Chapter 3

"Verification failed. Please contact the administrator."

The smart lock on my front door repeated the same cold message. My fingerprint and iris scan had been deleted.

I designed this smart home system. Every single line of code, from the base protocol to the voice interaction module, was written by me.

I entered the administrator bypass code. The lock clicked open.

The living room was bathed in a warm yellow glow. There were two new pink cushions on the couch, and a vase of lilies sat on the coffee table. Next to the shoe rack lay a pair of white stiletto sandals—size five, Seraphina's size.

All of my shoes had been packed into a cardboard box by the door.

I opened the walk-in closet. The entire left side was filled with Seraphina’s dresses. Trench coats with tags still attached, neatly folded silk pajamas. At the very back hung a men’s dress shirt with lipstick on the collar.

My clothes had been stuffed into two black trash bags and thrown into the corner.

This wasn't something that could be done overnight.

I opened the local log of the smart home system—a layer ordinary users couldn't access, restricted only to administrators.

The security camera logs started from two months ago.

Seraphina had walked into this house with her suitcase. Julian carried it to the master bedroom for her. They stood in front of the hallway mirror, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw.

Two months ago. I was in California coordinating a mass production plan with a chip manufacturer. Julian had called me, complaining about how lonely the house felt and begging me to come home early.

I scrolled to the logs from a week ago.

In the living room, Julian stood in front of the full-length mirror, repeating the same line over and over.

"Who are you? Where is my fiancée, Seraphina?"

The first time was too stiff. The second time, his eyes weren't vacant enough. By the third time, he finally perfected it—the slightly dilated pupils, the parted lips, a carefully crafted look of innocent bewilderment.

Seraphina sat on the couch behind him, grading him.

"Seven out of ten. Make it blanker. Look right through her, like you're looking at something else."

Julian practiced twice more.

Seraphina clapped. "Perfect score."

My phone buzzed. A group chat notification.

It wasn't one of the chats I had been kicked out of—it was a group I didn't even know existed, named "Julian & Seraphina's Wedding Planning." Created four months ago.

Carter had sent me the screenshot without a single word of explanation.

The group included Sterling Group executives, Seraphina’s bridesmaids, and two wedding planning teams. The latest message was from 3:00 PM today.

"The amnesia act is done. Seraphina is officially taking over. Everyone, get ready for the next steps."

"What about Clara?"

"Doesn't matter. She can't do anything anyway."

The person who sent that message was Julian himself.

My phone buzzed again.

Caller ID: Mrs. Sterling.

"Clara, do you have any idea Julian was in a car crash?"

"I do."

"Then why aren't you at the hospital taking care of him? Seraphina told me you had a horrible attitude—"

"Mrs. Sterling, he’s faking the amnesia. His brain CT is completely normal."

Silence on the other end for three seconds.

"It takes two to tango, Clara. If Julian were happy with you, would he have to resort to this?"

"You've been married to him for seven years and haven't even given him a child. Seraphina has been loyal to Julian for so long, working tirelessly without complaint. What right do you have to be so picky?"

"My seven years—"

"I don't understand your patents and tech stuff. But Julian said those are company resources anyway. Clara, let me give you some advice: take what you can get and leave. Don't make a scene. It won't end well for anyone."

She hung up.

I leaned against the closet doorframe. In front of me were Seraphina’s dresses; behind me were trash bags filled with my clothes.

The system chimed softly.

"Hello, Administrator. A new live-stream forwarding address has been detected on the master bedroom camera. Would you like to terminate it?"

Seraphina was using my own system to spy on my every move.

"Terminate forwarding. Clear all external authorizations."

"Executed."

I grabbed the two trash bags and walked out of the house I had lived in for five years.

The door locked automatically behind me, and the system gave one final broadcast.

"Goodbye, Administrator."