Chapter 1

Standing in front of Haven Shelter, clutching a cheap-looking suitcase, I take a deep breath and smooth my wrinkled coat. I put on the pale, timid expression typical of someone fresh out of a psychiatric ward, then press the doorbell.

The door opens.

Daniel and Aurora appear hand in hand, and there, gleaming on Aurora's left ring finger, is the diamond wedding ring I once treasured.

The sunset makes the ring sparkle, stabbing at my eyes.

How interesting. I'm still alive, and she dares to wear my ring?

But I simply lower my gaze, pretending not to notice.

"Claire!" Daniel's voice carries complex emotions—guilt, surprise, and mostly bewilderment.

Aurora immediately releases Daniel's arm and rushes toward me, her face plastered with a caring smile. "Darling, you're finally home! You look so much better."

Darling? How phony.

I nervously fidget with my fingers, using the shy tone I've practiced a thousand times: "The doctor said... returning to familiar surroundings would help my recovery... If it's inconvenient, I could..."

"How could it be inconvenient!" Aurora jumps in, her voice dripping with exaggerated enthusiasm. "We've been waiting for you to come back! Haven't we, Daniel?"

Waiting for me? Waiting for me to come back and be your decoration?

Daniel nods, but his gaze shifts away. "Aurora's right. This past year, Aurora has managed the shelter beautifully. You can take your time getting reacquainted—no pressure."

Those words nearly break my act. Take my time getting reacquainted? This is the shelter I built from scratch, and now I need to "get reacquainted"?

I take a deep breath, swallowing my rage while maintaining a grateful smile. "Thank you both... Without Aurora, our family would have fallen apart."

That's not entirely a lie.

Without Aurora, my family certainly wouldn't be in its current state—completely hijacked by her.

A flash of smugness crosses Aurora's eyes. "It's what I should do. After all, you saved my life. Come on, let me show you around."

Saved your life, so you had to destroy mine in return?

We enter the main hall. I look around, pretending to refamiliarize myself while actually observing what changes Aurora has made.

The hall now has several potted plants, the sofas are rearranged, and there's a new "Employee of the Month" board on the wall with Aurora's photo prominently displayed at the top.

"Let me show you the recent improvements," Aurora says enthusiastically, leading the way. "We added a counseling room and a job training center..."

Just then, light footsteps echo from upstairs.

"Mommy!"

My heart pounds. Olivia runs downstairs—my daughter, my precious daughter—with her arms wide open, about to throw herself at me.

For that instant, I almost forget I'm acting.

Aurora immediately intercepts my daughter. "Olivia, stop."

My daughter stops mid-run, confused. "Why?"

My heart feels like it's being carved with a knife, but my expression can't show the slightest change.

"She's still very fragile. Too much excitement could trigger a relapse," Aurora crouches down, gently stroking my daughter's cheek. "We need to take it slow—we can't upset her."

She?

My hand in my bag instantly clenches into a fist, nails digging deep into my palm. But I maintain a gentle smile. "Olivia has grown so much."

"Can I hug her?" Olivia looks to Aurora, eyes full of longing.

She's asking a stranger for permission to hug me?

Aurora feigns reluctance. "Let me think... maybe a gentle hug would be okay."

I take a deep breath, telling myself to stay calm, to endure.

Olivia approaches cautiously, gives me a brief, careful hug, then quickly steps back. "Claire, will you be living here permanently?"

Claire? Not Mommy?

That hug was too brief—brief enough to break my heart. I deliberately show uncertainty. "I... I don't know."

"Of course she will!" Aurora answers for me. "This is her home too."

I simply nod, continuing my performance.

"Come on, let me show you your office," Aurora says.

We go upstairs. I push open that familiar door and freeze instantly.

Even though I was mentally prepared, seeing this still shocks me.

This place bears no resemblance to what I remember.

The photos documenting the shelter's development that once hung on the walls have been replaced with Aurora's work portraits. The desk displays a nameplate reading "Interim Director," and the professional books on the shelves have been swapped for pop psychology bestsellers.

Most galling of all, my awards and certificates have been moved to a corner, nearly obscured by Aurora's oversized work photos.

This woman doesn't even try to hide her ambition.

"I made some minor layout adjustments—I hope you don't mind," Aurora says with feigned concern, though her eyes gleam with challenge.

I say softly, "Not at all. It looks wonderful. You've always had excellent taste."

Aurora smiles with satisfaction. "How about I bring you up to speed on how the shelter's doing now?"

We sit at the conference table. Aurora opens her laptop and begins presenting this past year's "improvements."

"We've increased rescue efficiency by 30%, media coverage by 50%, charitable donations..." Aurora rattles on, completely absorbed in the thrill of showing off her achievements.

Using my foundation to flaunt my accomplishments. Shameless.

I act genuinely interested, nodding and praising throughout. "That's incredible, Aurora. You're truly gifted."

"Well, I'm standing on the shoulders of giants," Aurora says modestly, though she can't hide the smugness in her eyes. "You laid an excellent foundation."

When Aurora gets up to fetch some files, I deliberately knock over the coffee cup on the table.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry!" I jump up in a panic.

"It's fine, it's fine!" Aurora rushes for napkins to clean the table.

The moment Aurora bends down to clean up, I lightning-fast insert the tiny USB drive into Aurora's laptop port.

The entire movement flows as smoothly as if I'd practiced it a thousand times—which I have.

Five seconds later, I remove the drive, pretending to help clean the coffee spill.

Step one, complete.

"I'm so embarrassed—my hands still shake sometimes," I say apologetically.

"Completely understandable. It'll get better with time," Aurora says, wiping down her computer before continuing her presentation.

I quietly write "Phase 1: Infiltration Complete" in my notebook.

A year of planning has finally begun.

"How are you feeling?" Aurora asks with concern. "Is this too overwhelming for you?"

I shake my head gently. "Not at all. Aurora, I really can't thank you enough. Without you, our family would have fallen apart. I owe you everything."

I do owe you something—complete and utter destruction.

A flash of triumph crosses Aurora's face. "It's my duty. After all, you saved my life back then. Now it's my turn to protect this family."

Protect? Or possess?

But my expression remains grateful and docile.

After the meeting, I mention wanting to rest early. Daniel walks me to the guest room upstairs.

"Claire, I know everything's changed, but..." He trails off.

"I understand, Daniel." I gently touch his arm, fighting to keep my hand steady. "Aurora is wonderful, and Olivia adores her. I just want to adjust gradually and start fresh."

Complex emotions flicker in Daniel's eyes. "Are you... really better?"

"Much better," I smile. "The doctor says I need time, but I'm determined to try."

Daniel nods and turns to leave.

I close the door and immediately grab my phone, texting a mysterious number:

[I'm back. The performance begins.]

Almost instantly, I receive a reply:

[Roger. The network is ready.]

I delete the message thread with a cold smile.

Voices drift up from downstairs—Daniel and Aurora talking:

"Isn't her recovery suspiciously fast?" Daniel's voice carries doubt.

Aurora lets out a cold laugh. "So what if she's completely recovered? Legally, we've already won. Custody rights, property rights, shelter management rights... She wants to make a comeback? Dream on."

I walk to the window, gazing at the roses in the garden below. The white roses I planted with my own hands years ago are now blooming magnificently.

"Aurora, have you enjoyed yourself enough?" I whisper, feeling the flames of revenge burning in my chest. "Now it's my turn."