AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I nod. And then I shake my head.
“Would you like me to call Mr. Sullivan?”
I pounce on his hand before he can reach for the phone. Shaking my head desperately, I sign, “I’ll figure this out. Just… take me home. Please.”
He agrees and slips back into the driver’s seat.
As the car starts again, I scroll through my profile. There. A tight shot of me, smiling brightly. My hand is touching the scarf I got from a brand we’re working with and, beneath the photo, I tagged the company and gave details on where the scarf could be purchased.
Everyone is saying that the purse was Ru-Carpsel, but I didn’t even highlight the purse in this shot.
Am I missing something?
Bracing myself for the vitriol waiting in my comments, I scroll through all the hate until I find a review that tags the account where I endorsed Ru-Carpsel.
The picture fills my screen in an instant.
It’s real. That’s my face.
Except it’s not really me. At least, not my official account.
Yaya Fashion Brand
What?
I have no idea who this is. Have I been scammed?
I scroll through the Yaya Fashion Brand account. I so badly want this to be a Photoshop copy or illegal AI usage of my pictures, but I recognize each of those settings and outfits. I remember all those accessories—the ones I now know were Ru-Carpsel.
A sinking feeling floods my stomach.
I wish I’d been scammed.
I wish hackers had gotten into my social media and played this sick, cruel trick on me.
But the truth is so much worse.
* * *
José stops the car in front of Henry’s apartment, but I don’t immediately climb out. I just sit there, wishing I didn’t have to climb up those steps. Wishing I was anywhere but here.
I notice José eyeing me in the rearview mirror, but he doesn’t try to quicken me out of the car. Maybe he can tell that my world is crashing around me.
Maybe he can feel my pain.
Oh, this hurts.
My ribs are caving in, smothering my heart.
My legs are heavy.
Come on, Yaya. Maybe Henry has a good explanation.
I know that’s a lie. I know there’s nothing Henry could say that would make this betrayal sting any less, but it’s what I need to believe right now. Or else I won’t ever leave this car.
José sees me scooting to the door and he hops out. In a flash, he’s opening my door for me.
If I were in my right mind, I’d probably ask if he used to run track. He’s so fast that I barely see him moving around the car.
