Chapter 2

A few days later, the house was quiet. Mr. and Mrs. Davenport were away on business.

Tori was napping, or so I thought.

I was polishing silver in the dining room, a mindless task.

Then I heard voices from the adjoining sunroom, where Tori often took calls. Chloe Vance, her best friend, was with her.

Their laughter, sharp and cruel, drifted through the slightly ajar door.

"He's just so... eager," Chloe said, her voice dripping with amusement. "Still fetching your 'special' pills after all this time."

"Ninety-eight times, can you believe it?" Tori's voice was light, playful. "He actually keeps count, the poor fool."

My hands froze on the silver pitcher.

Poor fool.

"It' s almost too easy, Tori. Five years. You've really outdone yourself with this one. Julian Hayes would be impressed by your dedication to revenge."

Julian Hayes. Her college boyfriend. The one she said I' d driven away with some clumsy, public mistake I barely remembered, a spilled drink at a gallery opening, a moment of social awkwardness that had mortified her. She claimed it cost her him, and a prestigious art fellowship.

My heart began to pound, a sick, heavy rhythm.

"He ruined my life, Chloe. My future with Julian, my fellowship. This is nothing compared to what he cost me."

"Still, five years of playing the helpless cripple? That' s commitment."

"He deserves it. Every second. And it' s been... satisfying, watching him dote on me, believing his devotion means something."

A cold wave washed over me.

No. It couldn' t be.

"So, what' s next? Are you ever going to tell him?" Chloe asked.

Tori laughed, a sound that was no longer beautiful, but chilling. "Oh, I have something special planned for the 99th game. You' ll help, of course. It needs to be unforgettable."

"Unforgettable? Ooh, I like the sound of that. What are you thinking?"

"Something that will truly break him," Tori said, her voice soft, laced with venom. "Something he' ll never recover from."

I couldn't breathe.

The silver pitcher slipped from my numb fingers, clattering loudly on the parquet floor.

Silence from the sunroom.

Then, Tori' s voice, sharp, annoyed. "Ethan? Is that you? What was that noise?"

I stood there, the overheard words echoing in my head.

A sham.

Five years a sham.

My love, my devotion, my hope – all built on a lie. A game.

A punishment.