Chapter 2

My brain went entirely blank. My first instinct was to run out and scream at Jasmine.

But when I opened the door, she was already in bed.

Carter was just coming out of the guest room. I tried to push past him, but he grabbed me tightly, shoving me back.

"What is wrong with you now? I just got Jasmine to sleep. Don't go in there and wake her up!"

That night, we had the biggest fight of our lives. I screamed, asking him why he always put Jasmine first.

He yelled back, accusing me of being insecure and insanely jealous.

Finally, he sneered, "Jasmine is sweet and innocent. Unlike you, Stella. You're calculated, bitter, and exhausting."

I stopped fighting.

A sickening thought hit me. Carter knew. He knew about my mom, and he was helping Jasmine cover it up.

After the screaming died down, Carter threw my ID back at me.

"Stella, realistically, do you think you can find anyone better than me?"

"I've never judged you for your poor background. You should be grateful."

I burst into a laugh—a laugh that quickly turned into tears.

Standing a few feet away from him, I whispered, "My mom is dead, isn't she? And you knew about it all along."

He turned to look at me, his expression suddenly blank.

"What did you say? I was on my phone. I didn't hear you."

"Anyway, have you calmed down? Are you staying?"

I spent the rest of the night on the couch.

From the bedroom, I could hear Carter and Jasmine giggling.

They slept in the same bed right in front of me, all because Jasmine was "scared of the dark" and Carter "had to comfort her."

I realized then that being strong gets a woman nowhere. It only gives men an excuse not to care.

At dawn, I got on a Greyhound bus back to my hometown.

But the house was empty. My mom’s wardrobe was completely cleaned out.

Desperate, I checked our Ring camera footage on my phone.

The footage showed my mom leaving with her suitcase two days ago.

I remembered her calling me a few weeks ago, saying she wanted to come to the city to visit me.

I had told her no, saying I would come pick her up during my next vacation. She must have decided to surprise me.

Was the woman Jasmine hit really my mom? How could it be such a coincidence?

My mom had never met Jasmine. How did Jasmine know she was my mother?