I am a psychological counselor, and that day, the arrival of a beautiful patient made me begin to question my life. Through several encounters, I learned about her past and found myself pulled into her world. Just as the clock hit 2:00 PM, there was a knock at the door. I said, "Come in," and first heard the steady sound of high heels. I followed the sound and saw a pair of dark high heels that transitioned from red to purple. Moving up, there were long, straight legs, and my gaze couldn't help but continue upward, tracing the curves of her figure, finally resting on her exquisite face. Our eyes met, and I cleared my throat, gesturing for her to sit down. I glanced through her file, looking at the girl named Wendy sitting comfortably in front of me with her legs crossed. The air was filled with a faint scent of perfume. She was the first to speak, asking, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

Jade, a recent widow, was confronted with an unexpected situation on her first day of mourning. Her stepson, Zane, brought home a woman three years her senior, Yvonne, with the intention of providing Jade with care in her old age. He threatened, "Mom, your backer is dead. You better behave and serve Yvonne. Don't force me to disregard our familial bond." Jade found this amusing. Even the designer shorts he was wearing were purchased with a fraction of the billions she had just inherited. Who gave him the audacity to challenge her, Beyoncé?

I spent two years doting on Zane, and on the day of our first anniversary, he cheated on me. The person he cheated with was none other than my dear sister, who had just returned from treatment abroad. Watching them being all lovey-dovey, I tossed the anniversary gift I had prepared for Zane into the trash and left without a backward glance. He called me, asking, "Baby, why haven't you given me our anniversary gift yet?" I replied calmly, without a hint of emotion, "Oh, there isn't one. Let's break up; I'm tired of this."

I'm a survivor of a serial murder case, and later, I willingly became a victim, marrying the killer. My husband secretly bought another apartment in this neighborhood, right across from ours. Inside that apartment, there was a woman covered in scars. How did I know? Because I had been observing his every move.

I had sponsored a student from a poor family. She took advantage of my absence and started an affair with my husband, Gavin. She even taunted me repeatedly. But I wasn't worried in the slightest because the entire company was mine!

"Ms. Taylor, is it? How many boyfriends have you had?" He leaned on his hand, bare-chested, gazing at me with a flirtatious smile. I averted my eyes, trying not to be swayed by his devastatingly handsome looks. "The... first one." He leaned closer and kissed me. "And the last." That scoundrel Chris...

"Don't go to the basement." That's what my parents told me from the time I was little. Because there was a *thing* locked up down there. But the thing told me… *he* was my real father! And the two people upstairs… were murderers! "Hiss… hiss…" A strange sound drifted up from the basement. Mom looked up at the clock. It was exactly 10:00 PM. She murmured, "Time for his medicine." Then, she walked away with a white pill bottle.

After a long day of honest work, I was cornered in the parking garage. My assailant? Our CEO. He pinned my hands behind my back, his voice a menacing whisper against my ear, "Mila, will you finally agree to let me be your dog?"

Terrifying! My new neighbor sneaked into my house in the middle of the night. What is she up to? At three in the morning, I was half-asleep when I suddenly heard the electronic door lock in the living room making noises. "Incorrect password." "Please re-enter the password." I froze, and all my sleepiness vanished. I live alone, so who could be trying to open my door at this hour?

“Babe, look at the lingerie I just bought. Isn't it pretty?” “...Molly, black isn't your color.” Huh? Calling me by my full name? I froze. The moment I saw the contact name, I crumbled. Asking online: What should I do if I accidentally sent a sexy photo meant for my best friend to my ex-boyfriend?