Chapter 2: The Person Behind the Note
The person standing outside my bedroom door was my aunt Clara.
My father’s older sister.
She looked uncomfortable, almost frightened.
That immediately confused me.
Aunt Clara had always been calm. She was the person who brought me soup when I was sick and helped me study when I struggled.
But now she looked like someone carrying a secret too heavy to hold.
“Clara,” my dad said quietly.
“Did you write this?””
Her eyes moved to the receipt.
Then to Brielle.
Then back to my father.
“No.””
Brielle released a breath.
For one second, she looked relieved.
But Aunt Clara continued.
“I didn’t write it.””
She paused.
“But I know who did.””
The room went silent.
Brielle suddenly stepped forward.
“Why are you making things dramatic?””
Aunt Clara looked at her.
“Because someone tried to destroy Emily’s graduation.””
Brielle scoffed.
“You’re blaming me because you don’t like me.””
“No,” Aunt Clara replied.
“I’m blaming you because I saw you.””
The confidence disappeared from Brielle’s face.
My dad stared at her.
“You saw her?””
Aunt Clara nodded slowly.
“I came by this morning to drop off your graduation gift for Emily. I heard voices upstairs.””
She looked at me.
“I heard Brielle saying she couldn’t let you graduate.””
My chest tightened.
Brielle shook her head.
“That’s a lie.””
Aunt Clara didn’t react.
“She said Emily was going to ruin everything.””
My dad’s jaw tightened.
“What does that mean?””
Nobody answered.
Because everyone in that room knew Brielle had been hiding something.
For months.
I looked at my stepsister.
“Why do you hate me so much?””
Her expression hardened.
“You really don’t know?””
“No.””
She laughed bitterly.
“You always got everything.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
“The attention. The praise. Dad’s pride.””
My father looked hurt.
“Brielle…”
But she kept going.
“You were the perfect daughter. The one who got awards. The one who made Mom happy before she died.””
The room became painfully quiet.
I understood then.
This wasn’t just about a dress.
It was about years of jealousy that Brielle had never admitted.
But jealousy didn’t explain the note.
It didn’t explain the expensive gown.
My father picked up the receipt again.
“Why did you buy a dress?””
Brielle looked away.
“I wanted something nice.””
“On my card?””
“I thought you wouldn’t mind.””
My father’s voice lowered.
“That doesn’t explain this message.””
Brielle said nothing.
Then her phone buzzed.
Everyone looked at it.
She quickly grabbed it.
Too quickly.
My father noticed.
“Who is texting you?””
“No one.””
“Give me the phone.””
Her eyes widened.
“Dad, no.””
That was the moment I knew.
Whatever was on that phone mattered.
Brielle backed away.
And for the first time since I had known her, she looked afraid.
My father reached out his hand.
“Brielle.””
She refused.
Then the phone slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor.
The screen lit up.
One message appeared.
I saw only a few words.
THE PLAN FAILED. GET OUT BEFORE THEY FIND OUT WHAT YOU DID.
My father picked up the phone.
And underneath that message was a name.
May you like
A name that made his face lose all color.
Because it belonged to someone we trusted.
