Emotional

My best friend Sophie and I went into labor the very same night. I watched her switch out the two infants with my own eyes, but I did not tell a single soul. For the next decade, I fed, clothed, and raised a daughter that was not mine. On the day the two girls turned eighteen, they received their college offer letters at the same time. One got into an ivy league school, and the other, a community college whose name I had not even heard of. I had never seen Sophie so happy in my entire life. Grinning from ear to ear, she whipped out the DNA report she had been saving for this very moment. "Thank you for raising my daughter to be the valedictorian that she is today. It's time she returns to her mama. As for this good-for-nothing scum… You can take her back!" I sneered. "Very well then." She had no idea what was coming.

Yvette Skye has been diagnosed with depression. She thinks her parents will understand her situation, but all she gets is boundless mockery and doubt. After her affair with her sister’s boyfriend is found out, she dies in an accident. After her death, her biased parents suddenly start to regret their actions.

My cousin, Monica Newman, turned down a blind date with a rich guy and insisted on marrying a broke kid instead. She begged me to steal her papers from my aunt so that she could get her way, yet two years after the wedding, she ended up killing me. She said it was all my fault that she had married an average guy and spent every day stressing about money. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the same day Monica was to meet that rich guy for the blind date. This time, I told her, "How do you know he's wrong for you if you won't even give him a try?" Since she blamed me for ruining her dream of marrying into money in my last life, this time, I would give her exactly what she wanted.

My wife's gym is celebrating its grand opening, and I drag my buddy along to check the place out with a 9.90-dollar trial class I bought through an e-commerce platform. For the entire time, I never once let it slip that I'm the owner. Right after we finish training, a male coach tosses a price sheet at us. His eyes sweep over us with contempt as he says, "You two look like freeloaders. Our private sessions cost a few hundred each, and we don't offer freebies to people like you." I let out a disbelieving laugh. "We paid for this trial class. How is that freeloading? Go get your manager." He rolls his eyes and makes it seem like he's enforcing a very important rule. "Don't bother looking for the manager. My girlfriend owns this place, and she hates broke losers who try to get free classes." He dials her number right in front of us. His voice sounds both arrogant and pitiful. "Babe, two guys showed up and tried to con us into giving them a free class. They even told me to call the manager. Come over here and show them what's what!"

I happened to come across the filming of a popular variety show, where a celebrity attempted to forcefully take over my greenhouse for a task. After I declined, people watching the live stream subjected me to continuous ridicule.In their relentless quest for higher ratings, the production team deliberately hyped up this matter like crazy.However, when my true identity was revealed, countless students from the Agricultural Academy rallied to defend these crops."Isn't she the expert in crop improvement for saline-alkali soil? My research thesis revolves around her remarkable achievements!""Anyone who dares to tamper with her crops will face dire consequences."

After joining the nation's top research lab as a sophomore, everyone assumes I've taken shortcuts to get there. Mom throws away the handmade gift I had spent days crafting and says with disdain, "I don't have a daughter who's this shameless." Andreas Fitzgerald, my fiance, doesn't hold back, either. He warns coldly, "Remember your place as Mrs. Fitzgerald." Later, when my younger sister, Elaine Wilde, destroys my left hand, they all pressure me to drop the matter. I wake up in the hospital, pain crawling up my arm, and I know exactly what I have to do. Without hesitation, I dial my mentor, George Landon's, number. "I'm ready to join the classified national rocket program."

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?

My brother-in-law, Benjamin Fallow, got trapped in a deep pit, so I grabbed some ropes and risked my life to climb down and pull him out. Just after I tied the rope around his waist, the line went slack and we both came crashing down. When I looked up, I couldn't believe my eyes. My wife, Celeste Fallow, had cut the rope. Meanwhile, her childhood friend, Vincent Jameson, grinned and egged her on. "Do it." Black-clad bodyguards started shoveling sand into the hole, trying to bury us alive. I grabbed the walkie-talkie and screamed up at her, "Celeste, your brother and I are still down here!" She sneered back. "Three years ago, during the quake, you left Vincent's brother trapped under the rubble for five days while you saved others. Now it's time to pay what you owe." Vincent shed crocodile tears and crowed, "Celeste, thanks to you, my brother's revenge is finally complete." With the sand already up to our ankles, I shouted at the top of my lungs, "Celeste Fallow, your brother is really down here with me!"

While inspecting the hotel owned by my family, I start to feel hungry after ordering some food at the hotel restaurant. Before the food is served, I munch on a small piece of bread roll for the time being. Suddenly, the lobby manager comes up to me and hands me a piece of paper. "Hello, sir. We do not allow outside food here. It has been 8 minutes and 30 seconds since you entered our restaurant. The total cost of your meal is 1,500 dollars. You'll be fined 1.28 million dollars." I am briefly stunned as I look at the piece of paper detailing the amount I should pay. Then, I take a picture of the piece of paper and send it to the group chat that has all the members of the board of directors. I tag my elder sister in the next message I send. "I've received a fine at the hotel owned by my family. Is this how you've increased the hotel's revenue?"

Over the Fourth of July weekend, I took my boyfriend's sister to his flashy new influencer hub. Fresh off brain surgery, Benedetta Griffin needed a break from her recovery, and I hoped the trip would lift her spirits. In the hub, a streamer was hawking a face cream like a carnival barker. "Listen, fam! The boss lady is slashing prices. Get this $3,800 cream for just $398 today!" Benedetta tugged my sleeve. "That cream is bad news." She'd interned at the FDA last summer and could spot a scam from a mile away. "It's packed with steroids. Long-term use will ruin your skin." Driven by her sense of justice, she marched up to the streamer. "You can't sell this unlicensed junk. The steroids exceed legal limits. Pull it from the shelves." Morgan Lamb froze, but then her fake smile twisted into a scowl. "Who the hell are you to trash my product?" Benedetta didn't back down. "You're scamming people, and you know it." Morgan planted her hands on her hips. "I'm the boss lady here. How dare you slander my brand? Nobody leaves until you cough up $500,000 for damages." "Boss lady?" My stomach churned. My boyfriend's sudden venture into the streaming industry now made sense. He was sinking money into this hub to bankroll his lover. I fumbled for my phone to call him, but Morgan was faster. "Babe, get to the hub. Two haters crashed the party, trying to tank our business."