Chapter 2

The party was in full swing, a sea of polite chatter and clinking champagne flutes in Eleanor' s perfectly manicured garden. Everyone who was anyone in her social circle was there, admiring the blooming roses and the woman who cultivated them. Eleanor glided through the crowd, a vision in white, her smile perfectly practiced. To everyone else, she was the benevolent matriarch, the doting adoptive mother celebrating her daughter. I knew better. I saw the predator beneath the silk dress.

Ethan was there, of course, looking handsome and blissfully unaware, with Bethany clinging to his arm. She wore a dress that was a size too small and a shade too bright, her eyes scanning the crowd, not for friends, but for opportunities. She was an influencer in search of influence, and this party was prime content. Every smile she gave was for an invisible camera.

Then came the moment I was waiting for.

Eleanor tapped a crystal glass with a silver spoon, silencing the crowd. "If I could have everyone's attention," she began, her voice radiating warmth that didn't reach her eyes. "Today is a very special day. It' s my darling Chloe' s 25th birthday."

All eyes turned to me. I smiled, a small, controlled expression I had practiced in the mirror that morning.

"Chloe, you are my greatest joy," Eleanor continued, her voice thick with fake emotion. "You' ve grown into such a brilliant, successful young woman, and I couldn't be prouder. To mark this milestone, I wanted to give you something truly special. Something as unique as you are."

A servant brought forward a velvet box. Eleanor opened it with a flourish. Inside, nestled on a bed of black satin, was the smartwatch. It looked just as I remembered, ancient and menacing, its dark wood band seeming to drink the sunlight. The crowd murmured in appreciation. It looked priceless, a museum piece.

Eleanor unclasped it and reached for my wrist. "Happy birthday, my love."

I pulled my hand back. The movement was small, but in the sudden silence, it felt like a gunshot.

"Mother," I said, my voice steady. "It' s beautiful. But it's too much. I can't accept it."

Eleanor' s smile tightened at the edges. "Nonsense, darling. You deserve it."

"No, really," I insisted, keeping my tone light. "It's an antique, it belongs in a museum, not on my wrist while I'm coding. I'd be terrified of breaking it."

Before Eleanor could argue, Bethany' s sharp voice cut through the air.

"Of course she doesn't want it," she said with a bitter laugh, loud enough for everyone to hear. "When you have everything, what's one more expensive gift?"

Ethan looked mortified. "Bethany, don't."

"What?" she shot back, yanking her arm from his. "It's true! Eleanor gives Chloe everything. A car for graduation, a down payment on her apartment, and now this... this museum piece! What do we get, Ethan? A gift certificate to a steakhouse?"

The air grew thick with tension. Guests shifted uncomfortably. This was the opening I needed.

Eleanor' s face was a mask of polite fury. She was losing control of the narrative. This public display of jealousy was not part of her plan.

"Bethany, that is quite enough," Eleanor said, her voice dangerously low.

I saw the flicker of panic in her eyes. It wasn't just about the scene Bethany was causing. It was about the watch. She needed it on my wrist. I could feel her desperation like a physical force.

As she spoke, a memory, sharp and unwelcome, flashed through my mind. I was in the attic, my body shriveled and weak. My hands were gnarled claws, my hair a few pathetic white strands on my scalp. I had begged her for a doctor, for help.

Eleanor had looked down at me, her own face glowing with stolen vitality. There was no pity in her eyes, only cold, clinical assessment.

"It's better this way, Chloe," she had told me, her voice devoid of any warmth. "You're safe here. The world is too much for you now."

She had locked the door, leaving me alone in the dark with the dust and the spiders and the slow, creeping certainty that I was going to die there. She wasn't protecting me, she was caging her power source.

The memory vanished as quickly as it came, leaving a block of ice in my chest. I looked at the watch in its box, then at Bethany' s greedy, envious face. The plan was simple. The plan was perfect.

I would not let her lock me in that attic again. I would not let her drain my life for her own vanity.

I took a deep breath and turned to Eleanor, my face a picture of serene resolve.

"Mother," I said gently. "I appreciate the thought more than you know. But my mind is made up."

I looked at the two women who had orchestrated my death, their faces masks of rage and panic. They thought they were in control. They had no idea that the game had changed, and I was the one making the rules now. This time, the trap wasn't for me.