Chapter 3

The party was my personal hell.

My parents had made me go.

"The Petersons invited us personally, Sarah," my mom had said, her voice tight with anxiety. "We can't be rude."

So I went.

I wore my best dress, a simple blue one that made me feel even more out of place among the designer labels and sparkling jewelry.

The party in my first life was just like this one.

Loud, crowded, and fake.

Tiffany was the center of it all, a radiant sun, and I was a speck of dust in her orbit.

That night, she made it her mission to humiliate me.

It started when she "accidentally" bumped into me, sending a full glass of dark red wine down the front of my blue dress.

"Oh my god, Sarah! I am so, so sorry!" she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in a perfect imitation of shock.

Her friends giggled behind her.

The dark stain spread across the fabric, cold and sticky against my skin.

I just stood there, speechless.

"Here," Tiffany said, pulling a wad of cash from her father's wallet, which he handed over with a proud smile. "This should be enough to buy a new one. Get something nice for yourself. You deserve it."

She pressed the bills into my hand.

It was two hundred dollars.

More than my dress was worth.

More than my family spent on groceries in a week.

It wasn't an apology.

It was a statement.

It was her showing everyone that she could ruin something of mine and replace it with pocket change.

It was her reminding me of the vast, uncrossable distance between her world and mine.

Her friends closed in.

"Wow, Tiff, you're so generous," one said.

"She didn't have to do that," said another, "It was just an accident."

They stared at me, waiting for me to thank her.

I wanted to throw the money in her face.

I wanted to scream.

But I saw my parents watching from across the garden, their faces pale with worry.

My dad gave me a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Don't make a scene.

Later that night, my parents and I sat in our cramped living room.

The silence was heavy.

"She's a difficult girl," my mom said finally, not looking at me. "But her family is very important in this town, honey. Her father's company... he employs a lot of people. Including your uncle."

My dad sighed, running a hand over his tired face.

"Your mom is right, Sarah. Sometimes you just have to swallow your pride. It's not worth the trouble. Just let it go."

Let it go.

They were telling me to accept the humiliation.

To smile and say thank you when I was being kicked.

Because the Petersons had money.

Because they had power.

And we had nothing.

So I did what they asked.

I swallowed my pride.

I buried my anger and my shame deep inside me.

I held it all in, a poison that slowly seeped into every part of my being.

I let them crush me.

And that was my second mistake.

I never should have let it go.