Chapter 4

The next morning, the showcase committee announced that the preliminary review would take place at 10 AM at the plaza outside the Louvre.

I hadn't slept a wink. Clutching my broken case, I rushed upstairs.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, I saw Chloe standing by the floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the hallway.

She was wearing my "Ethereal."

It was a piece sewn stitch by stitch with ultra-fine silver threads, forming a stunning celestial map.

But right now, Carter was holding a pair of scissors, cutting open the back hem of the gown without a second thought.

His movements were so casual it made my heart turn to ice.

That gown was the last piece of art Grandma Evelyn had taught me to embroider, stitch by stitch, when she was on her deathbed.

Grandma had said:

"Maya, when you go to the big stage, bring this sky with you. Let the world see our heritage."

I rushed over, my voice hoarse with pure fury.

"Take it off!"

Chloe gasped, her eyes instantly turning red.

"Maya, I didn't know this was yours..."

"Carter told me he bought this couture piece for me."

Carter immediately shielded her behind him, pointing the scissors at me.

"Maya, you want her to strip right here? This is a public hallway. Do you have any decency?"

I stared at him. "That is my grandmother's final legacy!"

Carter’s face stiffened for a fraction of a second, but then he sneered.

"The old woman has been dead for years. Are you really going to trigger Chloe’s panic attack over a piece of dead fabric?"

Chloe hid behind him, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

Carter immediately turned around, whispering sweet things to comfort her.

"Don't worry, babe. She's just crazy. She's jealous because you look prettier in it than she ever could."

At the preliminary review, Chloe, wearing the mutilated "Ethereal," took center stage.

She held my sketchbook, leaning into Carter’s chest, smiling coyly for the cameras of international media.

Some peers from our college recognized Carter and cheered:

"Wow, Carter! Your girlfriend's dress is insane! It's gorgeous!"

Carter didn't correct them.

He just turned his head and gave me a cold, warning look.

There was no guilt in his eyes. Only a high-and-mighty threat.

After the review, Chloe held up the ruined hem of the dress and ran down to the steps by the Seine.

"Carter, take some solo photos of me! I want to post them on Ins!"

I marched over and grabbed her wrist.

"Take the dress off and give it back to me."

Chloe struggled, pulling back.

"Maya, I'm not done taking photos..."

"Take. It. Off!"

During the struggle, she suddenly shrieked.

A sharp ripping sound echoed through the air.

The delicate silk hem had snagged on the sharp iron railing of the stairs. The gorgeous silver embroidery tore open, leaving a huge, ugly gash.

Chloe took the opportunity to fall straight into Carter’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I didn't mean to! Why did Maya have to push me?"

Carter shoved me away with brutal force.

Unprepared, I fell heavily onto the stone steps. My palms scraped against the rough concrete, and blood instantly welled up.

But he didn't even look at me. He was too busy inspecting Chloe’s ankle.

"Did you twist it? Does it hurt?"

I looked down at the bright red blood on my hands, then at the completely ruined "Ethereal."

Carter looked back, his eyes as cold as ice.

"Are you happy now, Maya? Do you have to ruin everything before you're satisfied?"

I opened my mouth, but the taste of copper filled my throat.

Before I could speak, Chloe suddenly pulled a crumpled little fabric pouch from the inner pocket of the dress.

"Ugh, what is this cheap junk? It was pressing against my skin the whole time."

My face drained of all color.

That was the silver locket and lucky charm containing Grandma’s hair.

I lunged to grab it, but Chloe let go of her hand, pretending to slip.

The pouch fell straight into the rushing currents of the Seine, swallowed instantly by the dark waves.

I knelt on the cold stone bank, reaching wildly into the water.

But there was nothing. Only the freezing river water, chilling me to the bone.

Carter stood behind me, his voice dripping with impatience.

"It’s just a cheap pouch. I’ll buy you ten designer bags when we get back, okay?"

I knelt on the ground, my fingers clutching the cracks in the stone so hard my nails cracked, bleeding onto the rock.

At that exact moment, I finally woke up.

Some people don't hurt you because they don't know your pain.

They hurt you because to them, your entire life isn't worth a single tear from their precious lover.