How Does Any Way The Wind Blows End In The Book?

When a hurricane comes, my husband, the leader of a rescue team, takes away everything we've stored at home so he can save his true love. I plead, "Leave some for me. I'm pregnant." He shakes me off. "How can you be so evil? The windows at Lottie's home have already been blown away. Don't tell me you're going to sit by and watch her die! She's not like you—you're not afraid of everything. The hurricane will be over soon, so you won't need any of this stuff." After that, he leaves without another look back. What he doesn't know is that there's also a crack in our home's windows.

When war broke out in Irestan, my fiancé, Everett Jones, caused a scene at the airport and refused to let the evacuation flight take off. He was determined to wait for his precious first love, Annie Scott, who had taken advantage of the chaos to loot a cosmetics counter for luxury goods. By then, the insurgent forces were already closing in. The shriek of explosions grew louder, drawing nearer by the second. With an entire plane full of people in mortal danger, I had no choice. I knocked Everett unconscious and dragged him aboard. After we returned home, far from the battlefield, we lived a period of quiet, comfortable happiness. I truly believed he had finally put that woman behind him. I was wrong. On our wedding day, he tied me up, drove me away, and deliberately crashed the car, killing me. As my life slipped away, I heard his twisted laughter. "Daniela, you're the one who killed my Annie. Because of you, she was killed by an insurgent missile. "She was just a young girl who liked to look pretty. What was so wrong with that? "This is what you owe her. I'm going to make you suffer far more than she ever did." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the boarding gate, at the exact moment he blocked the plane. This time, I chose to grant his wish and let him stay behind with his beloved first love, together, forever.

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.

When my boyfriend hit the elevator button for my best friend's floor by mistake for the ninety-ninth time, he shot me an accusing look. "Why didn't you remind me? Forget it. Since we're already here, I might as well replace Gem's light bulb." I froze, then forced a thin smile. It was that line again. "Since we're already here." Ever since Gem Shaw moved into the apartment upstairs a year ago, my boyfriend Simon Lawson, had pressed the wrong floor every single time. When we were supposed to watch a movie together, he carried the milkshake to Gem's door and knocked. When my fever wouldn't break and I asked him to bring me medicine, he brought it to Gem's place instead because she had cramps. Our date for two became a movie for three, and my fever medicine became painkillers. Even on my birthday, he carried the cake to Gem's place. "Since we're already here, might as well celebrate your ten years of friendship." "Since we're already here, I might as well fix Gem's clogged drain for her." As I watched him walk into Gem's apartment without looking back, I silently pressed the close-door button. He had already forgotten that today was the day my lease ended, and it was also the day I was moving out. Since he was already here, he didn't need to come back to me.

On our third wedding anniversary, I waited for Xander Christian for five hours at his favorite restaurant. Once again, he has disappeared. In the end, I found out where he went on the social media of his childhood sweetheart, Josie Law. He took her to Antartrica. [I just said I was in a bad mood, so he ditched the whole world just to cheer me up. Turns out, he cheers me up much more than the penguins.] In the photos, it was all icy and frosty, but he held her gently in his arms. I had never seen such blazing warmth in his eyes. Not once was it ever directed at me. At that moment, I was just tired. I was too tired to question. I was too tired to fight. I was too tired to cry. I simply liked the post and sent him a short message, [Let's get a divorce.] A long time later, he finally replied with a voice message, his tone was full of careless amusement, "Sure. I'll sign the papers when I'm back. We'll see who ends up begging me not to leave." Those who were loved and favored were often fearless. He didn't believe my words at all. Yet, Xander— No one was truly indispensable. People would only stay because they were in love. From this moment on, I no longer loved you.

On my eighteenth birthday, my brother Seth brought back my twin sister. She had been snatched from me by kidnappers as a child. She claimed she had nothing, not a single thing to call her own. Seth gave her everything: my room, my dresses, and my awards. He even gave her my childhood fiancé, forcing him to break off our engagement and marry her in a wedding that would take the world by storm. I tried to resist, but Seth scolded me for being childish. "She's your blood sister, yet you complain about every little thing. If you can't learn to be kind, I can't call you my sister anymore." My sister, Serena, fell into the swimming pool later that day and nearly drowned. When she woke up, she cried to our brother, claiming I had pushed her. My brother, Seth, was furious. He sent me away to a remote mountain village. "If you can't learn to be kind, you'll spend the rest of your life here, atoning for your sins. "You can come back only when you kneel before Serena and apologize." Five years passed. Serena and my fiancé held a high-profile engagement ceremony. The entire city celebrated their grand love, certain they would have a happily ever after together. Then, Seth finally remembered me. "Sylvie, five years have passed. Have you learned kindness yet?" I nodded calmly with a blank expression on my face. "Seth, I will kneel before her and apologize." He smiled, praising me for finally being sensible. However, he did not know that I had received a critical medical notice. I had only five days left to live.