Chapter 5

The funeral was a small, somber affair. Kenia stood in the back, hidden by a black veil.

One of the teachers from the arts center, a kind woman named Mrs. Gable, recognized her. She pulled Kenia aside, her face etched with grief and anger.

"He talked about you all the time," Mrs. Gable said, her voice thick with tears. "He said you were the most talented, dedicated person he had ever met. He defended you to everyone, even when the news got ugly."

She explained how the scandal had devastated Mr. Evans. The center's funding was frozen. Parents were pulling their kids out. The dream they had built together was turning into a nightmare.

"The final blow," Mrs. Gable said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "was the announcement."

"What announcement?" Kenia asked.

"Estella Duncan. She released a statement to the press. She said her wedding to Holden was real, and that your marriage license... it was a fake. Just another prop for their sick game."

The world tilted. Kenia felt the ground give way beneath her.

"No," she whispered. "That can't be true."

She remembered the day he gave it to her. He had taken her to a small, official-looking office. A man had stamped the paper. Holden had kissed her, telling her she was his wife now, forever.

It was all a lie. The most sacred promise he had made to her was just another line in their twisted script.

Her head throbbed. The pain was so intense, she thought her skull would crack open.

Mrs. Gable's face, once full of sympathy, was now hard with resentment.

"You knew, didn't you?" she hissed. "You were playing along, using him, using us, to get back at her. And you let a good man die for your petty games."

She dragged Kenia to the entrance of the chapel. "Look at what you've done. You're selfish. You've destroyed everything."

"I'm sorry," Kenia cried, the words torn from her throat. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

But her apologies were meaningless. If she had never met Holden, if she had never slighted Estella that day in the coffee shop, if she had just stayed in her own world, Mr. Evans would still be alive.

The guilt was a physical weight, crushing her.

Just then, a delivery boy on a scooter pulled up. "Are you Kenia Hayes?"

He handed her a large, cheerful-looking cake box.

"This is from a Miss Duncan," he said. "She said to tell you, 'Happy Funeral! Hope you're enjoying the final prank!'"

Kenia's eyes fell to the gift tag on the box. It was a pre-printed card from a fancy bakery. But at the bottom, in Holden's familiar, elegant handwriting, was a signature. "H."

He knew. He had signed off on this. This final, ghoulish act of cruelty.

The last bit of her heart turned to stone.

She stayed until everyone else had left the cemetery. She placed a single white lily on Mr. Evans's grave.

"I promise," she whispered to the cold stone, "I will never be that weak, foolish girl again. I will live. And I will make them pay."

She went back to the penthouse. She didn't sneak in this time. She walked right through the front door.

Holden, Estella, and his grandmother, Annabella, were in the dining room, enjoying a lavish meal. The scene was warm, domestic. A perfect family.

The moment she entered, the laughter stopped. The air grew thick with tension.

Annabella Blake looked at her with pure disdain. "Look what the cat dragged in. Don't you know your place, girl?"

Kenia ignored her. She had endured Annabella's class-based insults for three years. They no longer had any power over her. She started to walk past them, up the stairs.

"Don't you dare walk away when I'm talking to you," Annabella snapped. "You need to learn that some things, and some people, will never belong to you."

She gestured to Estella. "Holden is marrying Estella. The wedding is next week. She will wear the Blake family jewels. She will be the next Mrs. Dalton."

Kenia froze on the stairs. Next week. The wedding she had spent three years planning was still happening. Only the bride had changed.

"It's just to appease my grandmother," Holden said quickly, looking at Kenia with pleading eyes. "It doesn't mean anything."

Estella laughed. "Of course it means something, darling. It means you're finally getting rid of the trash." She looked at Kenia, her eyes glittering with malice. "You know, we still need a bridesmaid. I'd be happy to have you. It's the least you can do, after all the trouble you've caused."