Chapter 3

Jessica pushed off the doorframe, her smile gone, replaced by a flicker of annoyance.

"You always did have a thing for him, didn't you?" she said, her voice now sharp. "Even when he couldn't remember you. Pathetic, really."

I kept packing. Silence was my best defense.

She walked closer. "He never cared about you, Sarah. Not really. Wren? That was just a sick man's fantasy."

Her words were meant to cut, but they glanced off the new stillness inside me.

"He's with me now," she pressed, her voice rising. "And there's nothing you can do about it."

She was trying to provoke a fight, to create a scene.

I zipped my bag. "I know, Jessica."

I turned to leave the room.

She grabbed my arm, her nails digging in. "Don't you walk away from me!"

Her eyes were blazing. This was the real Jessica, the one I knew.

"Let go of me, Jessica," I said, my voice low.

"Or what? You'll tell Ethan? He won't believe you. He never believes you."

She was right.

We were near the penthouse's indoor lap pool, a sleek, modern monstrosity.

She suddenly stumbled, pulling me off balance.

Her grip was like iron.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, trying to regain my footing.

Then, with a theatrical scream, "Sarah, no! Don't push me!"

She lurched, yanking me with her.

We both tumbled into the shallow end of the pool with a splash.

The water was cold, shocking.

I came up sputtering, my hair plastered to my face.

Jessica was already screaming, "She attacked me! Ethan, help! Sarah tried to drown me!"

Ethan burst into the pool area, his face a mask of fury.

He saw Jessica thrashing in the water, her face contorted in terror. He saw me, dripping and stunned.

He didn't hesitate.

He waded in, scooped Jessica into his arms, and carried her out, his eyes blazing at me.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he roared.

My parents rushed in, drawn by the commotion.

"Sarah! How could you?" Linda shrieked.

"She's always been jealous!" Richard thundered.

Jessica, safe in Ethan's arms, sobbed, "She just... she pushed me. I don't know why she hates me so much."

Lies. All lies.

"I didn't push her," I said, my voice trembling despite myself. "She pulled me in."

"Enough!" Ethan cut me off, his voice like ice. "I saw you, Sarah. I saw you struggling with her."

He believed her. Of course, he did.

"We're calling the police," Richard declared. "Assault. This time you've gone too far."

Linda chimed in, "And a psychiatric evaluation. Clearly, she's unstable."

My heart sank. They would do it. They would ruin me completely.

Ethan looked at me, his face hard. "Unless. Unless you publicly apologize to Jessica at the engagement party tonight. And then you leave town. Immediately. No more trouble."

It was an ultimatum. My public humiliation for my freedom.

Trapped. Again.

But this time, freedom meant something different. It meant escaping them, all of them, for good.

I looked at their triumphant faces. Jessica's tear-streaked, victorious smirk. Ethan's cold disgust. My parents' righteous anger.

"Fine," I said, the word barely a whisper. "I agree."

The engagement party was an opulent nightmare.

Crystal chandeliers glittered. Champagne flowed. The murmur of polite society filled the grand ballroom of the Ashford city residence.

Ethan presented Jessica with a new sports car, keys dangling from his fingers, and a diamond bracelet that had belonged to his grandmother.

Guests whispered as I stood by the wall, a pariah in a borrowed dress. "That's the sister, Sarah... so troubled... jealous of Jessica, you know..."

I wore the antique silver compass charm on a thin chain around my neck. Wren's compass.

As Ethan passed me, his eyes snagged on it.

A flicker of something – confusion? – crossed his face. "That compass... it looks familiar."

My breath caught. Did he remember?

Before I could speak, Jessica was there, her hand on his arm, her voice bright and brittle.

"Oh, this old thing!" she trilled, touching the compass lightly. "It was a trinket my great-aunt gave me. Sarah must have swiped it from my jewelry box again, darling. She has such sticky fingers for my things."

My mother, Linda, materialized beside her. "Jessica, honey, you're too generous. Sarah, you know better than to take your sister's heirlooms."

Richard Miller added his stern disapproval. "Sarah, apologize. For causing a scene and upsetting everyone."

Their united front was seamless, practiced.

Ethan's brief moment of uncertainty vanished, replaced by cold conviction.

"You're an embarrassment," he said to me, his voice low and cutting. "If you can't behave, you're not welcome."

Richard Miller, seizing the moment, raised his voice, addressing the nearby guests. "We've tried with Sarah, but her jealousy towards Jessica is just too much. For everyone's sake, it's best she leaves for that special art program. A fresh start, away from all this."

Public shaming. My penance.

This was the new whipping.

I looked at Ethan. His face was set, convinced.

He believed them.

Of course, he did.

The compass felt cold against my skin.