those humiliating moments are still permanently carved into the internet’s memory.
As I sighed, the light turned green.
I sighed again and drove on.
By the time I reached the next intersection, the comments were gone.
But on my phone, there was a message from five minutes ago.
“Sophie, are you alright?” The number was unfamiliar, and there was no signature.
But in this world, only one person calls me Sophie.
That person, and only that one. I paused for a moment, then chose to delete the message.
That concern came far too late.
Three years have passed.
Whether I’m doing well or not is no longer his business.
The car kept moving; I no longer had time to look back.
Only sometimes, when leaves drift down,
would I think of distant memories.
Before I turned eighteen, I had never suffered even once.
I was the treasured daughter of the Carter family.
I had a chauffeur for everything, and a nanny to care for me every day.
Even my arranged fiancé was the handsome and arrogant rising star of Newport’s elite, Lucas.
Back then, everyone said—
“Miss Carter was born lucky, the brightest jewel in the entire Newport social circle.”
Until the night before the wedding, when I was kidnapped.