The yacht carrying my parents and sister exploded at sea. There were no survivors. Left with an empty house and a mountain of debt, my heart was hollowed out by grief. I was standing on the edge of a rooftop, ready to jump, when lines of text, like comments from some unseen audience, scrolled across my vision: [Actually, your parents won 300 million dollars in the lottery. They took your precious baby sister abroad to live in luxury.] [Hehe, and what the baby sister doesn't know is that the poor, blind boyfriend she dumped is actually the heir to the Croft fortune. He was just playing a 'pretend to be poor' game with her.] [When she blows through all the money and comes back, the enraged Mr. Croft is going to lock her away and punish her.] [The cannon fodder needs to jump faster. Can't wait for the real heroine's return.] Suddenly, I decided not to die. That night, soaking wet and reeking of cheap whiskey, I stumbled into Donald Croft’s shabby apartment. … I woke to the faint light of dawn, my body aching all over. As I turned my head, Donald’s eyes fluttered open. He was blind. A car accident six months ago had stolen his sight. My sister, Mila, disgusted by his poverty and disability, had tried to break up with him countless times. His beautiful eyes, usually unfocused and empty, were always fixed on some distant, unseen point. But for a split second just now, I could have sworn he was staring right at me. Just as quickly, however, his gaze returned to its usual hollow vacancy. His voice was a low rasp. “Mila? Is that you?” The comments flooded my vision again: [What the hell? The cannon fodder didn't die? And now she's in bed with Donald?] [I'm so mad! Is she trying to impersonate Mila? Donald’s eyes have been fine for a while now. If she tries to deceive him, she's going to die a horrible death!] So, he could see all along. I bit my lip, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart. My voice was filled with a carefully crafted helplessness. “No, I… I’m her sister, Lena.” “My sister… she passed away.” “I came by yesterday to bring you some of her things, but I was drinking, and I… I don’t remember anything after that.” I glanced at the clothes on the floor, torn and crumpled into a ball, and awkwardly looked away. “Were you… thinking I was Mila last night? I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have been drinking, but I was just so heartbroken.” “After all,” I whispered, my voice breaking, “I’m all alone now.” I let out a small, choked sob. The comments swirled: [So stupid. She's actually making excuses for him. Donald isn't really blind. When she threw herself at him last night, all soaking wet, I saw him react instantly.] [What man could resist a bombshell throwing herself into his arms? This girl is a scheming bitch.] My body trembled slightly. The thin blanket slipped from my shoulder, revealing the red marks on my pale skin. Donald’s Adam’s apple bobbed. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “I’m sorry. I mistook you for someone else.” With red-rimmed eyes, I clumsily wrapped the tattered remains of my clothes around myself. “In that case,” I said, my voice thick with feigned dignity, “let’s just pretend this never happened.” “I should go. Please, try not to be too sad.” I stood up, but my legs gave way, and I nearly collapsed. Donald reached out to steady me. The moment his fingertips brushed my wrist, I flinched. More comments: [He’s not sad at all. He already found out Mila faked her death.] [He even hired those debt collectors himself. Forcing Lena to kill herself was his first warning to Mila.] [Mila has no idea her life has been hijacked.] [I hate her! Die, cannon fodder, die, die, die!] I kept my head down and hurried out the door. When I got home, the loan sharks who had been lurking downstairs were gone. My stomach dropped. They really were his men. I closed the door and sank to the floor, exhausted. My body ached everywhere. Of course, I hadn't been drunk. My original plan, born of desperation, was simply to win a shred of his sympathy, to get him to call off his dogs. I never expected his reaction to be so… intense. We’d gone at it all night. A bitter smile twisted my lips. Donald had been injured in the car accident while saving Mila. But after he became a “disabled” blind man, she couldn't stand the sight of him. She ignored his texts. She made him wait for three hours in the freezing rain while she video-chatted with someone else upstairs. She called his gifts cheap and threw them in the trash right in front of him. I used to feel sorry for him. But now I saw it was all just a game for a bored, rich boy. The comments erupted into an argument: [I think Mila made the right choice. Who wouldn't want a rich guy? Who wants a poor, blind boyfriend? If Donald wanted to test her, this game was just cruel.] [Honestly, Mila might be selfish, but she’s lucky. When she gets back with Donald, she becomes the lady of the Croft mansion. And he’ll go right back to spoiling her rotten.] [Exactly. Good girls get a good reputation. Bad girls get everything.] Reading their words, I felt a surge of bitter absurdity. My parents had always favored Mila. She stole my toys, my clothes, my scholarship money. After I started working, they took my salary, earned from slaving away until midnight, to pay for her expensive dance classes and luxury goods. I was supposed to be her stepping stone, the foundation for her success. And now, they’d won 300 million dollars. Not only did they abandon me with their debts, but they were also willing to sacrifice my life to pave the way for hers. Why should she get everything, while I was left to die? Resentment coiled around my heart like a poisonous vine. I had spent my whole life picking up Mila’s scraps. Since she had thrown Donald away, too… I might as well pick him up and make good use of him. I ran into Donald again sooner than I expected. I was leaving the hotel where I worked part-time, bone-tired and weary. I looked up and saw him standing across the street. A cigarette dangled from his lips, his hand resting on a white cane. The boredom of the rich was truly something else. Even with Mila gone, he was still committed to the act. A man nearby seemed to recognize him and started walking over, his face plastered with a sycophantic grin. “Donald!” I suddenly called out, dashing across the street toward him. Before he could react, I grabbed his wrist. “Come with me.” I spoke quickly, my voice low. “I saw someone suspicious heading your way. It might be a debt collector.” “My sister took out huge loans before she… you were her boyfriend, so they’ll definitely come after you. You can’t see. It’s too dangerous.” “You were hurt trying to save my sister. I’ll protect you in her place.” “Don’t worry. As long as I’m alive, I won’t let them hurt you.” “I will never leave you.” My voice was so earnest it was almost reverent. “Will you trust me?” Something in my words seemed to get to him. Donald paused, then took a lazy step forward, letting me lead him away, back to my tiny apartment. And I, true to my word, devoted myself to him completely. When his stomach acted up, I’d crawl out of bed in the middle of the night to buy him medicine. Since he “couldn’t see,” I would take his hand and guide it over every object in the apartment, again and again, until he knew where everything was. I’d go hungry myself, saving every penny I had to take him to the eye doctor for follow-up appointments. Through it all, Donald would watch me with a cool detachment, a flicker of mockery sometimes crossing his features. At the hospital, the doctor shook his head, saying there was no improvement. My disappointment and pain were written all over my face. As we left the clinic, Donald let out a sudden, cold laugh. “I heard you sigh. Is it really that big of a deal? I’m the one who’s blind. What do you have to be sad about?” I stopped and cupped his face in my hands. The surprise in his eyes was, for a moment, completely unguarded. “You’re important to me,” I said, studying his eyes intently. “So when you’re in pain, I feel it too.” “Your eyes are beautiful. I’m not giving up on them.” Donald’s throat moved, and he “looked” at me with a complex expression. My face was a mask of sorrow, but I forced a smile into my voice. “Really. I was just thinking… if you could see again, I’d do anything.” When we got home, I led him inside, my eyes still red. As I poured him a glass of water, half of it spilled down my front. The thin fabric of my shirt became translucent, clinging to my curves. The look in Donald’s eyes changed. I saw the shift in his posture, the subtle tension in his body. Steeling myself, I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. He froze for two seconds before taking control, his kiss turning fierce and demanding. The next morning, I ached even more than the first time. I forced myself out of bed. Donald was already up. He tossed a necklace at me. “I got this at a street stall a while back. It’s not worth much, but it’s pretty. It’s yours.” The comments exploded: [I can’t believe this. Why is Donald getting tangled up with this cannon fodder? Doesn’t he know Mila was tricked into gambling and is in serious trouble?!] [Isn't that the diamond Donald bought at auction? Why is he giving it to her? That was supposed to be a gift to appease Mila after he locked her away and she got mad!] [Get your hands off Mila’s man, you pathetic bitch!] I ignored their hysterical rage and stared at the necklace in my hand. A diamond from an auction… It had to be worth a fortune. If I sold it, would I be set for life? Just then, new comments appeared: [Calm down, everyone. Can't you see Donald is getting ready to dump her?] [His grandfather heard he's been messing around all year and is furious. He's ordered him to come home immediately.] [Donald's worried this cannon fodder will cling to him, so he's planning to stage his own kidnapping. He'll have himself thrown into the ocean in front of her to crush any hope she has.] [She’s so delusional. She doesn't see the way he looks at her, like she’s a dog he’s about to abandon.] He was going back? I clutched the diamond, a surge of dissatisfaction washing over me. All my careful acting, and all I got was one small diamond? Mila had to do nothing, and she would come back to claim everything. It wasn't fair. That afternoon, Donald said he needed to go out alone and told me not to follow. I knew what he was up to. And I had things to do as well. I went to a pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test. Thinking about how off my body had been feeling lately, my heart hammered against my ribs. When I saw the two stark red lines appear, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I still had a trump card to play. Just then, my phone rang. “Lena, is it? You don’t pay your debts, you pay the price. I’ve got your boyfriend. If you don’t want him dead, get to this address.”
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