1500. Yet when the admissions teams see my name, not a single school admits me. At first, I think it must be some kind of background check, certain they've found something in my record. But my parents are honest, hardworking people. They've never broken the law. They wouldn't even harm a fly. So I try a third time. My SAT score is 1580, and my GPA is still perfect. This time, I apply to Crestwood University, thinking I finally have it in the bag. The Crestwood University admissions officer arrives full of cheer, but the moment he sees my name, he freezes, immediately realizing there is no way I will be accepted. I rack my brain, trying to figure out what is wrong with my name. Why does seeing it make every school hesitate, even though my scores are perfect?