From my hiding spot outside the shop, I watched Stephen drift into his thoughts. Seraphina leaned toward him and offered a spoonful of mint ice cream with a playful smile.

“You’re so quiet all of a sudden,” she said softly. “What’s on your mind?”

He blinked as if waking from a dream, then gestured toward the narrow alley beside the old elm tree outside.

“Do you remember what happened there?” he asked.

My fingers curled as a chill ran through me. He had always been reckless when he was younger — too fast, too fearless, convinced luck would always be on his side. One afternoon, he was sprinting down that alley when a car skidded wildly around the corner. Tires screamed against the pavement. He froze, terror locking his body in place. Without thinking, I threw myself forward and shoved him aside. The crash scraped my arms until they burned, the echo of metal slamming metal ringing in my ears.

I stayed with him until the ambulance arrived, gripping his hand, whispering to keep him awake. But that same afternoon, my grandmother collapsed at home. I had to leave the hospital to care for her.

When I came back later, hoping to see him again, I stopped short outside his room. Seraphina’s voice drifted out from inside.

“I’m the one who saved you,” she said sweetly. “If I hadn’t pushed you, you wouldn’t be here today.”

Stephen thanked her, his eyes full of gratitude.

My legs went weak. I didn’t have the strength to step in, to fight for the truth. I walked away, hollow and shaking.

From that moment on, the memory belonged to Seraphina. And I — the girl who had thrown herself in front of danger — vanished from his story.

---

I returned home as if nothing had happened.

Over the following week, I buried myself in work. I transferred all my personal assets to establish a charity foundation, personally organized the staff, attended every event, and stood before cameras pretending I was fine. My body, however, was giving up. One afternoon I collapsed right in the office.

Stephen rushed to my side, wanting to send me straight to the hospital, but I stopped him. The doctor brushed it off, saying it was expected in my condition and that I’d recover once the surgery was done.

He clasped my hand like I might shatter at any moment.

“I haven’t been around enough lately,” he said. “After your operation, I’ll drop everything. I’ll be with you all the time. I promise I’ll be early for the foundation ceremony tomorrow.”

I studied him — the unfamiliar strands of hair brushing his collar, the crisp white shirt, every detail suddenly foreign. I nodded. Deep down, I already knew it didn’t matter anymore.

The next day, I forced my aching body into my gown for what felt like the last time. I stood on the stage with the ribbon poised while applause thundered around me.

Then a scream cut through the noise.

The crowd split apart. A pregnant woman was sitting on the floor, hands gripping her stomach. She raised her head.

Seraphina.

My scalp prickled. She had hidden for five years, avoided me like a ghost. Now she was kneeling in the open, blood trickling from her forehead.

“I’m sorry, Amelia,” she cried. “I never meant to disappear. They threatened to kill me if I testified. I’ve lived with guilt every day since. If Mr. Holt hadn’t protected me, I don’t even know if I’d still be alive after what happened to your parents. I’m not asking you to forgive me… I just want the chance to make things right.”

Cameras flashed wildly. Reporters shoved microphones toward Stephen.

“She claims you sheltered her. What do you have to say, Mr. Holt? Are those your children?”

His expression hardened. He ignored them, ordered his guards to clear the hall. Soon, only Seraphina and I were left.

He instinctively leaned toward her, as if to lift her up — then hesitated and withdrew his hand. When he turned to me, reproach cut through his eyes.

“Addy, why did you let her kneel like that?”

I looked at Seraphina calmly.

“You’ve been in hiding for five years. Why come out now?”

She trembled. “I heard about your foundation. Everyone started looking for me. I’m exhausted, barely surviving. Please, Amelia… spare the babies. They don’t even have a father. I’ll make up for everything — I’ll be your servant, your slave, anything.”

I swallowed, staring at her swollen belly, at the children that had rewritten my entire life. Lies, betrayal, my broken marriage — it all rested in that moment.

Later, slumped against the leather seat in the back of the car, I tried to steady my breathing. My chest burned, my limbs throbbed, but I couldn’t fall apart yet.

Stephen’s words replayed in my head.

“Addy, I investigated everything. It wasn’t her fault. She was young, taken advantage of. She’s suffered for five years. Let go of your hatred and move forward.”

Move forward? How could I, when she had destroyed my family, slept with my husband, ruined the foundation I poured myself into, and now demanded mercy?

I straightened, forced my back rigid, and left the banquet hall alone.

Only when the car door shut did I crumble. Tears slid silently down my face as I pictured Stephen bending over Seraphina, wiping her blood away as though I had never been there.

My phone rang.

“You fake saint,” a shrill voice screamed. “Your filthy money won’t save you. Your parents deserved to die! Making a pregnant woman kneel? You’ll pay for this. Everyone knows what a bully you were. You should’ve died too!”

I hung up — but the attacks kept coming. Messages flooded in until the driver passed me my phone. The headlines were everywhere: Amelia Malonzo humiliates pregnant woman. Malonzo parents exposed as frauds. Former classmates reveal Amelia’s cruelty.

My fingers went numb as I tried to type a response. The comment disappeared the moment I sent it.

The driver spoke urgently.

“Madam, more than ten cars are tailing us. No license plates. The men are carrying iron rods.”

I twisted around. In the rearview mirror, masked figures were closing in, weapons raised.

Heart racing, I dialed Stephen, watching them draw nearer with every second.

At the very same moment, in another part of the city, Stephen was staring at the same headlines flooding the internet. His brows drew together as he phoned his assistant, ordering them to suppress the rumors as quickly as possible. Seraphina leaned into his chest, her tears soaking into his sleeve, while his hand closed firmly around her shoulder, that familiar dangerous calm settling over him.

“Tell me straight — is anything they’re saying online actually true?” His tone was low, edged like a blade.

Seraphina pressed her face into him, trembling.

“Stephen, please… don’t dwell on it. What’s done is done. Don’t blame Amelia. She never meant any harm. She’s the reason I’m still alive today. If she told me to die, I wouldn’t even hesitate.”

His arms tightened around her.

And then—

The impact came without warning.

The car spun violently, metal screaming as it overturned. My body was slammed sideways, breath crushed out of me. Before I could even scream, the door was torn open and I was dragged out by rough hands, my body crashing hard against the asphalt.

I tried to crawl away, but a boot drove into my back, pinning me down.

“Ever wonder how it feels when your luck finally runs out?” a man mocked. “You’ve lived a charmed life, hurting people and getting away with it. Tonight you’re going to learn what real pain is.”

“I didn’t—” The words barely left my lips before a slap sent my head snapping sideways. Blood filled my mouth. The world tilted.

They bound my wrists to the back of the vehicle. The engine roared, and suddenly I was being dragged along the road. Stones ripped into my skin, my clothes shredded, my already failing body screaming in agony. I tried to cry out, but my throat was torn raw, the sound nothing more than air. My arms felt like they were being ripped from their sockets, my knees scraping until I couldn’t tell where the pain ended. Inside the car, they laughed and filmed everything like entertainment.

I don’t know how long it lasted. My awareness slipped in and out until I was no longer sure if I was alive. When the car finally stopped, they cut me loose and dumped me like trash on the roadside.

When I regained consciousness, silence wrapped around me.

Gravestones glittered faintly beneath the moon. I should have been terrified, but after what I’d just endured, even the dead seemed kinder than the living. Shaking, I dragged myself toward the highway.

At dawn, my strength vanished completely and I collapsed at the edge of the road.

“Can you hear me? Where does it hurt?”

I opened my eyes to a nurse adjusting my drip. Every breath felt like knives.

“You were rushed in as an emergency case. We’ve been unable to contact any family members. We still need to process your admission and payments and keep monitoring you—”

“I understand,” I whispered, interrupting her. I pulled the gown tighter over my wounds, hiding the truth beneath fabric.

She offered me a wheelchair. I refused. Walking out of the ward was like stepping on shattered glass, but I left anyway. No one came for me that night. Stephen never even called.

I remembered the day I’d learned about my heart disease, kneeling alone at my parents’ graves for hours. Back then, the internet had exploded with rumors about my disappearance. When Stephen finally found me, he’d cried into my shoulder. Now I wondered — had any of that been real?

His eyes no longer held room for me.

I stood in the hospital payment line in silence when a familiar voice froze my blood.

“Stephen, don’t worry so much. I’m fine,” Seraphina said gently, almost playfully.

I didn’t turn around. Out of everywhere in the world, she was here.

Stephen replied, his voice soft yet stern.

“The doctor said there are signs of possible miscarriage. You have to be more careful.”

She cut in quickly. “I know. And Amelia… yesterday was my fault. I was careless.”

My fists clenched until they hurt. I turned to leave — and met Stephen’s stunned stare.

“Amelia?”

The surprise vanished, replaced by anger. Seraphina hid behind him, shaking.

“Please don’t frighten me anymore,” she pleaded. “I didn’t do anything online. I’m in my final months. The doctor said I can’t handle stress.”

“Once the babies are born, you can punish me however you want. I’ll accept it.”

Stephen stepped squarely between us, his face ice-cold.

“She nearly lost the children because of you yesterday. I’m here to make her answer for that.”

I wanted to scream, to rip open my clothes and show him every wound. But the revulsion in his eyes stole my voice.

Seraphina doubled over suddenly. “Stephen… my stomach… it hurts.”

Without hesitation, he swept her into his arms and rushed toward the doctor’s wing. His shoulder slammed into mine, sending me sprawling across the marble. He didn’t look back once.

I stayed there for a long time, watching them disappear. When I finally stood, numb and shaking, I rejoined the line. I had nowhere else to go.

When my turn came, I signed the discharge form silently. The nurse glanced at my chart, worry darkening her face.

“If you leave like this,” she said gently, “you might not survive the next few days. Three at most. Your condition has deteriorated badly.”

I almost laughed when she said it. Three days. That was plenty of time. Living even one more felt unbearable. I didn’t bother replying — I simply turned and walked away, leaving her warning echoing uselessly behind me.

The moment I stepped outside the hospital, I phoned the funeral service. My tone was calm, disturbingly steady.

“Please arrange everything for three days from now.”

Three days. Maybe then I’d finally be reunited with my parents and my grandfather. Maybe I could meet them looking the way I chose, not as Stephen’s wife, not as anyone’s burden — just me.

I stopped by the cemetery one final time, murmured my farewells, then took a cab to the mall. I drifted through one luxury boutique after another without interest.

For years I’d been trained to behave like Mrs. Holt — to dress according to Stephen’s image, to wear jewels that screamed wealth, to appear flawless and distant. Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten what I personally liked. Stephen never asked. He just bought the latest collections every season and stuffed my wardrobe full, promising that besides the stars in the sky, I could have anything.

All I ever wanted was something real.

That was when I saw it — a simple white dress. Clean lines, no excess, just a slender silver trim at the waist catching the light. I pictured myself wearing it, walking into the waves, holding my parents’ and Grandpa’s hands. My lips curved into a faint smile.

“This one,” I said. “I’ll take it.”

Before my card even reached the counter, the dress was ripped from my fingers. I grabbed the edge of the display table to steady myself.

“I’ve already decided to buy that,” I said, my voice unsteady.

I looked up — and there she was.

Seraphina.

She stood tall in front of me, gripping the fabric, her posture arrogant, her eyes blazing. The timid girl I once knew was gone.

The sales assistant leaned toward her nervously.

“This is the last piece we have. The lady here selected it first. I can check with another branch—”

Seraphina laughed scornfully. “You must be joking.” Then she turned her glare on me. “You honestly think you’re still in my league? Who gave you the right?”

I didn’t answer right away. I’d known this moment would come. She hated me. She wanted me crushed.

“Seraphina,” I said carefully, “I don’t recall ever mistreating you. My mother paid for your education and hired you into the company. What exactly did we do wrong — hurt your pride?”

She burst out laughing, harsh and bitter.

“Your mother threw money at me like leftovers for a beggar and expected gratitude. But why should I be grateful? Why are you always the princess while I crawl in your shadow? You were born with everything, and I was born to suffer. You owe me your whole life.”

My chest tightened.

“So you destroyed my parents… just to bring me down?”

Her smile sharpened into something vicious. She leaned close enough for me to feel her breath.

“The fraud scandal? I designed it myself. Your parents trusted me and handed over the company seal. Your husband, your wealth, your reputation — they’ll all belong to me soon. And you? You’ll be remembered as the bully, the criminal’s daughter. Welcome to my world.”

I felt my body stiffen, rage and disbelief crashing through me, but I refused to look away. This was the truth behind five years of betrayal. I would not let her see me break.

“You will pay for this,” I said, my voice low and steady.

She hesitated — only for a heartbeat — then suddenly flung herself to the floor, screaming.

“Stop! I don’t want this! Amelia, please don’t hit me!”

Before I could react, Stephen appeared at the shop entrance. Seraphina immediately curled into a trembling heap, tears streaking her face.

“Stephen, I just slipped, okay? It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t push me. She even brought me here to buy clothes. But people keep saying I hurt her and that her parents died because of me. I didn’t do any of that. Please explain for me.”

His eyes locked onto me — frozen, merciless.

“What did you do to her this time?” he asked coldly.

I already knew he wouldn’t believe me. He never had. I turned away, trying to hide the tears sliding down my face.

A crowd began to gather. Phones were raised. Whispers turned into accusations.

“Isn’t she the one who forced a pregnant woman to kneel?”

“She bullied people at school too — vicious!”

“If something happens, that’s three lives gone!”

Seraphina clutched Stephen and spoke hurriedly, pretending concern.

“She’s just having a bad day. When she’s calm, Amelia is really kind to me.”

A woman suddenly lunged forward from the crowd, pointing at me.

“My daughter died because of people like you! Bullies deserve—”

A drink flew at my face before she could finish. Milk tea splattered across my cheeks, dripping down my chin. I tried to speak, to defend myself, but my voice vanished beneath the shouting.

Objects began to rain down on me. I tensed instinctively, bracing for the blows. Seraphina, of course, was sheltered in Stephen’s arms.

“Come,” he said, pulling her away without once looking back at me.

I was left behind.

Hands shoved me down. Feet struck me again and again. Pain exploded through every inch of my body.

“Kill her!”

“Make her pay for bullying!”

I curled into myself, covering my head, whispering over and over through broken sobs,

“I didn’t… I didn’t…”