On my thirtieth birthday night, I stabbed my best friend with a cake knife when she was singing “Happy Birthday”.

She let out an agonized scream as blood soaked through her clothes.

We had planned this staged death a long time ago.

Sobbing, she begged me to do this act in front of my husband, so she wouldn’t have to repay her enormous credit card debt.

However, seven days later, when the police informed me that the forensic examination confirmed that she died on the spot, my whole body began to tremble. And as the image of my friend lying in her pool of blood entered my mind, I vomited nonstop.

My husband hired the best lawyer for me, so I was only sentenced to ten years in prison.

Because the image of my friend's terrifying death haunted my dreams, I endured the bullying from my cellmates and accepted every injustice the prison guard inflicted on me.

I started a hunger strike and swallowed glass, but my best friend refused to forgive me and every attempt to kill myself failed.

Ten years later, when I returned home like a wandering ghost, I saw my best friend standing before my husband. When she took off her shirt, kiss marks colored her collarbone.

Then, my husband pulled her into his arms with such familiarity.

Ten years ago, he kept emphasizing that he had suddenly developed a skin allergy and moved into the study so he wouldn’t have to be intimate with me. Not only that, his suits always carried the scent of the perfume I loved.

Naively, I thought it came from the perfume laundry from washing his suit. Coincidentally, the perfume band was not just my favorite but also my best friend's.

I thought my husband hired the lawyer as a gesture of his love, but it turned out he was actually the demon who pushed me into the abyss.

After the shock passed, I laughed.

I took out my old-fashioned phone and dialed a number long buried in the past.

“Help me draft a divorce agreement. In one week, I’ll be gone from here.”

***

The moment I pushed open the door, the living room fell silent.

It had been ten years, but my husband and my best friend seemed unchanged. And I, standing in the doorway, felt like an intruder.

Because I was just released from prison and had nowhere else to go, all I could do was return to this home.

With my eyes fixed on the glaring hickey beneath my friend’s collarbone, I slammed the door shut behind me.

Though my best friend seemed a bit guilty, she quickly met my gaze. My husband, however, acted as if nothing had happened. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”

I wanted to shout at them, but deep down, I already knew the answer.

“I'm back.”

My husband, Jacob Sinclair, shot me a glance and raised an eyebrow.

"What? Do you want me to apologize for disturbing your private moment?" I asked calmly.

Before he could answer, my best friend, Leslie Summer, looked me up and down with pitiful eyes. "You should thank me properly. If I hadn't felt sorry for you, I would've had the lawyer get you a death sentence long ago.”

Over these past ten years, everything I had endured had taught me to remain unruffled.

Ten years ago, I thought I was the happiest person in the world. Not only did I have the most perfect love, but I also possessed a soulmate who understood me completely.

Just days before my thirtieth birthday, my best friend tearfully begged me to play along with her scheme. She had overspent fifteen million dollars and no matter what she tried, she couldn’t pay the debt.

So, to raise money, she had to work odd jobs day and night, but she still could not gather together fifteen million dollars.

She promised me she had already found a lawyer and that once she escaped her debt, she would immediately announce her “revived” physical condition.

Seeing her crying her eyes out, I finally agreed, with my husband as a witness.

“Honey, what a brilliant plan you have. We can be together openly without you repaying that fifteen million dollars.” Jacob’s gaze toward Leslie was brimming with love.

"It's just a mere fifteen million dollars. I could repay it with a flick of my finger,” Jacob replied. His eyes filled with a mixture of helplessness and doting affection.

“I'm only doing this to save you money,” Leslie murmured, pressing her body against his chest.

As I watched them acting so intimately, embracing each other, as if no one else existed, my chest ached as if pierced by needles.

So, I walked away from them, intending to return to the bedroom to retrieve some personal belongings and leave this place.

Seeing my complete lack of reaction, a fire ignited in Jacob’s eyes. He grabbed my wrist harshly. “Where do you think you’re going?”

I struggled to break free but fell to the floor. The old-model phone that I had hidden in my clothes slipped out and hit the floor.

Leslie bent down to pick it up, pressed a button casually and gasped in surprise. “Oh my, you have an unread text message.”

“Divorce agreement ....” She held the phone and read it aloud.

In an instant, Jacob snatched the phone. As he frowned at the screen, his eyes practically spitting fire.

He tossed the phone aside. “Irene Lambert, what the hell are you trying to pull? Don't think this will make me beg you!”

"You really can't stand seeing Leslie doing well, huh?"

After I picked up my phone, I was relieved to find it undamaged.

“Since you two are living such a blissful life now, why not let me leave?”

Leslie pleaded with the man beside her, "We'll have to support her after the divorce; I can't just watch her become homeless. After all, she was in prison for ten years, where would she go?"

She looked at me sarcastically, as if reminding me of being locked in prison for ten years.

Suddenly, Jacob dragged me into the small wooden hut in the garden. “A stray dog like you wanting a divorce? That's not your call to make. All you need to do is be my dog obediently."

I picked up my phone and confirmed the divorce agreement.

The next day, I left the Sinclair Family villa and went to my grandmother's house. Grandma lived in a remote mountain village. After I was in prison, I lost contact with her.

As I looked at the dilapidated doorway, I heard Grandma's voice—she was laughing and chatting with a young woman. And that woman was none other than Leslie.

Alarms went off in me. “Leslie, stay away from my grandma!”

Grandma, who was unaware of what had happened between us, asked, "Did you two have a fight?”

Seeing me, she became emotional. "Child, you've finally returned to the country."

“In the ten years you were overseas, it was Leslie who came to visit me regularly. She is such a good girl.”

It seemed Leslie had concealed my whereabouts from Grandma all these years. Well, at least she has some conscience.

Ignoring me, she handed Grandma an orange. “Grandma, I have a friend who actually killed someone close to her. She's been in prison for ten years.”

Grandma’s expression instantly hardened. “There’s such a demon in the world?”

She motioned for me to sit beside her. “Irene, you must stay far away from anyone with a criminal record.”

My heart tightened as I glanced at Leslie.

Grandma was already so old that she couldn’t take any more shock.

Her fingers gripped mine nervously. “Irene, you absolutely mustn't associate with shady characters—especially those who've done time! Once you go to jail, your life will be ruined!” "

My nose stung as I nodded.

Grandma, I'm sorry.

Ignoring my guarded look, Leslie continued, “There’s a popular game lately called “There's this popular game going around called ‘Heartbeat Choice.’”

“You pick the slightly better one between two options—it's fun and gets your dopamine flowing.”

She stood up and prepared a cup of milk for Grandma.

While preparing it, she said to me, “You must be careful in everything you do. What if you end up in prison?”

“But don't worry. Even if you serve ten years, I'll take care of Grandma for you.” She pulled out a packet of unidentified powder and added it to the milk.

I walked toward Leslie and took the cup of milk with the added substance from her. “I’ll learn to see the true color of my so-called friends.”

She whispered in my ear, “Make a choice—do you want Grandma to drink it, or do you want to drink it yourself?”

I looked her directly in the eye and was just about to pour the milk out.

"Grandma has two stents in her heart now. Once she finds out you weren't working abroad these past ten years, but became a murderer instead ... I don't need to remind you what might happen, do I?”

When she said that, a hint of amusement flickered in her eyes.

My hand suddenly stopped in mid-air and I darted my eyes toward Grandma. I raised the milk and said, "Grandma, if I can't visit you anymore, you must take good care of yourself.”

Then, I resolutely drowned the milk in one gulp.

After that, I turned the glass upside down and showed it to Leslie that there was not a single drop left.

Grandma gazed at me tenderly. “Good child, go ahead and do what you have to do.”

I sat behind my grandmother and combed her hair with tears in my eyes.

When a sharp pain gripped my stomach, in order not to scare her, I forced out a comforting smile with all my strength and said, "There is a sudden work that I have to do, so I'm leaving now."

The pain was getting worse. The moment I closed the door, I collapsed to the floor, unable to hold on any longer and everything went black.

Crawl. I have to crawl. I can't scare Grandma.

Suddenly, a pair of spotless leather shoes appeared before my eyes.

“Help... help me.” I lifted my head, only to plunge back into darkness.

When I woke again, the beeping of medical equipment filled my ears. And the first thing I saw was the man I once loved to the bone, yet totally despised now, Jacob.

“You're finally awake,” he said, gripping my hand eagerly.

When a wave of nausea washed over me, I wished the divorce papers would take effect immediately.

Seeing the stubbornness on my face, his expression hardened.

“If it weren't for me, you would be dead now!" He gritted his teeth.

But you are the one who made me face all of these.

I couldn't be bothered to exchange another word with him. I just yanked out the IV needle from my arm and stumbled out.

When Jacob grabbed me, I struggled. "Don't touch me!"

People coming and going to the ward stopped to watch.

“My wife is just throwing a little tantrum,” Jacob told the onlookers.

“She's ill and has suffered some psychological trauma.” He was a natural actor.

“I'm not! I want a divorce!” I tried to state the truth calmly, hoping someone would help me.

“Wife, I’ll definitely cure you. No matter what, I’ll never leave you.” It’s a pity he isn’t an actor.

When the passerby wanted to say something, they were moved by Jacob's affectionate eyes.

He was taller than me, so he could easily overpower me.

The doctor injected me with a sedative.

So, even though I could clearly feel he was attaching medical devices to my body, I could not move.

By the time I fully regained consciousness, Leslie came to see me with a feigned concern.

She took out a syringe and forcibly pried open my mouth.

The medicine exploded in my stomach. I clutched my abdomen and collapsed on the bed.

“Oh dear! Did I accidentally give you the capsaicin-laced medicine?” She exaggerated dramatically.

She summoned the doctor, demanding a “thorough” gastric lavage.

The doctor immediately understood what was happening and pinned me down on the bed.

I watched helplessly as the red solution flowed through the gastric tube and went inside my body. Everywhere it touched, excruciating pain pierced my heart.

Tears and snot streamed down my face.

Through tear-filled eyes, I saw Leslie holding her phone to my face, snapping photo after photo.

“Best friend must have each embarrassing photo," she declared triumphantly.

When the night fell, Jacob came to visit again. Seeing me lying weakly in bed, a flicker of pity crossed his eyes.

“If you had obeyed obediently, none of this would have happened.”

I found it laughable and turned my head away. But he pinched my cheeks and forced me to look at him.

Seeing my face was still as beautiful as it had been ten years ago, he reluctantly released his hold. “What exactly do you want to make you feel better? It's only been ten years.”

“If you just obey and be a good Mrs. Sinclair, I'll make sure you live a comfortable life.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

Ten years ago, I obeyed his every word. But now, after I had seen the truth, I refused to play along with his charade of a mere decorative, wealthy wife's game anymore.

Does he expect me to spend my life as a parasite under their loving gaze?

He was so arrogant, as if everything was within his grasp.

“Impossible!” I said, enunciating each word.

After he left, I closed my eyes.

In the darkness, I heard his voice clearly. “Make sure she takes her sedatives every day.”

Leslie came to the ward once more to feed me my pills. Only after seeing me swallow them obediently did she leave and I fell into a deep sleep.

“This time she’s surprisingly obedient.”

Once she was gone, I secretly spat every last sedative out of my mouth.