In my previous life, it was around this time that my admission letter should have arrived. And it was also around now that Ned first brought up the idea of needing money to buy a house.

These past few days, Rachel and I had been playing our roles well—obedient, compliant, just like before, acting as if we couldn't live without the Stark brothers.

So when I offered to go out and buy groceries, they didn't suspect a thing.

Before I left, Robbie smiled, his eyes curved in that gentle arc he was so good at faking.

"Mary, thank you for your hard work. Buy some spinach while you're out. I remember it's your favorite."

Spinach? Not anymore.

Because Scarlett hated spinach, our household hadn't seen a single leaf of it in thirty or forty years in the previous life. Even if I had once loved it, I no longer recognized the taste.

I nodded calmly, but instead of heading to the market, I took a turn and made straight for the school.

Admission letters were always delivered there in bulk. I didn't even need to guess—Robbie would definitely take mine before it ever reached me.

So I made up an excuse about picking something up for him and slipped into his office.

His office was almost bare, save for one object that stood out: a delicate porcelain teacup, far finer than anything else in the room.

I remembered that teacup.

In my previous life, Robbie had treasured it like gold. Even after retirement, he used it every day at home. One afternoon, while mopping, I accidentally knocked it to the floor. He flew into a rage and slapped me across the face.

Hurt and humiliated, I confided in my son, only for him to frown and say that the cup was precious.

Precious? Not because of its make. But because it had been a gift from Scarlett.

Expressionless, I tore my gaze away from the teacup and pulled open his drawer.

My fingers brushed past a stack of love letters he had written to Scarlett, reaching straight for the envelope pressed at the very bottom—the one with my name on it. My admission letter.

I ripped it open without hesitation, tucked the contents into my bag, and grabbed a scrap of paper. Scribbling a few words, I stuffed it back into the empty envelope.

My pulse hammered as I shut the drawer. Without daring to linger, I slipped out.

At the school gates, I sat beneath a tree and waited, nerves buzzing, until finally… I spotted Rachel.

"Rachel! You scared me half to death. I thought you wouldn't make it out!"

Rachel came running, breathless, sweat beading her forehead, and rolled her eyes at me.

"All thanks to that bastard, Ned!" she spat through clenched teeth. "I was afraid he'd notice something amiss. He kept pestering me for money to buy a house. I refused no matter what, but he badgered me for what felt like forever.

"Normally, he's silent as a stone, but when it comes to Scarlett, suddenly he's all fire and devotion."

"After I gave him the passbook, he even promised to buy me a silver bracelet. Mary, you know, in our previous life, I waited until my dying day and never saw that bracelet!"

Because the moment Scarlett laid eyes on it, she had demanded it for herself.

I sighed softly and placed a hand on Rachel's shoulder.

"Don't dwell on it. It's all in the past. Do you have the passbook?"

"Of course I do! This time, if they think they can spend my money, they're dreaming."

Rachel looped her arm through mine. Her eyes, once dulled and lifeless in our last life, now glittered faintly, like stars in the sky.

"Mary," she said with sudden, fierce determination, "let's go. Let's carve out a wider world for ourselves."

The Stark brothers lingered outside their home, rooted at the doorway far longer than usual.

A door that normally yielded with the lightest push now seemed unbearably heavy.

Ned sighed. "Robbie… do you think we've gone too far?"

True, there had never been much real affection between them and Mary or Rachel, but they had married them. For better or worse, they were bound for a lifetime.

A flicker of guilt crossed Robbie's face. Yet when he recalled the look of pure joy on Scarlett's face as she received their gifts, the guilt faded. In its place rose a conviction—it had been worth it.

After all, when they were boys, Scarlett had saved both his and Ned's lives without asking anything in return. She was kind and selfless. She deserved the very best the world had to offer.

"Don't overthink it. At worst, we'll just make it up to them. Mary and Rachel care for us deeply. They'll come around."

His gaze dropped to the fish he carried in one hand. When Mary came back with spinach, he thought, he could make her soup. She was far too thin; she needed nourishing.

The truth was, Robbie wasn't entirely indifferent to Mary. Ever since he'd known the marriage was set, he had accepted that she would be his wife.

He glanced sideways at his younger brother. Ned looked hollow, empty-handed. The bracelet he'd promised Rachel had already been given to Scarlett. No wonder he looked so ashamed.

For some reason, Robbie felt as though he had won. His mood buoyed, he pushed the door open.

But the house was strangely, unnervingly empty.

A closer look confirmed it: neither Mary nor Rachel was anywhere in sight.

Panic prickled his chest. Just then, their mother stumbled back from a poker game, swaying slightly as she walked. Robbie hurried forward.

"Mom, have you seen Mary?"

She blinked in surprise. "Didn't she go buy groceries? She isn't back yet? Then who's cooking dinner?"

Worry clouded Ned's expression. "And Rachel? Why isn't she here?"

"Oh, I think she said she was going home for a bit, right after you left. Why? What's going on?"

At her words, both brothers went pale.

The gnawing unease in their hearts hardened into certainty. Without answering, they spun on their heels and rushed out in search of their wives.

But they hadn't made it far when Scarlett appeared, her face flushed with anger, clutching the very items they had just given her—the admission letter and the passbook.

The brothers froze, dread coiling in their stomachs. Before they could ask, she spilled everything in a torrent.

"Robbie, Ned… Mary and Rachel have been playing us for fools! Look at this!"

Robbie stared at the envelope in her hand. Inside was not an admission letter at all, but a single slip of paper that said: Stop coveting what doesn't belong to you. As for those two pieces of trash, you can recycle them if you like.

The words were written in bold, confident strokes. Robbie recognized it instantly—it was Mary's handwriting.

Meanwhile, Ned's eyes were locked on the passbook. He knew very well that Rachel's wedding gift had been generous—the price her father had paid to send her away completely.

But the passbook in Scarlett's hands showed only a single cent.

The brothers lifted their heads and met each other's eyes. What they saw reflected back was the same: raw fear.

'It's over. Completely over. They knew. They knew everything!'