Page 38 of What Goes Around

She crouched beside my bed again, perfume thick enough to choke me.

“You should see my life now,” she whispered. “Penthouse view. Designer brands. Millions of followers. Everyone adores me. Mom says she’s proud.”

“Stop… please…”

“You know she never loved you, right? No matter what you did, she never would. Have you really never wondered why?”

Something inside me cracked. “Why?” I whispered. “What did I do?”

For a split second, something flickered across her face.

Then she let out a quiet, breathy laugh.

“God,” she murmured, almost to herself. “All those years…”

Her eyes snapped back to mine.

Hatred burned there.

“It should have been you.”

My brows pulled together. “What…?”“

“She saw him,” she said suddenly, her voice tightening. “That man. She saw him watching us.”

“She knew something was wrong,” she went on, faster now. “And she still—”

Her voice broke, then sharpened again, almost feral.

“She wanted him to take you. You. Not me.”

I stared at her, my mind blank, unable to process the words.

“It was supposed to be you,” she snapped.

And then she kept talking.

Words poured out of her, sharp and fast, each one landing, each one clear, but my mind lagged behind.

“…that day…”

“…she said…”

“…would have been easier…”

Then Apple’s phone chimed.

It cut straight through her rant.

She glanced down at it, and just like that, her expression smoothed out. The anger vanished, replaced with that same polished calm.

“Look at the time,” she said lightly. “I wish I could drag this out longer, but I can’t risk anyone finding my dirty little secret.”

She gave me one last clinical look.

“Don’t worry,” she added. “I’ll make sure no one ever finds you. You’ll just be another forgotten unsolved case.”

I tried to move. To crawl. To reach her. To fight.