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."

Nelson's cold, clipped demand cut through the air like a blade, slicing straight into Claire's chest.

She slowly lifted her head, meeting his furious gaze head-on.

In that moment, the man standing before her felt like a stranger.

All those years-of waiting, of hoping, of trusting-suddenly seemed like a cruel self-deception.

Her voice was quiet, but steady. "Nelson. Is that really what you think of me? That I'm that kind of woman?"

He faltered.

His anger dimmed, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty.

The man tied up on the floor was bruised and gagged. Claire's clothes, though slightly disheveled, remained intact.

He opened his mouth to speak-but nothing came out.

"Nelson!" Serena's tear-filled eyes clung to him as she grabbed his sleeve. "Don't be mad at my sister. Maybe she. made a mistake. She's been overseas for so long. maybe she got lonely, and. got involved with someone she shouldn't have."

Her voice trembled with practiced vulnerability.

A few of the guests nearby let out soft sighs, their judgmental eyes falling on Claire, now tinged with pity-or disdain.

Claire's expression didn't change.

Then she laughed-soft, brief, and cold.

She straightened slowly, eyes sweeping over the crowd.

With deliberate calm, she reached into her handbag and pulled out what looked like a lipstick tube.

She pressed a hidden switch.

A faint electric buzz sparked, followed by a crisp, unmistakable recording.

First: the sound of a door slamming shut. Then-the click of a key turning.

Her own shaky breathing came next.

A man's voice barked: "Shut up and stay still! You got paid. Time to earn it."

Then Claire's measured voice: "Who sent you? I'll pay double. Just stop."

A mocking laugh followed. "You think a fake rich girl like you can afford that? Miss Thompson was clear-she wants you humiliated. Ruined. Be a good girl, do as I say, and maybe it won't hurt so bad."

Then-

A sharp scream.

A grunt of pain.

Claire's voice, low and cold: "Move again and it won't just be your nose that breaks."

Silence.

The room was frozen.

The guests-silent. Their smirks vanished.

And Nelson...

His expression, already grim, hardened into something darker.

He turned slowly to Serena, still clutching his sleeve, her face drained of color.

"No-Nelson, listen to me," she stammered. "She's lying! She's framing me! That recording-she faked it!"

Tears streamed down her face, her composure unraveling.

Just then, Elena shoved through the crowd, breathless and alarmed.

"What's going on? What happened to my Serena?"

She rushed to her daughter and pulled her close.

When she saw Serena sobbing uncontrollably, her eyes snapped to Claire-hostile, accusing.

"This is Serena's birthday, Claire. Can't you behave for once?"

Serena buried herself in Elena's arms, crying harder. "Mom, it wasn't me. Claire's blaming me for something I didn't do."

She trembled violently, as if moments from collapse.

Elena's fury only deepened.

"How could you do this to her? We raised you for twenty years, Claire! And this is how you repay us? With cruelty?"

Nelson's brows drew together as he watched Serena's meltdown.

Instinctively, his foot shifted forward-as it always had, every time Serena had one of her "episodes" these past three years.

Claire saw everything.

She remembered the day Serena returned to this house.

How Elena had rushed to reclaim the master bedroom for her "real" daughter.

How everything that had belonged to Claire was handed over-without hesitation.

For years, she'd been treated like a shadow. A servant. A placeholder.

Two decades of so-called family ties-torn in an instant.

And now, they dared to look at her like she was the one who'd betrayed them.

Claire crossed her arms, voice steady but sharp.

"Serena, you brought a crowd here hoping they'd catch me in some compromising scene. What if they had?"

Serena flinched, curled tighter into Elena's embrace, still sobbing-but said nothing.

Elena's voice rose, shaking with rage. "Claire, can't you be the bigger person? Look at what you've done-Serena can't even breathe!"

"Enough," Nelson said at last. His voice was low, cold. "Serena's not stable right now."

Claire turned to him.

She smiled.

"So every time she falls apart, I'm expected to stand down? To take the blame? Is that my role in this house?"

Nelson's jaw tightened. "Now's not the time to argue."

"No," Claire said. "You're right. Let's not argue."

She paused.

"Let's just end it."

Her eyes met his, unwavering.

"I've already signed the divorce papers."