Kindle Family Subscription

We were on our way to celebrate our son’s birthday when we got into a car crash. When I woke up, I looked at my family gathered around my hospital bed and cracked a joke: “Sorry, but who are you guys?” I held back a smile, curious to see how they'd humor their "amnesiac" patient. Would my mother grab my hand in a panic? Would my husband look at me with worry? Would my son rush over, crying and calling me Mom? What I didn't expect was for them to freeze for a moment—and then, almost in unison, let out sighs of relief. My mother was the first to speak, her tone unmistakably lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. "If you don’t remember, it’s probably for the best. This is Lindsay—your sister, she’s my daughter. You were adopted." My husband then pointed at me and said to our son, "You should call her Aunt Wendy." Before the shock could even sink in, I watched the child I'd fought so hard to protect turn and throw himself into the arms of Lindsay. "Mom! I played outside all day. I missed you so much!" So that was the truth. My amnesia was exactly what they'd been hoping for. In that case, I didn't need this made-up life anymore.

My almost 50-year-old mother-in-law has recently gotten a new boyfriend. He's young, handsome, and has washboard abs. Just as I think she's finally hit the jackpot and found her true love, he climbs into my bed in the middle of the night…

When I was in the early stages of brain cancer, my parents begged me to give my sister one of my kidneys. They also told me to give them the money I had saved for my treatment. When my sister left the hospital, it was her birthday. My parents threw her a party while I lay in a hospital bed trying to get better. Later, when my mom found out I had late-stage brain cancer, she begged my sister to give me a kidney. My sister said no. So, on the day of my funeral, my mom buried both of her kidneys with me.

The kindergarten was engulfed in flames. My four-year-old daughter was trapped inside. I pleaded desperately with my firefighter husband, "Nina is upstairs!" He snapped impatiently, "You're just trying to stop me from saving Dana's daughter. How could you be so cruel? Dana is fragile. If she loses her child, it will destroy her. She won't survive this." That night, he emerged from the fire carrying Dana's daughter, instantly becoming a hero. Even at midnight, when I wept by the side of our daughter's ashes, he was still with Dana. "Samuel Leif, you'll pay for this!"

On the day Moon Spencer received the Medal of Honor, she made a public declaration of love on live television to her accompanying military medic, Xavier Quinn. “If it weren’t for Xavier, I’d have died in that storm at sea. He is the most important person in my life.” At the same time, her husband, Nathan Johnson, was lying on his deathbed at home. For years, he had taken care of Moon’s parents and raised their child alone. The strain destroyed his health, and he had little time left. He never expected that after twenty years of sacrifice, he would not even hear a word of thanks from her. What truly broke him was their daughter’s comment. “Dad, don’t you think Dr. Quinn and Mom are perfect together? You should leave sooner and make room for him.” Nathan collapsed in fury and regret. He died that night. When he opened his eyes again, he was back to the night before Moon left for her coastal deployment. This time, he refused to stay behind as the forgotten man who kept everything running. In this life, he would pursue his own dream.

My four-year-old son dies after someone crashes into him with a motorcycle. The culprit is a college freshman who's just been admitted. I'm devastated, but my husband generously forgives her. "We have to give her a chance since she's such an outstanding student. She's still young—we can't ruin her future." Ha. She has plenty of opportunities and a bright future ahead of her. What about my son? He was only four. Later, I rip his letter of forgiveness to pieces before his face. He wants me to forgive the young lady? No way in hell!

My mother gained access to an exchange system the year I turned eighteen. She swapped my college entrance exam scores with my sister, Poppy's. She swapped my high-paying job for Poppy's, too. She even wanted to swap my perfect boyfriend and hand him over to Poppy. However, she had no idea that I had deliberately found him at a wife-killer club. When my boyfriend suddenly fell for Poppy and fell out of love with me, I smiled. I had been waiting for this day for a long time.

When I was young, my uncle and his family had died in a fire to save me, leaving behind only their three-year-old daughter. Thus, she became the most lovable member of our family. Later, she and I were involved in a car accident. As the blood and amniotic fluid mixed together, I clutched my husband's hand and begged him to save me and our children. However, he swatted my hand away and said impatiently, "Don't you realize Alice had hurt her bones?" My mother also scolded me, "Why are you still craving attention at a crucial moment like this? You are so cruel. Do you want Alice to be crippled for the rest of her life?" Just like that, I watched helplessly as they left with all the doctors, leaving me all alone. In the end, I died along with my adorable twin babies. When they heard the news, the ones who despised me most went crazy.

When my stepsister, Kate Lawrence, is poisoned at the full moon ceremony, my father, Jack Blackwood, condemns me at once, convinced that I am the one behind it. He clamps silver chains around me and drags me into the manor's dark underground cell. His eyes burn hatefully as he snarls, "You wretch! How could I have a daughter like you? Rot in here!" I drop to my knees on the cold floor and try to explain, but the sentence he throws over his shoulder as he turns away snuffs out the last of my hope. "Even if she dies in there, no one shall go in! Whoever lets her out will die with her!" The cell severs the mind-link completely, so no one hears me screaming. Seven days later, he finally remembers me, not knowing that I'd already died on the fourth day when the silver burned through to the bone.

On Children's Day, the most popular social media post is about me. The caption is: "Mr. Shane Norton spends his birthday with his son David Norton and his first love, Ruth Feynman. Has he finally decided to divorce Ayla Sanderson?" I quietly press the "like" button. When my phone rings, I'm in the midst of taking down the balloons I put up for our wedding anniversary. "Honey." My husband sounds anxious as he tries to explain himself. "David suddenly insisted that we go to a theme park, so I—" In the background, I hear David laughing. "Dad, Ruthie says that I can sleep with her tonight!" I look at the mess in the house. The balloons are drooping, and the cream on the cake is congealed. "You don't have to explain," I hear myself say. "I understand." It's just that this time, I don't want you or David any longer, Shane.