For my best friend's birthday, the five of us chartered a helicopter to the snowy mountains to catch the sunrise. Mid-flight, the pilot suddenly screamed at us that the hydraulics were failing and we had to jump immediately. My childhood friend, Julian, shoved a parachute pack into my arms. "Elara, you jump first! You're the lightest!" My blood brother, Cassius, fastened the straps against my chest and pushed me toward the open door. "I know you're terrified of heights. Just close your eyes and jump, we'll be right behind you!" Serena, my best friend and the pampered mafia princess they all adored, stood in the corner, wiping away fake tears and nodding at me encouragingly. Then, Dante, the mafia Don I had loved for seven years, gently squeezed my trembling hand. "I made a promise to your father," he murmured, his dark eyes locked onto mine. "I promised I would always let you walk ahead of me." Trusting them with my life, I bit my lip, closed my eyes, and threw myself into the freezing abyss. The moment the howling wind tore at my ears, I pulled the ripcord. But a life-saving canopy didn't bloom above me. Instead, a shower of colorful confetti exploded into the freezing air, followed by a mocking banner that snapped violently in the wind: [Acrophobia Desensitization Challenge: SUCCESS!] Through my earpiece, their deafening laughter echoed from the perfectly safe cabin. Julian was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. "I told you! Compared to her fear of heights, she's definitely more afraid of dying!" Then came Dante's voice. "Don't be angry, Elara. We're just playing a little joke on you. The backup chute is on the left ring behind your back. We'll come find you in a minute." Trembling, I reached behind me, my fingers frantically clawing at the left side of the pack. There was no metal ring. The entire pack was completely hollow, stuffed with nothing but cheap white packing foam. They succeeded. I had truly conquered my paralyzing fear of heights. The only price was that I would never live to see tomorrow's sunrise. Chapter 1 Elara POV "It's empty!" I screamed in despair into the microphone, facing the biting wind. The weightlessness of the freefall violently yanked at my internal organs. The chill of the snowy mountains sliced through my windpipe like a razor. Only a few seconds of static answered me through the earpiece. Then came Julian's heartless laughter. "Elara, you can't even come up with a decent lie to avoid a jump?" His voice, transmitted from thousands of feet above, dripped with condescending mockery. I frantically clawed at my back. My fingers scraped against the rough canvas, my nails bending backward until harsh streaks of blood seeped out. There was really nothing. Only a soft wad of packing foam. "Cassius..." my voice trembled violently, choked with tears. "Brother, save me. I can't find the ring. The pack is empty!" A cold, impatient snort came through the radio from Cassius. "We watched you put that pack on with our own eyes. How could it be empty?" he reprimanded harshly. "When are you going to drop this pathetic, attention-seeking act? If Serena hadn't suggested this sink-or-swim method to cure you, were you planning to drag the family down forever?" His every word hit me like a sledgehammer, smashing into my rapidly freezing body. My tears were instantly dried by the wind. My body fell like a broken ragdoll, plummeting straight toward the black canopy of the primeval forest. Right on cue, Serena's soft, sweet voice chimed in. "Elara, just close your eyes and feel the wind, okay? This is a really wonderful birthday gift, and I hope you can enjoy it with me." I kept my eyes wide open. The cold, jagged branches of the deadwoods were rapidly expanding in my vision. "Dante." I called out to the last person. The name of the man I had loved for seven years. "Save me." Dante sighed heavily on the other end, exactly like a man coaxing a deeply unreasonable child. "Enough, Elara," his tone revealed absolute iciness. "The tracker shows you're about to land in the safe zone of the forest. Send a flare when you touch down, and we'll come pick you up immediately. Be a good girl and don't ruin Serena's mood." The communication channel was unilaterally cut by him. In the last second, the sound of the wind completely stopped. A massive tree trunk pierced straight through my chest. The sound of bones shattering was exceptionally crisp in the dead silence of the snowy abyss. There was no pain at all. Because the speed was too fast. I just felt my body become light, like a wisp of smoke. At the exact moment my consciousness detached, I saw my own broken body. Like a violently pinned butterfly, I was suspended on a few sharp, barren branches. Blood dripped down the trunk, smashing into the pristine white snow and melting horrifying, dark red holes. My soul drifted upward slowly, passing through the clouds, until I returned to the helicopter that was supposedly 'failing and crashing.' There was no smoke in the cabin. No warning lights were flashing. The pilot who had just been screaming at us took off his headset, smiling as he accepted a thick stack of cash handed over by Julian. "Brilliant acting, bosses," the pilot flattered. "That girl's face went completely pale when she jumped." Julian smirked triumphantly. "If we didn't force her hand, she wouldn't even dare to stand on a second-floor balcony." Serena held a cup of hot coffee, leaning timidly against Cassius's side. "Do you think Elara was really crying? I'm a little worried about her." Cassius patted her hair gently. "Let her cry. It's better than her using her fear of heights as an excuse to monopolize Dante all day." Dante sat in the outermost seat, holding the blinking red tracker in his hand. He glanced at the screen, confirming the red dot had stopped at the edge of the primeval forest. Carelessly, he pressed the comms button. "Elara." "Report back if you've landed safely."

Elara POV No one answered. Only the howling wind of the snowy peaks echoed through the comms. Dante frowned slightly, turning up the volume. "Elara, are you still throwing a tantrum?" I floated right beside him, watching his sharply defined fingers gripping the microphone. I wanted to tell him I wasn't throwing a tantrum. I was just hanging from a tree, my windpipe completely pierced by a branch, unable to make a single sound. When no response came, Julian let out a scoff. "Great, the princess attitude strikes again. She's probably sitting in the snow right now, waiting for us to carry her back." Cassius's face darkened. "Ignore her. Today is Serena's birthday, why should everyone revolve around her?" The helicopter touched down smoothly at a heavily guarded luxury safe-camp in the snowy valley. This was the celebration spot they had chosen long ago. Tents, a roaring bonfire, fresh flowers, and even a windproof champagne tower were already set up. They stepped out of the chopper, laughing and talking. The pilot collected the rest of his hush money and immediately flew the helicopter back to the base. Standing in the biting blizzard, Dante pulled out his phone. He opened my chat and sent a voice note. His tone was stiff and cold, giving me a ten-minute ultimatum to walk back to the camp. "If we don't see you in ten minutes, we're leaving you right here," he warned coldly. Serena walked up to him, cautiously tugging at his sleeve. "Dante, is Elara really mad at me? Actually, I think the joke went a little too far..." Dante immediately held her hand in return, his expression softening instantly. "Don't worry about her," he reassured her softly. "She's just using this trick to fight for my attention." I watched their intertwined fingers, my heart completely devoid of any ripples. I wasn't shocked, nor was I angry; there was only a profound, deathly numbness. If it had been in the past, hearing those words would have kept me awake all night in sadness. I would have reflected on whether I was truly being unreasonable. I would have explained to him over and over again that I wasn't trying to fight for favor. I was just genuinely terrified. Three years ago, the Syndicate was ambushed by a rival cartel high in the treacherous border mountains. The deafening crack of gunfire exploded from every direction. Cassius and Dante instantly flanked Serena, using their own bodies to tightly shield her fragile frame. They sprinted toward the extraction point without a single backward glance, leaving me entirely behind at the rear, all alone. A stray bullet shattered the rocks near my feet. I lost my footing and tumbled backward off the jagged cliff. My fingers desperately clawed onto a thick, rough tree root jutting out over the abyss. Beneath my feet was a pitch-black, bottomless drop. I hung there in mid-air, screaming until my voice gave out. It wasn't until the next morning that the Syndicate's search team finally found me. By the time I was pulled up, my fingers were mangled and bloody, and I was in a coma from a severe fever. When I woke up in the underground clinic, only Julian was in the room, frantically mashing buttons on a handheld video game. But Cassius and Dante weren't there at all; they were in the next room. Just because Serena had caught a chill and developed a mild fever, they stayed up the entire night, holding her hand in deep anxiety. "Elara, can you watch your step next time?" Julian complained. "You just had to fall off a cliff at a time like this, ruining everyone's sleep." From that day forward, I developed severe acrophobia and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Even just standing on a second-floor balcony would make my whole body tremble and break out in a cold sweat. But they never believed it was a real illness. In their eyes, it was just a manipulative trick—a pathetic act I put on to gain sympathy and steal the spotlight from Serena. Back in the camp, the bonfire was roaring. Cassius brought out an elaborate fondant cake with the number '22' in glowing candles. "Serena, make a wish." Serena pressed her palms together and closed her eyes, the candlelight reflecting softly on her flushed cheeks. Dante cut the first slice of cake topped with a strawberry, and handed the cream-filled paper plate to Serena. "Happy birthday."

Elara POV As night fell over the mountains, the temperature in the snowy peaks plummeted, and the wind howled like a wild beast. I hovered above the campfire, watching the dancing orange flames. I couldn't feel the temperature, but I knew my corpse must be freezing. The deadwoods where I fell rarely saw sunlight, and the snow was knee-deep. My blood had probably already frozen into dark red ice shards. In the camp, they had changed into heavy polar tactical jackets. Julian rubbed his freezing hands and threw a piece of firewood into the flames. "Elara is really stubborn. It's freezing out there, and she's still holding out instead of crawling back to beg for mercy." Cassius's face was dark. He glanced at his luxury watch; it was eight o'clock at night. "She's doing this on purpose to disgust us," Cassius said coldly. "She knows it's Serena's birthday today, so she has to use these underhanded disappearing tricks to ruin the mood." Dante leaned back in his folding chair, his brow furrowed tightly. He picked up his phone and dialed my number. The screen lit up, and I saw the name he had saved for me: The Burden. "The subscriber you have dialed is currently unreachable." The robotic female voice was exceptionally piercing in the quiet camp. Frustrated, Dante threw the phone back onto the table, producing a dull thud. "Let her be," Dante snapped. "Let her freeze in the snow for a night and suffer a bit. Otherwise, she'll always think the whole planet revolves around her." Suddenly, Serena sneezed. Cassius immediately took off his heavy winter coat and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders. Julian hurried to grab the thermos. "The temperature drop in this hellhole is too extreme. I'll pour you a cup of hot water." Dante stood up, walked briskly to the supply tent, and brought back a whole pack of thermal hand warmers. They were originally prepared specifically for me. He ripped the packaging open and personally pressed the warmers into Serena's palms. Serena held the warmers, looking at him timidly. "Dante, aren't these Elara's? If she comes back later and sees me using her things, she'll definitely throw a fit again." Dante let out a cold sneer. "Does she even have the right to throw a fit?" Dante said harshly. "We went to such great lengths to hire actors to help her overcome her psychological barriers. And what does she do? She plays the ungrateful victim and goes off the grid." I looked at the warmers pressed against Serena's palms. It reminded me of the Syndicate's Winter Survival Trial last winter. It was also in the snowy mountains. It was also the four of them. Serena had accidentally sprained her ankle, crying from the pain. Cassius, Dante, and Julian took turns carrying her on their backs as they hiked back. I walked at the very end of the line. My altitude sickness was severe; with every step, my heart felt like it was going to explode. I coughed up a mouthful of blood-streaked phlegm. I grabbed Dante's sleeve, begging him to slow down. Dante turned around, his eyes full of absolute disgust. "Elara, can you stop playing the fragile victim?" he reprimanded. "Serena really can't walk anymore. Can't you be a little more mature?" He violently shook off my hand. I stumbled and fell hard into the snow. They didn't even look back. I crawled alone in the sub-zero blizzard for four agonizing hours. By the time I made it back to camp, two of my toes were severely frostbitten and had lost all sensation, ultimately requiring the removal of necrotic tissue. But no one cared. They were all gathered around Serena, looking heartbroken over a bruise on her ankle the size of a fingernail. The campfire crackled. Julian took a sip of hot soup and suddenly laughed. "Do you guys think Elara is hiding in some tree hollow crying her eyes out right now? When we head down the mountain tomorrow, she'll definitely be following us in disgrace." Cassius chimed in coldly: "No one is allowed to talk to her tomorrow. We have to teach her a lesson."