My fingers tightened around the phone without my meaning them to. I forced myself to stay calm.

As fast as I could, I backed up his WeChat data.

I kept digging, and the absurd part was that he'd even disguised his cloned WeChat app with the icon of a daily-report tool.

I backed that up too, and inside it I found one conversation thread.

The contact was saved as “Baby Lorraine”.

I tapped it open.

【Babe, last night wore me out.】

【That worn-out housewife of yours didn't catch on when you got home, did she?】

【Don't forget to help me pick out maternity dresses today. This weekend's graduation trip, I'm going to show up as Mrs. Whitney no matter what.】

Zane's reply, sent right when he'd gotten home tonight, jumped out at me.

【Relax, I muted all the group messages for her ages ago. She still has no idea there's a graduation trip.】

【That bookworm only ever knew how to bang out code, and after the baby the depression rotted her brain too. Dumb as a post. A few years of being a housewife and she's a piece of cake to fool.】

【I'll bring you and Gabe along, and I'll make sure everyone knows you're the one who's really my wife.】

I stared at the words in silence while my stomach turned over and over.

I looked around at this home.

Back when I'd hemorrhaged giving birth, the postpartum depression had left me wrecked in body and mind.

It was Zane who had knelt at my bedside with red-rimmed eyes, gripping my hand and swearing: “Babe, from now on you don't have to worry about anything. I'll take care of you for the rest of your life. You and our son are my whole world.”

For that one promise, I set aside a software career at its peak, buried the hacking skills I'd been so proud of, and became a homemaker.

I used the annual patent royalties to buy our little family a house and a car,

and I covered every cent of his mother's medical bills, until I turned into a worn-out housewife who'd hesitate for ages just to buy herself a shirt.

But I watched him run around handling every last thing at our son's preschool, all so I could recover from my depression sooner.

I thought I'd married for love.

So it turned out I'd only been freeing up his time to cheat!

The water in the bathroom shut off.

I quickly closed the laptop and dumped the crab-roe buns from the insulated container into the trash.

Zane came out toweling his hair.

“Where are the buns?”

“They got cold. I threw them out.”

He froze for a moment.

“You could've just reheated them. I stood in line forever for those.”

I fixed my eyes on his. “I don't like eating leftovers.”

He looked away from me and turned to pour himself some water.

I gave a cold laugh and went back to the bedroom, then dialed my company's boss.

“Mr. Morton, there's something I need to discuss with you, together with your legal team.”

He wanted to take his mistress and my son on a trip? Then we'd settle every account, old and new, at once.

After the call with Mr. Morton, I opened up the social feed of that account called “Baby Lorraine”.

The latest post had gone up one minute ago.

【Picking up baby after school today and heading straight there. So excited~】

The photo showed three movie tickets.

I scrolled past with a blank face, but inside I couldn't stop shaking.

Four in the afternoon.

I showed up right on time at the gate of Mingde Bilingual International Preschool.

I wanted to see for myself whether that woman really had the nerve to pick up my son in broad daylight.

Back when we moved and switched preschools, Zane had insisted Gabe come here, saying a top-tier preschool would build connections.

And it was always him, adamant that he be the one to handle drop-off and pickup.

With school almost out, the children were tidying up their classroom.

I walked over to the homeroom teacher, Florence Finch.

“Teacher Finch, hello. I'm Gabriel Whitney's mother, Sally Swanson.”

Florence lifted her head, looked me up and down, and her brow furrowed.

“Gabe's mother? Ma'am, please don't joke.”

“Gabe's mother, Ms. Fox, comes to pick him up all the time.”

Picks him up all the time?

So this was how Zane let another woman take my place, right out in the open?

“Besides, dressed like that, you'd be the new nanny Mr. Whitney hired back in his hometown, wouldn't you? Mr. Whitney mentioned it to me, said he has a cousin back home who's not quite right in the head and is always mistaking people for someone else……”

She didn't finish the sentence, but the contempt in her eyes was impossible to hide.

I glanced down at the cotton T-shirt I had on.

All these years recovering at home, being a housewife, I really hadn't paid much attention to how I dressed.

“I am Zane's wife.” I put weight behind every word.

Florence rolled her eyes.

“Ma'am, do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“Mr. Whitney told me he has a distant cousin from back home working as a nanny who's always deluded herself into thinking she's his wife.”

“That's you, isn't it?”

The blood in my whole body went cold in an instant.

The half-witted distant cousin? The nanny?

So Zane had been laying the groundwork for a long time, peeling away my identity piece by piece!

“Oh my, and who might this be?”

A honeyed voice rang out behind me. A woman with a rounded belly came walking over, in Chanel couture, an Hermès Birkin on her arm, the Bvlgari necklace Zane had bought around her neck.

The scent of Jo Malone bluebells washed over me.

Lorraine Fox.

“Ms. Fox, you're here.” Florence instantly put on a fawning smile and hurried to greet her.

Lorraine waved a hand, gave me a once-over, and covered her mouth as she laughed.

“Zane's cousin, what are you doing all the way out here?”

“Didn't he tell you to stay home and do the laundry?”

A few of the parents nearby heard the commotion and turned to look, whispering and pointing at me.

“So she really is a nanny who came to sponge off her relatives.”

“Dressed like that, and she still dares to pass herself off as his wife. Talk about a toad lusting after a swan. She's out of her mind.”

I couldn't be bothered to argue. I pulled out my phone and brought up the high-resolution scan of our marriage certificate.

“Take a good look. I'm his lawfully wedded wife.”

Florence froze for a beat.

Lorraine's face changed, and her hand shot out. With a sharp crack, she knocked the phone right out of my grip.

The screen shattered on impact.

"Waving around a fake ID to fool people here?" Lorraine sneered.

"You're just after my Zane, aren't you? Does clinging to a married man really amuse you?"

She raised her voice. "Where's security? Get this madwoman out of here, now."

Two burly guards rushed over at once, seized me by the arms, and hauled me up without a word.

"What do you think you're doing!"

The furious shout came with Zane jogging up, out of breath.

I thought that at the very least he'd care about saving face.

But Zane walked straight past me, pulled Lorraine behind him to shield her, and glared.

"Sally, what are you doing here!"

The guards had my arms wrenched behind my back. I stared him down. "Isn't it obvious? I came to pick up Gabe after school."

I watched him stand there guarding Lorraine.

"Go ahead and explain. What's she to you?"

His eyes darted away, then he straightened his spine and put on an apologetic smile for Florence.

"Teacher Finch, I'm so sorry about this."

"My cousin here isn't quite right in the head. I'll take her away right now."

I was shaking with rage.

"Zane, say it again. Who am I?!"

Zane stepped closer, dropped his voice, teeth clenched.

"Sally, if you're set on making a scene, don't blame me for playing rough!"

"Lorraine's carrying a boy too, and my mother says she has to be made legitimate."

"Gabe's going to move in these elite circles from now on. You want his classmates laughing at him for having a crazy woman for a mother?"

I looked at him like I was looking at a total stranger.

Crazy mother? The postpartum depression I had was only because of him and our child!

And he, for the sake of one mistress, for the sake of so-called face, wanted to grind me under his heel and crush me into the dirt!

Zane's voice rose, deliberately loud enough for everyone around to hear.

"Sally, I'm giving you a roof and a meal out of family loyalty, so don't be so ungrateful!"

Lorraine leaned into Zane's arms, playing the part. "Honey, don't be angry, it's not worth ruining your health over."

"Sally's pitiful too. Let's just think of it as a good deed."

The parents around us chimed in. "Mr. and Mrs. Whitney are so kind. A dreadful relative like that, I'd have thrown her out ages ago."

Gabe came running out of the classroom.

"Daddy!" He threw himself into Zane's arms, then turned and saw me pinned by the guards.

"Mom—"

"Gabe!" Zane clapped a hand over his mouth, scooped him up, his eyes cold and grim.

"Call her Aunt Sally."

Gabe froze, his big eyes filled with confusion.

"Daddy, she's Mom."

Zane's face darkened.

"Gabriel Whitney, did you forget what Daddy told you? If you don't behave, that limited-edition Transformer is gone."

Gabe's body went stiff.

He looked at me, then at Zane's fierce face.

Finally, he lowered his head and said it softly.

"Aunt Sally."

In that moment.

I heard the sound of my own heart breaking.

Eight years of marriage, seven years of a mother's bond, the child I'd traded my life to have.

None of it measured up to a plastic toy.

A guard shoved hard, and I hit the ground. The rough asphalt scraped my palms raw, blood seeping out.

But the deeper pain was in my chest.

I drew a long breath and forced the sting behind my eyes back down.

I didn't want to argue anymore.

"Fine."

I stood, brushed the dirt off my hands, and picked up the phone with its shattered screen.

"Zane, Gabriel Whitney, remember what you said today."

I turned and walked out. Behind me came Lorraine's smug laughter and Zane's hollow reassurances.

Laugh all you want. Today's the last day you'll get to.

Back home, I kept sorting through everything that would work in my favor for the divorce, and stopped bothering with anything around the house.

So the next morning, the morning we were supposed to leave on the trip, the living room was still a wreck.

Zane was frantically trying to pack.

"Sally, you're not going to pack for us? What kind of wife are you!"

I stood off to the side and said nothing, watching him clown around.

He barked, impatient. "Don't blame me for this. Look how ugly you've let yourself get these last few years. I'm a department manager now. Is it a crime to want a more presentable wife?"

"Do you get it? Walking around next to you drags me down."

I didn't answer him. I just walked over to my son and crouched down.

"Is that what Gabe thinks too?"

"Of course." Zane smirked, pleased with himself.

"Gabe loves Aunt Lorraine. Lorraine promised to buy him a big mansion."

"Right, son?"

Gabe sat on the couch, the limited-edition Transformer clutched in his arms.

Head down. Silent.

And my heart went cold, inch by inch, all the way to the bottom.

"Do you want to go with Daddy, or with Mommy?"

Gabe looked up, glanced at me, then looked quickly over at Zane.

Zane glared at him.

Gabe shrank back.

"I'll go with Daddy."

I nodded.

Stood up.

"Fine. As long as you won't regret it."

I looked at the two of them, father and son, with cold eyes, like I was looking at two dead men.

Zane thought I'd given up. He gave a cold snort, grabbed Gabe, and slammed the door on his way out.

I watched their car pull out of the complex, then turned back into the study, and with a cold smile hit the enter key on the last line.

The firewall on the central control system at tonight's destination might as well have been made of paper in front of me.

Zane, you wanted to look respectable? Today I'll let you get your fill of "respectable" in front of the entire elite crowd.

I slipped a USB drive into my pocket and headed out to the same place.

Atlanta's most exclusive luxury glamping site. The bonfire party was in full swing.

The moment I arrived, I spotted Zane and Lorraine right in the middle of the crowd.

Lorraine wore an expensive designer maternity gown, holding a glass of alcohol-free champagne, laughing so hard she was practically shaking.

Zane had an arm around Gabriel, playing the picture of a successful man, career made, family perfect.

"Mr. Whitney's really young and accomplished, and your wife's so beautiful too. What a winner in life!" A few of the parents crowded around, showering them with compliments.

I pushed through the crowd and walked toward them, one step at a time.

"She is beautiful. After all, she's kept beautiful on my money, so how could she not be?"

My voice wasn't loud, but every word reached every ear in the place.

Every gaze snapped toward me at once.

The moment Zane saw me, the smile cracked off his face.

"Sally?! How did you follow us all the way out here, you crazy woman!"

Lorraine ducked behind Zane at once, cradling her belly, putting on a show of being scared half to death. "Cousin, will you only be satisfied once you've driven my baby and me to our deaths? I've already given you the position of Mrs. Whitney. Isn't that enough for you?"

The parents around them erupted.

"It's that psycho nanny again?"

"How shameless. She actually followed them all the way here!"

"Call the police! Get security to throw her out, now!"

A few of the site's security guards rushed over and shoved me without ceremony.

I stumbled back a couple of steps, pinned in their grip.

I looked at Zane, cold.

He pointed down at my face from above. "Sally, I left you a shred of dignity, and you'd rather throw it back in my face! If you dare make a scene today, tomorrow I'm having you committed to a psychiatric ward!"

His eyes were pure venom. Gabriel hid against his chest, too scared to even lift his head and look at me.

"Have me committed?" I laughed out loud and stopped struggling.

"If people found out about that, who do you think would be committing whom?"

"April 25th last year, the two of you—"

Zane's face went white. His hand shot up.

The slap was already flying at my face.

"Shut your mouth, you bitch!"

Lorraine shrieked too. "Security, drag her out and give her a beating!"

I didn't dodge. I just looked at him, cold. "Zane, you think I came here today to beg you?"

Right at the razor's edge, his palm about to land, a guard's hand reaching for my hair—

"Screech—"

The music across the whole luxury glamping site cut off dead.

At the same moment, a line of black Maybachs let out an ear-splitting screech of brakes.

The giant projection screen in the center of the site suddenly flickered wildly, and then the image changed.

Every trace of Zane and Lorraine's smugness drained away. In an instant, both went pale.