Not long after we broke up, Liam Caillet found someone new.

Years later, we met again. I was a top influencer. He had acquired the MCN agency I signed with.

He blocked my collaborations, snatched away my brand deals, and shut down my livestream channel—all because his new girlfriend said, "Her face bothers me. I don't like it."

Well, I'm a cancer blogger. How good is someone supposed to look when they're dying?

***

Right after the pre-Thanksgiving stream ended, my assistant, Alicia Hayes, came in with bad news.

"Gabriella! I'm so pissed. Mr. Caillet replaced you with Sandra on the ad contract again!"

My heart sank. I swallowed the pain, forced a smile, and tried to calm her. "Let it go, Alicia."

But she refused. "Again? How many times now? Do you even want to live? So what if you dumped him first? He moved on right away anyway!"

I cleared my throat, lowering my voice, trying to stop her.

But she glared. "No. I'm going to Liam's. I'll tell him you're—"

"Alicia, don't!" I grabbed her hand. "I'll talk to him myself. Okay?"

Just then, the executive assistant pushed open the livestream room door.

"Gabriella, Mr. Caillet wants to see you. Now."

My heart jolted. It was the first time he called for me since acquiring this MCN agency.

Standing outside Liam's glass office, my hand froze mid-air, unable to knock.

Seeing his cold profile sent a chill through me. My heart trembled.

I forced myself to stay calm and knocked.

As I walked in, the first thing I saw was a framed photo on his desk—him and Sandra Sullivan at their college graduation.

The day I broke up with him, he accepted her confession. That day became their anniversary.

Just as my thoughts drifted, Liam slammed a file onto the desk.

"Take a look. Your account data. Five months straight, under 8,000 dollars. Give me a good reason."

I glanced down. The bolded line at the bottom stabbed like a knife.

"Beauty Influencer, Gabriella Rochon. Followers, 1.32M. Streams, 52. Conversion rate, 3.2%. Recommendation, Terminate partnership."

"Terminate partnership"—those words strangled me.

I struggled to breathe. My emotions spiked.

"Mr. Caillet, my traffic's been stable. Every stream pulls tens of thousands of viewers, but you cut off tipping and stopped giving me brand deals..."

"Gabriella." Liam suddenly called my name, cold and sharp, cutting me off. He looked down at me like a king addressing a subject. "So you're saying this is my fault?"

I froze, speechless.

"Isn't it?" I thought.

Liam let out a cold laugh. "Gabriella, you really think you're important enough for me to target?"

The words hit like a boomerang, punching a hole straight through my chest.

All the bitterness came rushing in, unstoppable...

Three years ago, I broke up with Liam.

That proud man, almost 1.9 meters tall, had bent down, begging me not to leave.

And I said, "Liam, you think you're someone worth staying for?"

Honestly, from the moment I left him, I never thought about today.

"Starting today, we're taking back your account. Gabriella, your contract has been terminated."

His voice was as cold as ice. He didn't even bother lifting his eyelids when he dropped the verdict.

My body stiffened. I could barely breathe.

"Liam, please... just give me a little more time. I'll prove my value. I can make money for you..."

The word "money" seemed to hit a nerve.

He let out a mocking snort, finally lifting his eyes to glance at me. "Gabriella, you think I need your pocket change?"

He suddenly straightened, lips tight, eyes darkening with hatred.

"Gabriella, you know what? If I could buy a life with money, I'd spend it just to see you dead."

It felt like a bullet tore through my chest. The pain almost made me cry.

I knew he hated me. But I didn't think it ran this deep.

I couldn't blame him. I had pushed him into hell when he needed me most. Of course, he hated me.

Liam's father was a narcotics officer. His biggest dream was to wear his father's badge again.

At 18, he got into the police academy. But to save me, he fought with some thugs, got arrested, and ended up with a permanent stain on his record. Dream over.

At 22, he was diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy. In and out of the ICU five times, six critical notices.

Before his surgery, he asked to see me one last time. I thought it was just another way to make me stay. So I told him, "Liam, whether you live or die has nothing to do with me."

Now, facing the disgust in his eyes, I clenched my teeth. I had no words left.

I owed him.

My dry eyes blinked hard. My voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Let me finish this month. Please."

I lowered my head, hoping this pathetic plea would move him.

In the end, all I got was...

"Get out. Five days. Don't show up again."

Gripping the termination papers, I stiffly walked out of his office. The cold air conditioner wrapped around me like an icebox.

Suddenly, a wave of metallic heat rose in my throat.

I rushed into the break room, pulled out my cancer painkillers, and swallowed them with cold water.

After a long while, I leaned against the wall, barely holding on. Then I pulled out my phone, snapped a close-up of the termination papers, and posted it on my backup account.

"Day 1038 of fighting cancer. My beloved first love just fired me. Five days till unemployment."

The truth is, I was diagnosed with hereditary bone cancer three years ago. My five-year survival rate was less than 20%.

The moment I posted it, my followers flooded the comments.

"Marmalade, you're the bravest cancer blogger I follow. Since you're unemployed now, just take a break and rest."

"Fired by your first love? I thought you said he was just a broke college student?"

That comment hit me like a punch in the chest.

I used to think we were both poor. Until after we broke up when he got together with Sandra.

That night, fireworks lit up the whole city.

Everyone knew—the heir of the Caillet Group, Liam, was officially dating.

Later, I saw a screenshot posted on the campus confession wall—a chat between him and someone else.

The person asked why he pretended to be poor.

He replied, "I used to fake being broke to keep gold diggers away. But I'm not worried anymore. The one who tried gave up on her own."

Bitterness filled my mouth. My heart ached.

At some point, Alicia appeared. She patted me gently, worried. "Gabriella, are you okay? You look pale. Should we go to the hospital?"

I forced a smile and shook my head. "I'm fine. Just..."

I handed her the termination papers. "Just... I won't be able to work with you anymore."

Alicia snatched the papers, read them twice, and burst out in anger.

"Liam is a bastard! Who does this kind of petty revenge? Kicking you when you're down—he's not afraid of karma? Does he even realize cutting you off is basically killing you?"

Ignoring everything, Alicia grabbed my hand and dragged me out, heading straight for Liam's office. Suddenly, we stumbled into a noisy crowd.

Sandra stood there in a white dress, handing out wedding invitations and a bag of candy to everyone.

When she reached me, she smiled smugly. "Gabriella, you have to come to witness our wedding! After all, you're the one who brought us together!"

Wedding?

Liam's getting married...

My blood froze. My throat tightened.

I forced a smile, my voice hoarse. "Then I wish you and Mr. Caillet a lifetime of happiness."

The words scraped my chest as I took her wedding invitation and candy.

The next second, Liam appeared. He snatched it from my hand and tossed it straight into the trash.

Without even glancing at me, he grabbed Sandra's hand, interlacing their fingers.

"My wedding isn't open to just anyone."

His words landed like a hammer on my chest. The office went dead silent. Everyone exchanged awkward glances. Alicia tried to step in, but I pressed her hand down.

I watched as Liam, hand in hand with Sandra, disappeared through the door. One by one, the others scattered.

When the noise faded, only Alicia and I were left.

I bent down and slowly picked the candies out of the trash, one piece after another.

Chocolate, strawberry, milk...

But not a single apple.

That year, at the top of the Ferris wheel, after kissing me, he said, "From now on, I'll only eat apple candy."

He didn't love me anymore. Not even a little.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips as tears fell, splattering on the candy.

I clenched the candy in my fist, pressing it against my chest, trying to hold back the pain ripping through me.

But it wouldn't stop.

Alicia pulled me into her arms and brought me back to my rented place near the cancer hospital.

When she brought me boiled eggs, I was writing "Bet Agreement" on a piece of paper.

Alicia frowned. "Why are you writing this?"

I carefully folded the paper and smiled faintly. "Even though Liam kicked me out, I want to give it one last shot. I want him to see my worth. That I can make him money."

Alicia stared at me in disbelief. "How?"

"By doing battles. I'll top the gift rankings."

I had prepared so many ways to convince Liam, yet none of them were needed.

After reading my bet agreement, he only said one thing, "If you don't know how to give up, I don't mind teaching you."

His eyes were sharp enough to pierce through me. I could only smile bitterly.

"What are you smiling at?" His voice was full of hate.

I just remembered the time he taught me how to ride a bike—his tone was exactly the same.

The memory stabbed my bones, but all I said was, "Thank you, Mr. Caillet, for giving me this chance."

***

That night's stream, I was ready to go all in.

No filters. Harsh lighting. Bare face. Full-on clickbait.

The moment I went live, I shot straight to the top of trending.

"Beauty Guru Gabriella Goes Filter-Free—AI-Level Queen Stuns the World!"

I thought Liam would pit me against some big influencer or A-list celeb.

I never expected it to be Sandra.

No time to be shocked. I snapped into host mode, greeting the hundreds of thousands flooding into my stream.

As I applied intricate designs on my face with my makeup tools, my ranking on the gift leaderboard soared—straight to an overwhelming first place!

Meanwhile, Sandra's stream struggled—barely 10K viewers.

There was no doubt. I was going to win.

Even the chat was telling me to go easy on the rookie.

But then, in the final 30 seconds, Liam suddenly dropped into Sandra's stream—blasting 999 rockets at once!

My hand shook, the eyeliner pen slipping—red ink staining the white of my eye.

In a blink, Sandra shot past me on the leaderboard.

The results flipped instantly. I lost to her by a thousand points.

Sandra smiled, calm and smug.

Following the rules, she randomly picked a punishment from the comments. "Since you lost, Gabriella, your punishment is to kiss the control guy for three seconds!"

The poor tech intern—a fresh-faced guy—blushed as he was pushed in front of the camera. I could hear his heart pounding from a few meters away.

He avoided my gaze, clearly flustered. I couldn't help but tease, "Got a girlfriend?"

He froze, then shook his head fast. "No... never even dated."

This would be his first kiss.

I looked at him, a little guilty. Part of me wanted to just give up.

What did it matter? I had already lost my job.

I didn't want to drag an innocent kid into this.

I glanced up at him, apologetic. "Sorry, I—"

Before I could finish, the intern suddenly grabbed my waist, leaned in, and kissed me—warm breath brushing against my lips.

The comments instantly exploded.

"OMG! Queen and young boy! This is so sweet!"

"I'm jealous of the intern! I'd trade my whole life to kiss a queen like her!"

Then—BANG! The studio door flew open.

In the middle of the frenzy, Liam stormed in, face like a thundercloud. Without a word, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me out!

Liam yanked me straight out of the studio.

He sneered, his cold eyes stabbing into me.

"Gabriella, Andy is my cousin. You? Kiss him? You think you're worthy?"

His words nearly tore my heart apart.

The moment our eyes met, his hatred almost crushed me.

I rubbed my wrist, red from his grip, blinking back the sting in my eyes. "Sorry. I didn't know who he was. I was just playing by the rules."

Right then, a tall figure stepped in front of me, blocking him. Andy Caillet squared up to him.

"Whether she's worthy or not, I'll decide. Don't touch her, Liam."

I froze, staring at Andy's back. My gaze slid past his shoulder—Liam's eyes locked on me, the chill in the stabbing straight into my heart.

"Andy, what do you even see in her? Greed? Schemes?"

Andy shot back, voice tense. "So what, Liam? You got hurt once, and now you see ghosts everywhere?

"And stop harping on profit. The Caillet family's loaded—we couldn't spend it all in ten lifetimes."

With that, he grabbed my hand and brushed past Liam.

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw his face stiffen.

Once we were outside, Andy let go of my hand and, feeling apologetic, tried to explain.

"Gabriella, Liam lost control because he once pretended to be poor, dated a scholarship girl, and got burned. Don't take his words to heart."

"Yeah." I forced a small smile, pretending I was fine. I didn't tell him—I was that scholarship girl.

Thinking I didn't believe him, Andy continued softly, "Liam was crazy about her. He even tattooed her name over his heart. Later, he had surgery to get the skin replaced."

"He thinks she's disgusting. I think she's bad luck too." His gaze burned into me. "But you're different—"

Pain surged in my chest, unstoppable.

The tattoo on my right atrium with Liam's name seemed to ache too.

Peeling skin, carving flesh. It must've hurt like hell back then.

I swallowed my tears and cut Andy off.

"Thanks for helping me out today. Colleagues, after all."

That one word, "colleague," choked whatever he was about to say. His eyes, bright a second ago, dimmed instantly.

I turned and left him standing there.

By the time I packed my stuff and went to HR to process my resignation, the HR rep threw a voluntary resignation form at me with a cold face.

"Mr. Caillet agreed to terminate your contract at the end of this month. If you leave now, it's voluntary. No severance."

My mind went blank. I couldn't afford to lose that money. Treatments, and meds—they expensive. I couldn't touch my savings either.

I changed my mind on the spot. "I'll finish out the month."

Only four days left. I couldn't afford to be stupid about money.

The HR woman sneered, glanced at the coffee nearby, then ordered, "This is for Ms. Sullivan. Mr. Caillet ordered it. Since you've got nothing to do, deliver it."

On the coffee bag was Liam's handwritten note.

"Less ice, less sugar. Cut back on coffee, sleep more."

The words were warm. Once, that warmth was mine too.

I grabbed the coffee and headed to Sandra's office.

As I walked, old memories crept back.

I remembered his phone, packed with notes about my favorite things.

"Gabriella likes watermelon and hates vinegar. Loves strawberries, but not strawberry-flavored candy..."

A mix of sadness and bitterness welled up inside me.

Did he take notes on Sandra's likes too? Did he brew hot tea for her during her period? Massage her stomach? Did he hold her and sing to her when she was down?

Then I felt stupid.

She was his fiancée. The one he chose to spend his life with. Of course, he did. Probably gave her even more.

My eyes stung.

I shook off the discomfort, knocked on her door, and walked inside.

"Ms. Sullivan, your coffee, from Mr. Caillet."

She reached out, then suddenly froze. Her sharp gaze locked onto my slightly open collar.

I looked down, following her eyes—there it was. The tattooed Liam on my chest.

I instinctively tried to pull my collar up, but Sandra yanked my hand. "Gabriella, showing off your tattoo so Liam can see it, huh?"

I wanted to deny it, but she didn't care and continued, "You think flashing that tattoo will make him fall for you again? Or maybe let you stay in the company?"

My throat tightened.

"I never thought that. No need to be so aggressive."

"Thought? Do you think you're even worth it? You wish!" She sneered, her voice sharp. "Liam told me—being with you back then was just practice. Don't flatter yourself as some hard-to-get first love."

The smile vanished. Her eyes turned venomous, cold like a snake.

"Don't believe me? Try it."

I didn't want to try. I didn't want to fight. I just wanted to finish my last four days quietly and leave with my money.

I shook off her hand, set down the coffee, and turned to leave.

But then, Sandra grabbed the coffee and flipped it over my head. The cold brown liquid drenched me from head to toe.

Even without ice, it still felt like standing in a freezer.

I stood there, taking it, not moving until the last drop was gone.

Shivering, I asked, "Can I go now?"

She tossed the empty cup at me and smiled, satisfied. "Go ahead. But a reminder—sort your trash properly. Garbage belongs in the trash."

A heavy weight pressed on my chest, my breathing rough.

I said nothing and turned around. As I looked up, Liam walked in.

The moment our eyes met—he saw everything. My pathetic state, laid bare.

His jaw clenched, his eyes dimmed, and cold disgust crept in.

That sharp stare cut straight through my heart like a blade.

My throat tightened. I suddenly wanted to cry.

Just then, Sandra grabbed a cup of hot water behind me and splashed it onto my back!

The burning pain made my spine arch. I staggered.

She ran into Liam's arms, acting all innocent. "Liam, I just couldn't help it. She's so disgusting to look at."

His cold gaze swept over me.

Moments later, he spoke. "Yeah. Pretty damn unlucky."

An overwhelming sadness crushed me.

Thoughts spilled out, "I'm dying of cancer. How good am I supposed to look?

"Why me? Why cancer? Why did I have to see Liam again?

"And now, I had to watch him flirt with the person who hurt me the most!"

My chest tightened. Suddenly, I coughed up blood.

Dizziness hit, and I collapsed.

***

When I woke up, I was already lying on a hospital bed.

I forced my eyes open through the searing pain, hearing loud arguing outside the room.

Looking up, I saw my doctor, Hubert Davis, slam a fist straight into Liam's face.

"Liam! Do you even care?! When I handed Gabriella over to you, what did you promise me? You said you'd take care of her!"

He was furious, eyes bloodshot, voice trembling.

"And now you just let Sandra bully her? Do you even know she has cancer..."

Liam wiped the blood from his mouth and suddenly locked eyes with me.

My breath caught. Then I heard him say, "She's the one who kept throwing herself at Sandra. You didn't mind taking my leftovers—fine.

"But whether she lives or dies—it's none of my business."

Every word cut deep, making it hard for me to breathe.

Liam withdrew his cold gaze and turned to leave.

Hubert glanced back, saw my misery, and asked softly, "You heard everything?"

I said nothing. He stepped closer, trying to comfort me.

"Gabriella, I just feel bad for you..."

I cut him off. "Hubert, I'm tired. Can I be alone for a bit?"

He hesitated, then said, "Alright. But if you feel bad, call me. I'm here."

I smiled. "Thank you. I troubled you before, and now I'm still troubling you."

Hubert was my and Liam's senior in college.

When we first met, he didn't know I was dating Liam and confessed to me.

Liam once saw him as a rival.

To avoid trouble, I kept my distance. But three years ago, when I was diagnosed, I found out he was my doctor. That was how we reconnected.

Life is always this unpredictable.

Maybe I was just too heartbroken. And jobless.

This time, my illness came fast and hard. The pain kept hitting. I couldn't even get out of bed, let alone be discharged. Painkillers stopped working.

I threw up blood all night and ended up in the ICU.

After five days of emergency care, I got a little better and moved to a regular room.

When I could finally check my phone, I instinctively opened my beauty account.

It had been renamed to "Liam and Sandra"—now a couple's vlog for them.

Their first video? Posted on October 22.

The title? "Wedding Prep Diary: Trying on the Dress."

That day used to be me and Liam's anniversary.

Sadness swelled inside me. I didn't even dare to click the video. Instead, I opened my cancer account and posted.

"Day 1,042 of fighting the tumor. My three-year-old channel was wiped clean by my first love. Suddenly, I wonder—after I die, will he erase me from his memory too?"

My hands trembled. I couldn't type anymore.

Liam was so cruel. He turned our anniversary into Sandra's. He was still the male lead. But I was no longer his heroine.

***

It was the 20th day of my hospital stay.

Hooked up to IV nutrition, I suddenly got my appetite back.

Hubert said, "That's good. It means your body's bouncing back. Eat whatever you want. You need strength to keep fighting."

I thought of my favorite: Dante's Ravioli.

After giving me another shot, Hubert finally let me leave the hospital alone.

I knew what he gave me—morphine.

I forced myself to the shop. Workers were tearing down the sign. The bold "Dante's Ravioli" letters had smashed into pieces on the ground.

I found the owner. "You're closing?"

He sighed. "Yeah. Someone offered 500,000 dollars to buy the place. He said this shop holds too many disgusting, filthy memories. He wants to tear it down and turn it into a dessert café."

I immediately thought of Liam.

Dessert cafés were Sandra's favorite.

My heart ached like a fine needle—sharp, but faint.

The owner glanced at my skinny frame and swollen belly. He spoke kindly, "Ma'am, craving ravioli because you're pregnant? The kitchen's still here. I can make you one last plate."

I held my belly and shook my head.

"Thank you. I wish you a lifetime of peace."

I used to think "lifetime of peace" sounded corny. But now, standing at the end of my life, nothing means more than peace.

I turned to leave, never telling him I wasn't pregnant. It was ascites.

Before leaving, I snapped a photo of the message wall and posted it on my cancer account.

"Day 1,057 of fighting cancer. I came to the ravioli shop I used to visit with my first love. The message I once wrote—"Let's ride the last train of happiness together till the end"—is gone...

"He's shining in happiness now. As for the last train... I got on alone."

Back at the hospital, the ascites pain was unbearable.

Hubert rushed to get me a treatment order, then stayed with me as we headed to the ultrasound room.

In the waiting hall, I ran into Liam and Sandra.

Liam was holding an ultrasound report. Sandra clung to his arm, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Liam, do you think our baby will be a boy or girl? What should we name it?"

Without thinking, he said, "As long as it's not called Lilla. That name's disgusting."

It felt like a knife slicing straight through me, sharper than the stomach pain.

Lilla was the name I once picked for our future child.

I gripped Hubert's hand tightly. "I don't want the scan anymore. Take me back."

But before we could leave, Sandra spotted me. "Gabriella?"

She pulled Liam along, hurried over, and glanced at my swollen belly, surprised. "It really is you. What a coincidence!

"Gabriella, are you pregnant too? How far along?"

Hubert tried to speak for me, but I stopped him.

I stared at her belly and asked back, "And you?"

"Just three weeks," she said sweetly, hugging Liam. "No wonder you quit your job so suddenly! You were hiding it so well."

I was about to explain, but Liam sneered coldly, his voice sharp as ice. "Of course, she hid it. Shameful things always get hidden."

At that moment, my heart went completely numb. Even the pain seemed to vanish.

Strangely, I felt free. Like I finally let go.

I forced a smile. "Mr. Caillet, not everyone shares your hobby of hiding things."

I was hinting at how he once pretended to be poor.

He caught it, scoffed, and didn't bother to reply. He pulled Sandra away.

Before they got far, I suddenly coughed up a mouthful of dark blood.

Hubert panicked, catching me. "Hang in there!"

But I couldn't anymore. Everything faded to black.

***

When I woke again, I was back in the ICU.

Half-conscious, I vaguely heard Hubert talking to someone.

Helpless and full of regret, he said, "Her body can't handle surgery anymore. This is the end. I won't let her die on the operating table..."

In my head, I silently agreed, "Yeah. I don't want to go on a cold, steel table."

Soon, his voice came again—this time, filled with anger.

"Liam, don't you want to know why Gabriella broke up with you back then? If you really want to know, come to the hospital tomorrow. I'll tell you!"

"I'm not interested."

Liam's reply was cold and distant. I shivered.

That night, fireworks lit up the whole city.

Lying in bed, my dry eyes stared up. I wondered, "Who's celebrating love tonight?"

Maybe countless couples were sealing their first kiss under this grand display.

Just like Liam and I once did.

I couldn't help but murmur, "It's so beautiful."

Even more beautiful than what we once saw. Back then, he promised me a fireworks show just for me. But he gave it to Sandra instead.

In the next second, Sandra's name exploded in the sky.

Silver sparks burst into a sea of stars.

I let out a bitter smile. "So, it's Liam again," I said inwardly.

He really did love Sandra.

Alicia, who was by my side, held my hand. "Gabriella, don't look."

Her eyes were swollen and red. "If you like fireworks, I'll set off a bigger show for you next spring. But you have to get better, okay?"

Hubert quietly appeared too, standing in front of me, cursing under his breath, "That bastard Liam."

I looked up at Hubert and forced a faint smile.

"Hubert... I want to go home."

He stayed silent for a while, then finally agreed, his voice low, "Okay. I'll take you home."

It was the first time he didn't try to persuade me to hold on. But his smile looked worse than crying.

The day before discharge, I raised my phone with shaky hands and snapped a photo of the monitor by my bed. It read, "Gabriella Rochon, 28 years and 28 days old."

Then I opened my cancer account. I wanted to crop out my name. Maybe write something.

But I was too weak. My finger slipped and hit send.

Hubert arrived. Today, he wasn't in a white coat. He wore a white shirt, just as he did when we first met.

"Alicia went to get the car. I'll carry you over."

I didn't have the strength to respond. I just gave a pale smile.

He carefully scooped me up. I leaned quietly into his broad, warm chest.

His heart was pounding. Fast and strong.

The rhythm was oddly calming. It made me sleepy.

"Gabriella, don't sleep. Stay with me."

I smiled faintly, fighting to keep my eyes open. I thought, "I won't sleep yet. I haven't said goodbye to Liam... not properly..."

I won't sleep. But I'm so tired. And it hurts so much.

Maybe if I sleep, the pain will go away.

Just for a little while... a little while...

***

At the end of the hallway, Liam saw Gabriella asleep in Hubert's arms.

His face instantly darkened.

He thought he must've lost his mind for listening to Hubert and coming here for the so-called truth.

As Liam turned sharply to leave, those pale hands in Hubert's arms suddenly went limp...

He didn't see it. He didn't hear Hubert choke out, head lowered, "Rest in peace, Gabriella."

Back at the office, Liam summoned his assistant.

"Blacklist Gabriella!

"Any company that hires her—crush them!"

She played him again. This time, she'd pay!

Three days after Gabriella was blacklisted, her cancer account suddenly hit the trending search.

"Cancer Blogger Marmalade Stops Updating, Suspected to Have Passed Away. Netizens Dig Up First Love: Suspected the Caillet Group CEO, Liam Caillet!"

Liam saw it too. He frowned and clicked into the account.

"Day 1020: Doctor says it'll hurt more as it progresses. But I still want to hold on."

"Day 932: A fellow patient passed today. He said his biggest fear was being forgotten. But me... I hope my first love forgets me, yet I fear he really will. Am I stupid?"

"Day 133: Do you know why my username is Marmalade? Because his favorite fruit is orange. The doctor says my condition is terrible. But I'll fight this rotten body to the end!"

"Day 10: Broke up with my first love. His family's just as poor as mine. I can't drag him down too."

***

The more he read, the more familiar it felt. The "first love" in her posts was him.

Just then, his office door opened.

"Mr. Caillet, while sorting through our accounts, we found that Gabriella's ID is linked to another account—Marmalade. It's the same one trending right now."