Emotional

The day I decided to donate my body to science, my family gathered around my adopted sister, Hailey, celebrating her acceptance into a cutting-edge experimental treatment program. The one with brain cancer was supposed to be me. But Hailey used my husband Zane's position at the hospital to swap her healthy medical records with my terminal diagnosis, stealing the one chance I had to survive. And the worst part? Everyone cheered her on. The pain became too much. I fought to stay present, only to overhear the nurses whispering, "It's a good thing Dr. Zane secured that spot for Hailey. They said she only had three days left." So, in the last 72 hours of my life, I quietly let go of everything. When I gave Hailey the original manuscripts of my novels I had poured my heart and soul into, my father and brother gave me a satisfied smile. When Zane decided to grant Hailey her dying wish by marrying her, he handed me the divorce papers. I signed without a moment's hesitation. He sighed and praised me for finally being "so reasonable." And when I was the one who coaxed our daughter, Olivia, into calling Hailey "Mommy," Olivia gushed that her new mom was the best. "Don't worry," Zane soothed. "We're just keeping it safe for now. Once she's gone, it'll all come back to you." I gave Hailey everything I had, just like they wanted. So why, when they find out this was all Hailey's vicious lie, do they come crying, saying I'm the one they wanted all along?

It was the holiday season, so I took my foster daughter, Megan Delgado, to our mansion for a vacation. However, I found out that the property had been occupied by someone else. The woman who opened the door looked at us with an impatient expression. “What do you want? You’re interrupting my daughter’s birthday party. Are you asking for trouble?” For a moment, I thought I might have the wrong house. That was until I noticed the clothing and jewelry the woman was wearing. Every piece was an exact match with what I kept in my wardrobe here. The timing could not be more telling. Just a week ago, my husband, Richie Delgado, said he was planning a surprise for me and Megan. He asked for the spare key to the mansion. I glanced past her at the crowd of party guests in the living room. “So, you’re saying you’re the lady of the house?” She sized me up and noted my simple outfit. “Who else if not me? You? You’ve ruined my daughter’s party. You’d better beg for her forgiveness now!” she said in a condescending tone. When I did not move, she warned, “My husband will be home any minute now. Do you know who he is? He’s the CEO of Beran Corp! A nobody like you can’t afford to cross him!” They were using my mansion to throw a birthday party for his illegitimate daughter. It was quite the surprise indeed!

My older sister Katie said she missed me and requested I visit her. The second day at her place, the apocalyptic heatwave arrived. I fought tooth and nail in the supermarket for food and coolant—she told me I'm shameless and have no self-respect. I offered a high price in the community chat for supplies—she sneered at me and said that anything stored for so long must be disgusting, contaminated by bacteria. Yet, she threw herself into the arms of the man living across the hallway just for a bit of food. While cuddled in his arms, she watched me die in the heatwave. When I opened my eyes again, I heard her on the phone saying she missed me. Well, keep on missing me!

I'm undressed and bound to a testing table when my family comes to pick me up. A thick, sharp needle pierces into my neck. A drug is administered into my blood, and the pain almost makes me lose consciousness. Behind me, I can feel a man's cold hands stroking my skin amorously. Before me, several people are staring at me. They point at me and treat me like an educational instrument. I tremble in fear and curl up on the testing table in pain. Three years ago, my brother sent me to Mykorra's war zone to stand up for Yvette Sanders. Those were the three most insulting and torturous years of my life. They burned away my hope for kinship but not my desire for survival. As the hands roam lower on my body, I bite my lip so hard that I almost draw blood. As the hands start to go overboard, someone knocks on the door. "Wendy Sanders, your brother is here for you."

I head to a real estate sales office with my fiancée to purchase a marital home, where we meet a two-faced realtor. He starts off by complimenting my fiancée for everything she's achieved at her young age, especially since she can afford to drive a Rolls-Royce. Then, he hints that I'm wearing a fake watch and pretending to be rich so that I can live off her money and get a house without paying a cent. When he learns that we're buying our marital home, he raises his voice and says to me, "I think the sugar mommy who bought you two houses the last time was pretty nice. Oh, wait—I forgot that you have more than one sugar mommy, Mr. Bellway. Do they know of one another's existences?" I smile. My so-called sugar mommy is my actual godmother, but there's no denying that she's rich. Unfortunately for this realtor, my fiancée is nothing but a poor student whom I sponsored back in the day!

My twin sister, wanting to be with her thug boyfriend, secretly planned to apply for a junior college. When I could not talk her out of it, I told our parents and managed to stop her. However, just a month into the new semester, her thug boyfriend cheated on her. She left a suicide note, blaming it all on the long distance between them. She wrote that if she had gone to that junior college, her boyfriend would never have cheated. Grief‑stricken, my parents turned all their rage on me. "You wretched girl, this is all your fault for meddling! What business was it of yours which school your sister went to? Even if she didn't go to college, we could still support her. We didn't need your big mouth!" "If it weren't for your spiteful tongue, your sister wouldn't be dead!" "We were cursed to have a vicious, unfilial daughter like you!" They locked me in her room, ordering me to repent. Then they took her ashes on a trip, saying they wanted her to see the beautiful mountains and rivers she never got to visit in life. A month later, they returned from their travels to find me long dead, starved to a withered husk in front of my sister's photo. Their eyes held no grief, no guilt, only a faint, scornful curl of the lips. In their eyes, my death was nothing more than justice served. My broken soul saw their icy expressions, and despairing tears burned my eyes. Then my sister's familiar voice rang out again: "What business is it of yours which school I go to? You're just jealous that I have a boyfriend, aren't you?"

Two years ago, my mother forced me to break up with my boyfriend so I could take my sister's place and marry her blind fiancé. Two years later, my blind husband regains his vision. Then, my mother demands I return him to my sister. My father glares at me. "Don't forget that Ethan was Rosie's fiancé from the start! Do you think you're worthy of being his wife?" I'm about to die, anyway. Rosalie can have the position of being Mrs. Sadler if she wants! I'll wait to see karma after my death!

My father-in-law tossed a credit card across the table and looked down at me, demanding that I divorce his daughter. In my past life, I had refused with everything I had. But this time, I picked up the pen and signed the divorce papers without a second thought. Because right then, I remembered what had happened last time. In that life, I found my wife after she had lost her memory. To support her, I worked myself to the bone, delivering 200 food orders a day. But when her memories came back, she realized she was actually the daughter of the wealthy Harretts. She saw our marriage as a stain on her perfect life. To get rid of me, she pretended to have amnesia again. She said, "Since you saved me once, I'll give you some money. But after this, don't ever show up in front of me again." I refused. I stayed by her side, enduring her insults and beatings. But in the end, she ordered our son to set the fire that killed me, just so she could marry her first love. Now that I had been given another chance, I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.

As she had wished, I succumbed to sickness in that rented apartment. Fortunately for me, I woke up again to the day I first sponsored Janice.

The laundromat I regularly visit has been showing an odd fluctuation in its price lately. "This coat isn't easy to wash. We're probably the only store that's willing to clean this at a loss. The market price is 55 dollars per item, but I'll give you a discount and only ask for 200 dollars for four items." I look at the boss' mother, who's new at the laundromat. I'm a little pissed. Still, I hand her my membership card without saying anything. This laundromat is opposite my residential area, and they had a promotion during their opening. I topped up ten thousand dollars on the card because I pitied the owner for raising a child alone. Unexpectedly, the owner's mother looks at me and says sarcastically, "That dumb membership card means nothing to me—you have to pay me in cash. You youngsters are too lazy to wash your clothes, yet you're more than willing to use your brains for nonsense like this. My son is too kind to let you take advantage of him like this." I grab my clothes and leave. It's time to use my brain for some nonsense—I think the laundromat should have a new owner.