The front door eased open, and Claire stepped out.

Her gown faded from a pale, translucent white-blue at the shoulders to a deep lake blue at the hem. It was beautiful-elegant even-but obviously ill-fitted. The waist hung too loose, and the bodice slipped unless she held it steady. So she did, one hand at her side, steps small and measured.

Nelson's gaze lingered.

It wasn't the dress he'd pictured, not on her. But somehow, despite the poor fit, it suited her-sharp, cool, distant. A far cry from the quiet, uncertain girl he used to know.

"Get in," he said, looking away. "Front seat this time."

Claire frowned, "Isn't that Serena's usual spot?"

Nelson's hand tightened slightly on the wheel. "Serena won't mind. Just get in-we're already late-just get in."

Claire looked at him, her tone even. "Maybe she doesn't. But I do."

She paused. "Actually, I've been thinking... maybe I shouldn't go at all. Pretty sure she doesn't want me there. And with a crowd like that, one less won't be missed."

Then, seriously, she turned around like she was ready to head back.

"Claire!" Nelson's tone sharpened-he wasn't hiding his frustration. He leaned in and hit the horn. The sharp sound made her freeze mid-step.

"Fine," he muttered. "Sit in the back if you want."

Claire let out a tired breath, kept her back to him for a moment, then turned back calmly. She opened the back door without another word and got in, a little clumsy thanks to the loose dress. She carefully swept in her skirt before closing the door.

Nelson pulled away in silence.

After a while, Claire spoke. "Nelson, how are things... with Serena?"

The car jerked to a sudden stop.

Claire yelped as her body pitched forward, her forehead hitting the back of the front seat.

Nelson caught himself quickly, then glanced back through the rearview mirror.

Claire was sitting back up, one hand over her forehead.

"Sorry," he said first, easing the car forward again at a gentler speed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Claire pulled her hand away-her forehead was a little red. She didn't look at him again, just turned slightly and pulled the seatbelt over her shoulder. Then she looked away, staring out the window.

They drove on, the silence creeping in again.

Then Claire asked, softly, "Is her condition... manageable now? I mean-seeing me isn't going to trigger anything, right?"

"She's fine," Nelson said after a beat, his voice clipped. "You don't need to worry."

"Good," Claire murmured.

Of course she wasn't worried about Serena. She just needed to be sure.

Tonight... might be the end of everything.

After about half an hour, the car stopped in front of a brightly lit mansion.

The Thompson residence-the place Claire had lived for twenty years-now felt as unfamiliar as a stranger's home.

Claire unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out without hesitation.

Nelson was already out, striding ahead toward the lawn where a crowd had gathered.

Tall, composed, eyes fixed forward-he drew glances effortlessly.

Claire carefully lifted the ends of her oversized pale blue dress and stepped out of the car.

She took a deep breath and tried to follow Nelson at a steady pace.

But just as she was about to catch up, Nelson stopped and turned.

Facing her, in full view of the crowd, he said aloud, "Claire, come here."

In that instant, the chatter and laughter on the lawn dimmed noticeably.

Heads turned. Curious eyes followed her.

Then the whispers began-low, sharp, and venom-coated.

"So that's the one the Thompsons raised by mistake."

"Didn't they say she was shipped overseas? Why's she back now?"

"Ugh, look at that dress. clearly doesn't fit. Who even gave it to her?"

"She stole someone else's life for twenty years-then tried to steal the fiancé too. And now she dares show her face?"

"Nelson looks like he was forced to bring her. What a disgrace."

Every word, laced with contempt and glee, slid straight into Claire's ears.

She gripped the hem of her dress a little tighter but kept her expression calm.

Holding her head high, she walked toward Nelson.

Just as she was about to reach him, the music from a white grand piano in the center of the lawn stopped.

Serena stood from the piano, dressed in an elegant floor-length white gown.

Her makeup was flawless, her long hair smooth and flowing, with a sparkling diamond necklace catching the light perfectly.

It was only now that she seemed to notice Claire. Her face lit up with the perfect amount of surprise.

Then she gracefully walked over to her.

"Claire?" Serena's voice was soft and full of warmth. "Is it really you? When did you come back? You didn't even let us know. Mom and Dad were so worried!"

She reached out to take Claire's hand in a friendly gesture.

But Claire smoothly stepped back, choosing not to engage, though a gentle smile appeared on her lips. "I got back last night. I already spoke to Aunt Elena this morning-maybe she forgot to mention it."

Serena acted as though she missed the subtle distance in Claire's words and simply kept smiling, now even more brightly, like some cheerful kid, "Well, I'm glad you're back. It's been so lonely without you these years. I really missed you!"

Before Claire could respond, Serena threw her arms around her in a big hug.

Claire froze.

The cloying sweetness of Serena's perfume wrapped around her like smoke.

From the outside, the embrace looked warm, affectionate.

But her arms were tight-too tight. Claire could hardly breathe.

Then, right next to her ear, Serena whispered, voice cold and laced with sarcasm, only for Claire to hear:

"That dress. doesn't seem to fit you well at all, does it?"

The hug lasted only a few seconds.

Serena let go, her flawless smile still intact. She lifted her hand as if to gently fix Claire's slightly tousled hair, all sisterly affection on the surface. But her eyes lingered deliberately on the loose fabric around Claire's waist.

Then she stepped back just a bit and, in a voice that sounded innocently curious, said, "Claire, your dress. is it a bit loose? I hope it's not uncomfortable"

The whispering around them grew louder.

"Real heiresses wear this season's couture. She couldn't even get a proper-fitting dress."

"See? A fake's always a fake.Wearing stolen things doesn't make you the real deal."

The words floated through the air like invisible pins, pricking at Claire from every direction.

But she stood tall, back straight, expression calm.

She met Serena's eyes-and caught the flicker of satisfaction hiding behind that polished smile.

Encouraged by the murmurs, Serena turned to Nelson and added with a light pout, "Nelson, why did you pick that dress for her? It doesn't fit and.it's not flattering."

Everyone's gaze turned to Nelson.

He stood there, his expression unreadable.

He gave Claire a glance.

She stood calmly, eyes lowered slightly, her fingers adjusting the fabric again.

For reasons he couldn't explain, something in him stirred-irritation, maybe. Or guilt.

He looked away and replied evenly, "It was a last-minute thing, didn't get to check sizing."

"It's a brand-new design from the label-I figured it'd be fine."

The gossip around them suddenly quieted.

It was obvious Nelson was shutting Serena down. He wasn't joining in on shaming Claire.

Serena's smile faltered for a heartbeat.

She hadn't expected that.

Nelson always cared about her feelings. He never stood up for Claire before.

Her fingers curled slightly at her side. She forced another smile, voice light. "Ah, I see."

"Next time, Nelson, you better double-check. I'd hate for Claire to feel bad."

Nelson didn't respond.

His Adam's apple moved slightly as he let out a quiet "Mm."

Serena felt a wave of frustration rise in her chest.

She clenched her teeth, quickly adjusted her expression, and turned to Claire with a smile, slipping her arm through hers.

This time, Claire didn't manage to dodge.

"Claire, maybe you should go change?" Serena said warmly. "There's a few dresses in your room-some I haven't even worn. Nelson gave me a bunch, so I'm sure one will fit you better."

Claire finally looked up at her.

She wasn't sure what Serena was playing at, but she didn't have the energy for it. Not tonight.

"Alright," Claire replied gently without hesitation. "If it bothers you that much, I suppose I should."

She pulled her arm back and headed upstairs.

"I'll go with you."

Nelson's voice came from behind, unexpected.

Claire paused, surprised. She turned slightly and caught the flash of resentment in Serena's eyes.

Nelson didn't seem to notice-or maybe he just didn't care.

He stepped forward, clearly intending to go with Claire.

"Nelson!" Serena quickly called out, sounding hurt. "What about my birthday gift?"

She looked straight at him, eyes full of anticipation.

Nelson stopped, his brow twitching slightly as he turned to her.

Claire felt that old sense of absurdity creeping in again.

She lifted her gaze. "Mr. Cooper, You know how girls can be when they're upset. You'd better go."

"If you're holding the dress, you might have trouble walking," Nelson said.

"I'll manage. No need to trouble you," Claire replied, her voice light.

In the end, he didn't follow.

Claire walked down the hallway, guided only by memory.

She stopped in front of a familiar wooden door.

This was it.

After Serena had returned to the Thompson household, Elena had "gently suggested" that the master bedroom be given to her instead.

So Claire had packed her things and quietly moved into this room-barely half the size.

On her first day there, Serena had leaned against the doorframe with a smug smile and a voice dripping with false concern.

"Sis, this room's kind of dark, isn't it? Are you sure you're okay with it? I could talk to Mom about getting you a better one."

Claire had simply shaken her head. "No need. This one's fine."

But it hadn't been fine.

In winter, it was freezing. In summer, stifling. The only window faced a brick wall, so sunlight never reached the room.

Back then, she'd said nothing. She thought silence would mean less drama.

Looking back now... what a joke.

She reached for the doorknob and turned it gently.

The door creaked open.

The room looked almost untouched, just as she'd left it three years ago-except now the air was heavy with dust and the musty scent of abandonment.

The curtains were drawn, the light inside dull and gray.

She stepped in.

BANG!

The door slammed shut behind her.

The sharp click of a key turning echoed through the silence. Then-

Another sound: the distinct metallic snick of a key being pulled out.

Claire's heart dropped.

She spun around-too late.

The door was locked from the outside.

She grabbed the handle and twisted, yanked-but it didn't budge.

Then-

A rough arm seized her from behind, pinning her with brute force.

"Ah-!" Claire gasped, pain shooting through her arm.

⋯

Outside, the lawn glittered under warm lights. Laughter flowed with the breeze.

Serena sipped from her juice glass, her eyes flicking up toward the second floor every now and then.

If her timing was right. things should be unfolding now.

That idiot Claire was probably already in the room.

A small, satisfied smile curled on Serena's lips.

Not far away, Nelson stood engaged in quiet conversation with an older guest-but his eyes kept drifting.

Not missing a beat, Serena set her glass down and walked over, voice tinged with worry.

"Nelson. Claire's been gone a while, hasn't she? Do you think she's okay? Maybe the dress is tricky-she might need help with it."

Her tone was gentle, thoughtful-just enough concern, nothing overdone.

Nelson looked up toward the second floor.

"Let's go check." He set his glass down, voice calm-but his steps were already urgent.

Serena's eyes flickered with triumph as she hurried to follow. "I'll come too. I'm really worried about my sister."

A few curious socialites exchanged glances and casually trailed behind.

Then more guests, sensing something amiss, began to follow.

A sizable group made their way upstairs.

The hallway was silent.

Serena walked ahead, her steps slow and deliberate.

From inside the room-

Faint sounds.

A man's muffled groans. The scrape of shuffling feet.

Serena's heart leapt with anticipation.

She quickly covered her mouth with one hand, eyes wide in feigned horror. "Oh my god... did you hear that? What's happening in there?"

Nelson's face darkened instantly.

His jaw clenched. His gaze turned sharp as ice.

The crowd behind them began to stir, murmurs rising like a wave.

Serena, catching the shift in attention, stepped forward. Her hand reached for the door.

"Claire? Are you okay?" she called out, voice trembling just enough to sound believable.

Creeeak-

The door swung open.

Light poured into the room.

And there stood Claire.

Her hair slightly tousled, her expression icy calm.

At her feet, a large man lay curled on the ground, arms and legs bound with torn strips of fabric. A rag stuffed in his mouth muffled his groans.

Claire's foot rested firmly on his shoulder, pinning him in place-effortless and composed.

The scene was surreal.

The crowd froze.

Serena's carefully crafted expression of panic cracked, eyes wide in genuine disbelief.

Claire looked up slowly, her voice cool and clear.

"Serena," she said, "you look. disappointed. Were you hoping I'd be the wreck you imagined?"

Serena blinked, then quickly found her voice.

"What are you talking about? I was worried! We heard noises-what were you even doing in here? How could you just tie someone up? Are you insane?!"

Nelson stepped forward, his voice low and cold.

"Claire," he said, "you'd better explain."