Independence Library Apartments

The prettiest girl in our class, Mandy Smith, died unexpectedly in our dorm. When the police took statements, my two other roommates and I pleaded guilty. I took out Mandy’s love letter to my boyfriend. “I killed her because she was seducing my boyfriend.” Anna Anderson took out a purchase history for cyanide. “I killed her because she snatched my overseas studies spot from me.” Fiona Lee took out an expulsion letter. “I killed her because she reported me for cheating.” All three of us hated Mandy. However, the police found that all of us had alibis during Mandy’s time of death. The counselor also asked us to stop lying. However, the three of us sneered. “Whether you believe it or not, one of us is the murderer.”

I catch the eye of a stranger on the bus. Then, I'm lured into his trap…

The first time I shared a bed with a man, it was with my best friend. The next morning, he kissed me secretly and promised to take responsibility for me in the future.

My three-year-old daughter was playing in the room, and she suddenly fell from the window of the room and died. In my past life, I held her lifeless body after learning the news, crying so hard I thought I would never stop. But when my husband rushed back, he slapped me across the face without a second thought. "How could you be so cruel? You actually threw her out of the window—she was only three!" I was too stunned to react. Later, my husband and my best friend teamed up and testified that I had thrown my daughter from the window because I had an argument with my husband. I was cyberbullied and labeled the "evil mom". Amid the public hatred and the pain of losing my daughter, I jumped to prove my innocence. Even in death, I still didn't understand. My daughter had been fine playing in the room—how did she fall out of the window? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she fell.

I took leave to be the maid of honor at my best friend's wedding. The moment I landed, Rachel Wendt showered me with lavish gifts: the newest flagship model smartphone, designer perfume, and other branded gifts. "A little gift for you," Rachel said. "Even though I'm getting married, you're still the most important person in my life!" I was deeply moved. Early the next morning, I got up at dawn, changed into my maid of honor gown, and went to find her. Rachel was having her makeup done. When she saw me, she excitedly waved at me. But the moment I went in closer, her face instantly turned icy. "You tramp! Get the hell out of my wedding!" I froze on the spot.

Three days after giving birth, my husband leaves me alone at home to care for the baby, saying that he needs to leave on an urgent business trip. Three days later, I've just arrived at the hospital when I see a family photo his childhood sweetheart has shared on her social media. It's captioned, "This was taken during a trip. We're a happy family of three." I'm surprised to see my husband grinning in the photo and comment on it with a question mark. He immediately calls me to reprimand me. "Do you know how hard it is for her as a single mother? She doesn't have a man to care for her. All I did was take a photo with her. Do you have to be so petty?" That evening, his childhood sweetheart shares a photo of some monetary gifts. "He insisted on giving me this after taking the family photo." I know my husband gave that to her to pacify her. This time, however, I'm ready to leave him.

The day before Chris Carter and I were supposed to get engaged, my parents sent me to prison. Three years later, when I was finally released, Chris was the only one who came to pick me up. I knew he despised me. I trembled, keeping my head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed. But he blocked my path, frowning. “Emily York? You stink.” He pinched his nose and told me to get in the car. I fell to my knees, desperately begging him not to take me home. If he did, I would die. He looked at me with chilling indifference and said, “Then go ahead and die.” I agreed. But later, he cried and begged me to stay alive.

When the lights came on at the end of the graduation party, the spotlight suddenly shifted and froze on a young couple kissing passionately at the back of the auditorium. The young man held up a bouquet of roses and shouted to the crowd, “Sophie, be my girlfriend!” The moment the girl covered her face and nodded, the cheers in the hall nearly lifted the roof. Amid the thunderous applause, my hand trembled around my phone. The screen still showed the message he had sent half an hour earlier. Rowan: [Wait for me. I’ll come to you right away.] After the party, I took off the couple’s bracelet from my wrist and threw it into the gutter, along with four years of love.

My husband, Gabriel Buckner, and I had been married for three years. I'd gotten pregnant twice, but I'd lost both babies. It was all because of my in-laws' parrot that could talk. The first time I got pregnant and went to their house, the parrot stared at my belly and kept repeating, "Get rid of the baby! Get rid of the baby!" The second time, the same thing happened. It looked right at my stomach and said the same words. I thought it was just nonsense, but to my shock, my in-laws actually took the parrot seriously and forced me to end the pregnancy. I even showed them the prenatal checkup report from my doctor to prove that the baby was perfectly healthy and begged them not to do it. But they dragged me to the hospital anyway and made me have an abortion on the spot. When I got pregnant a third time, I wanted to be extra cautious. I went straight for an amniocentesis. The report confirmed the baby was healthy and even showed a 99.9% DNA match with Gabriel's. I thought everything would be fine this time. But as soon as the parrot saw me again, it repeated the same words—"Get rid of the baby." And just like before, the Buckners immediately tried to drag me to the hospital. I couldn't understand it. The baby was perfectly healthy, and the DNA report proved it was Gabriel's child. So why would they rather believe a parrot and insist that I get rid of the baby?

I've loved Jonathan Pickle for half my life. I used my family's resources to help him attain success. However, in the third year of our marriage, he brought his mistress home to stomp all over my pride. That wasn't the worst of it—he even destroyed my family. … I open my eyes to see Jonathan in his university days. Unexpectedly, I'm not the only person who's been given a second chance at life.