This was my forty-ninth suicide attempt in six years.

When I woke up, the doctor told me I had dissociative amnesia. I had forgotten… everything. My name, my past, even who my parents were. My mind was a blank slate.

They said it happens when your brain tries to protect you from too much pain. Funny. It didn’t feel protective. It felt like punishment.

A middle-aged couple sat beside the bed. The moment they saw my eyes open, their expressions hardened.

The woman crossed her arms.

“Oh great. You’re awake again. Aurora, seriously, how long are you planning to keep doing this to everyone? Are you punishing us being your parents?”

Parents.

The man rubbed his forehead. “Do you really think suicide will make Manuel come back to you?” he sneered. “Because it won’t. It never has.”

My chest felt tight, but I didn’t know why.

“You know Manuel never wanted you in the first place. He liked Amber. Everyone knows that. If he hadn’t been drunk that night and walked into the wrong hotel room, none of this would’ve happened. He would’ve married Amber like he planned.”

I blinked at her.

My mom let out a frustrated laugh. “You honestly thought he’d fall in love with you after that? Of course he doesn’t come home. Of course he doesn’t want to see you.”

“And all these suicide attempts?” My dad added quietly, but it didn’t sound kind at all. “Forty-nine times now, Aurora. Tell me something. Has Manuel ever come to the hospital even once?”

Silence filled the room.

Apparently the answer was no.

“You keep hurting yourself just to get his attention, but he’s never shown up. Not once. Don’t you see how pathetic this looks?”

“If you weren’t our biological daughter, we wouldn’t even bother coming here anymore.”

My heart dropped for reasons I couldn’t explain.

He looked at me again and said, “Honestly, Aurora, you’ve never been even half as good as Amber.”

Amber.

Another name I didn’t recognize.

I stayed quiet, just listening, because I had nothing else to hold on to.

Little by little, their complaints pieced together the story of a life that was supposed to be mine.

I was the real daughter of the Moore family.

But when I was a kid, I’d been kidnapped and lost for years.

By the time they found me again, they had already adopted another girl.

Amber Moore.

And apparently everyone loved her more.

The place that was supposed to be mine had already been taken.

Later, I fell in love with a man named Manuel Davenport. Some powerful CEO or something like that.

But Manuel loved Amber too.

Then one night there was a banquet. He got drunk. He walked into the wrong room.

My room.

And everything changed after that.

They slept together. One night. A mistake.

After that scandal, he had no choice but to marry me. But according to my parents, he hated every second of it.

He stayed away. He barely came home. And when he did, it was with nothing but cold looks and disgust.

No love from my parents.

No love from my husband.

And the girl I was before this apparently couldn’t take it anymore.

So she kept trying to die.

My mother suddenly stood up and grabbed her purse. “Alright, we’ve wasted enough time. We all knew you paid that doctor again to fake amnesia. Pathetic.”

My father nodded. “Amber’s waiting at home. We still need to cook dinner.”

She looked down at me like I was some kind of problem she didn’t want to deal with.

“Stay here and think about what you’ve been doing,” she said. “Maybe next time try acting like a normal person instead of pulling these stunts. Useless mutt.”

Then they walked out.

Just like that.

The door clicked shut.

The room went quiet.

A sharp pain spread across my chest, so sudden it made me gasp.

I didn’t remember anything about this life but the sadness inside me felt real. Heavy. Crushing.

Like the whole world had already given up on me.

Why would parents love their adopted daughter more than their real one?

My head hurt when I tried to think about it too much.

I sat there for a long time before slowly getting out of the bed and signed the discharge papers myself.

When I finally stepped outside the hospital, the evening air hit my face.

Cars passed by. People walked around like everything in the world was normal.

I stood there on the steps, holding the thin hospital bag they gave me.

And suddenly a thought hit me.

Where was I supposed to go?

I didn’t remember my parents’ house.I didn’t remember where Manuel lived. I didn’t remember anything.

Things somehow got even worse.

I was still standing outside the hospital entrance, holding that thin plastic bag with my discharge papers, trying to figure out where someone with no memories was supposed to go. Then suddenly people started making noise nearby. Someone gasped, someone else told others to move, and the crowd slowly split apart.

I looked up.

A tall man was walking straight toward the entrance, carrying a woman in his arms.

He moved quickly but carefully, as if the person he was holding was something fragile that could break at any moment. He wore a perfectly fitted black suit, the kind of suit that screamed money and power without trying. His shoulders were straight, his face sharp and handsome enough to make people stare, and there was something heavy in the air around him. The kind of presence that made people instinctively step aside.

But what caught my attention wasn't just him.

It was the way he held the woman.

Her face was pale and pressed against his chest, and his arms tightened around her like he was afraid someone might take her away. Every few steps he glanced down at her with eyes so soft it almost hurt to watch. He even slowed down slightly as he walked, careful not to jostle her.

“Everyone, move!” he said to the crowd and people moved immediately.

Someone behind me whispered in shock, “Wait… that's Manuel Davenport, isn't it?”

Another person answered almost instantly. “Who else would it be? No one else in this city walks around like that. And wow… he's even more handsome up close.”

My chest tightened a little.

Manuel.

So that was him.

My husband. The woman in his arms had to be Amber. The one everyone loved.

The one he loved.

I stood there frozen as he came closer. For a moment our eyes met when he passed by me... He slowed down slightly, almost like he recognized me.

His gaze swept over my face.

Cold.

Sharp.

There was nothing in his eyes except distance. It felt like a blade sliding across my skin.

Then he looked away as if I didn't exist and kept walking straight toward the emergency room, still holding Amber close.

My fingers curled slowly at my sides.

I didn't follow him. I stayed there staring at the ground, trying to think about what I should do next. Go back to parents who clearly didn't want me? Find a husband who couldn't even stand looking at me? What kind of life had I been living before this?

I barely had time to finish that thought when I heard footsteps behind me.

I turned around.

Manuel had come back.

Before I could react, his hand grabbed my wrist. His grip was strong enough to make me frown.

He stared at me for a moment before asking, “You have Rh-negative blood, right?”

I blinked in confusion. “I… I don't know. I just woke up today and I can't remember any—”

He cut me off by pulling me along the hallway.

“Amber was in a car accident,” he said quickly. “She lost a lot of blood and the hospital doesn't have enough of her type right now. They said you might match.”

His voice stayed calm, but there was clear urgency in it.

“Will you donate some blood for her?”

I opened my mouth to answer, still trying to process everything.

“I… I don't even know—”

Suddenly his hand moved to the back of my head.

Before I understood what he was doing, he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine.

The kiss lasted less than a second.

It was cold and empty, almost mechanical.

Then he pulled away and looked at me again with those same distant eyes.

“Is that enough? Can we go donate blood now?”

I just stood there staring at him, my brain still blank from what just happened.

The next thing I knew, a nurse was already guiding me toward the blood collection room.

Everything moved quickly after that. I was placed in a chair, my sleeve rolled up, equipment prepared. Through the door I could hear nurses whispering to each other.

“Isn't that Mrs. Davenport?” one of them murmured.

“Yeah. The one who tried killing herself almost fifty times.”

Another nurse let out a soft laugh. “I heard the first time she tried it was because she wanted President Davenport to kiss her. The second time she begged him to go on a date with her. Then the third time she asked to spend the night with him.”

“And he rejected her every single time,” someone added.

“That's so embarrassing.”

Another voice chimed in quietly. “Well, looks like she finally got her kiss today.”

A small pause followed.

“Too bad it was only because Miss Amber needed blood.”

Someone sighed. “Imagine finally getting what you begged for and realizing it was only for another woman. That's gotta hurt.”

The needle slid into my vein.

It stung.

But the pain felt strangely distant.

Through the glass window beside me, I could see another hospital room down the hall.

Manuel stood beside Amber's bed.

He held her hand carefully in both of his, his long fingers wrapped around hers as if she was something incredibly precious. Then he lowered his head and gently kissed the back of her hand.

That kiss was completely different.

Soft.

Careful.

Full of affection.

I watched them quietly while my blood slowly filled the bag beside me.

Strangely, I didn't feel happy.

But I didn't feel heartbroken either.

Maybe the old Aurora would have cried. Maybe she would have felt like her chest was tearing apart.

But I remembered nothing.

The pain of the needle stayed dull and far away, almost as if there was a thin wall separating me from everything.

I stared at the dark red line moving through the tube and a small thought slipped into my mind.

Was my life really that miserable before?

Did I really beg someone like him for love again and again?

The idea felt strange.

And then another thought came quietly after it.

Maybe losing all my memories wasn't the worst thing that could've happened.

Maybe forgetting everything… was the only mercy God ever gave me.

After they finished taking my blood, I walked out of the room feeling lightheaded. They said it was about 400 cc. My legs felt weak and my vision kept going blurry, like the hallway lights were smearing together.

I leaned against the wall for a while and tried to breathe slowly.

Should I just leave?

But then another problem hit me.

Where was I even supposed to go?

I didn't know my parents' address. I didn't know where Manuel lived. I didn't know anything.

After standing there for a long time, I forced myself to walk down the hall.

Manuel was still outside Amber's room.

I stopped a few feet away from him and spoke carefully. “Manuel… can you tell me our home address?”

He turned to look at me, his brows already pulling together.

I quickly added, “I'll give you something in return. A gift.”

His expression darkened instantly. “A gift? What kind of game are you playing now?”

I shook my head weakly. “It's not a game.”

He let out a short laugh that wasn't amused at all. “Aurora, you've tried killing yourself nearly fifty times. And now you're telling me you forgot where your own house is?”

I swallowed. “I... I lost my memory. The doctor said it's dissociative amnesia.”

He stared at me for a moment, clearly not believing a single word.

Then he said flatly, “The driver is waiting outside. Tell him to take you home.”

That was it.

I nodded slowly. “Okay… thank you.” Then I added quietly, “I'll still prepare the gift.”

His face turned colder. “You don't have to. I'm not interested in anything you give me. Stop trying to please me. It's pointless.”

For a moment I just looked at him. Then I lowered my eyes and gave a tiny smile.

“Are you sure?”

Because this gift…

You are definitely going to notice it.

I didn't say that out loud though.

I walked outside and got into the car.

The driver looked at me through the rearview mirror. “Good afternoon, ma'am. Home?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly.

But before the car even left the hospital parking lot, I pulled out my phone. My contacts list was full of unfamiliar names. I scrolled slowly until one stood out.

Lawyer.

I opened the chat and typed a message.

“Hello. I need your help. I want to divorce my husband and also legally cut ties with my parents. Can you prepare a divorce agreement and a document to terminate the parent-child relationship?”

The reply came almost immediately.

“Of course, Ms. Moore. I'll start drafting the paperwork right away.”

I stared at the message for a few seconds before locking the phone.

Outside the window, buildings and cars rushed past. Everything looked new.

Maybe it actually was.

If I really forgot everything… wasn't that the same as starting over?

“Driver,” I suddenly said.

“Yes, ma'am?”

“Don't go home yet. Can you take me to the immigration office first?”

The driver blinked and glanced at me through the mirror again.

“The immigration office?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I need to process some paperwork.”

He looked confused, but he still nodded. “Alright, ma'am. We'll head there now.”

The ride was quiet after that.

The immigration office wasn't busy and everything went surprisingly smoothly. The staff checked my documents and explained the process.

One of them smiled politely. “Everything looks good, Ms. Moore. Your paperwork should be finished in about half a month.”

When I got back into the car, I hesitated for a second before speaking.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, ma'am.”

“Please don't tell Manuel about today,” I said softly. “About the immigration office.”

The driver's hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel.

After a moment he said carefully, “Ma'am… to be honest, the boss has always told us not to talk about you in front of him.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “He told the staff not to mention you unless it's absolutely necessary.”

I couldn't help letting out a quiet laugh. “So he doesn't even want to hear my name?”

The driver didn't answer.

...

When we arrived at the house, I stepped out and looked up at the large villa in front of me.

The place felt strange. At the same time… it also felt a little familiar.

The furniture looked expensive and elegant. The colors and decorations were exactly the kind of style I liked.

I walked over to the couch and ran my fingers across the embroidered cushions.

Did I decorate all this?

If I did… I must've been excited back then. Maybe I imagined living here happily with Manuel. Maybe I thought marriage meant something.

My eyes landed on the big wedding photo hanging on the wall.

I stepped closer.

In the picture, I was smiling brightly. My eyes were full of love as I looked at the man beside me.

Manuel stood next to me in his suit. His face was handsome. And completely expressionless.

He wasn't even looking at me.

I stared at that photo for a few seconds before shaking my head. Then I turned and walked upstairs.

When I entered the bedroom, my body moved on instinct. I walked straight to the dresser and pulled open one of the drawers.

Something slid out immediately.

A leather notebook fell onto the floor with a soft thud.

I opened the diary and flipped to the first page. The handwriting was messy and crooked, the kind someone wrote while drunk or crying too hard to hold the pen steady.

“First day of marriage with Manuel. He went straight to his study and didn't say a single word to me. It's fine. I'll wait for him.”

My chest tightened a little.

I kept turning the pages.

Each one felt heavier than the last.

“26th suicide attempt today. He still didn't come. My assistant said Amber had a fever so he stayed with her all night. I was in the ER alone listening to the IV drip until morning.”

My fingers trembled.

I forced myself to read the next entry.

“39th time. I took sleeping pills again. When I woke up, I heard Manuel in the hallway on the phone. He sounded annoyed. He said, “Just let her die.” I think that moment hurt more than the attempt itself. Hearing the person you love most wish you were gone.”

My vision blurred for a second.

The next page was even worse.

“49th time. I think I'm done. If this doesn't work either, I'll just disappear somewhere. Nobody in this world actually cares if I exist. Goodbye.”

I shut the diary so fast it made a sharp sound.

My chest felt like something had been torn open inside it. I looked down at my wrists and suddenly noticed the thin pale scars crossing the skin. I hadn't even paid attention to them earlier, but now they burned as if every mark was accusing me.

So this was my life?

I slowly crouched on the floor and hugged my knees, my forehead resting against them. For six years I lived like that. Begging for scraps of attention from a man who didn't even want me alive. What kind of person had I been… how desperate did you have to be to keep doing that, Aurora?

A few tears slipped down before I wiped them away quickly. “It's fine,” I whispered to myself, “It's okay if nobody loves you. You'll be okay.”

I placed the diary back in the drawer and closed it.

Moonlight came through the window and settled on the floor near my feet. I stared at that pale patch of light for a while and muttered quietly, “As long as you don't give up on yourself… you haven't lost everything.”

...

The villa stayed empty for the next few days. Manuel never came back and no one visited. Strangely it didn't feel unbearable. Maybe because I didn't remember loving anyone here. Maybe because there was no one around to hurt me again. I just stayed quietly in the house, waiting for the immigration papers to be finished.

The quiet ended when my phone rang.

It was my mother.

The moment I answered, her cold voice came through. “Amber's birthday banquet is tomorrow night at seven. Enchanted Star Hotel. Don't be late.”

I hesitated. “I don't think I—”

“That's all,” she cut in flatly, and the call ended before I could finish.

I stared at the screen for a moment. She didn't even wait for an answer.

The next evening I picked the simplest black dress I could find and went to the hotel. The banquet hall was huge and bright, filled with people laughing and talking. Amber stood in the center surrounded by guests, smiling sweetly while everyone praised her. Manuel stood nearby, and it was the first time I'd seen him in days.

Two women beside me were whispering.

“Amber really hit the jackpot,” one said quietly. “Her parents adore her and even Manuel Davenport treats her like a princess.”

The other woman nodded. “Of course. I heard he arranged this entire party himself. The champagne was flown in from Italy this morning. One bottle costs six figures. And those flowers came straight from the Netherlands.”

I glanced around the room. The entire hall looked like a fancy garden.

“Apparently the design is based on Morako's garden paintings,” the woman continued. “Amber loves that style. They spent more than fifteen million dollars decorating this place.”

I took a small sip of wine and looked toward Manuel. He wore a black suit tonight, the collar slightly open, the top button undone. He looked relaxed and expensive at the same time. But what caught my attention wasn't the suit. He was crouching beside Amber, carefully adjusting the hem of her dress so it wouldn't drag. His face held a gentle smile I had never seen before.

So he could smile like that.

Just not at me.

The host's voice suddenly echoed across the hall, asking everyone to quiet down. My parents walked onto the stage with Amber between them. My father cleared his throat and looked proudly at the guests before speaking. “Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate Amber's birthday. But we also have some important family news to announce.”

The room fell silent.

He placed a hand on Amber's shoulder and continued calmly, “Starting today, Amber will inherit sixty percent of the shares of Moore Group.”

Gasps and whispers spread through the hall immediately.

I tightened my grip on the wine glass in my hand.

Wow.