Chapter 3

I dragged myself over to the edge of the bed and picked up my phone.

Hailey's Instagram had just updated. A blurry night shot of a streetlamp with a two-word caption: "So cold."

No location tagged. But I clearly recognized the 24-hour convenience store sign glowing right next to the lamp—it was right at the corner of my apartment complex's east gate.

She hadn't even left.

A comment from a mutual friend popped up: "Where are you this late? Go home if it's freezing!"

She replied with a crying emoji, saying she had no home to go back to.

My stomach churned. I flipped my phone facedown.

I lay awake until three in the morning.

One thought spun relentlessly through my head.

Was Hailey really that broke?

After graduating from college, she had bounced through four jobs, none lasting more than six months. Her excuses were endless: her manager was toxic, the commute was too long, the pay was beneath her degree.

She rented a run-down studio downtown, but I had paid six months of her rent upfront.

When she got sick and was hospitalized, I stayed by her side for three days and three nights, covering the bill with my credit card.

On her birthday, I gave her designer bags. In return, she gave me a bar of handmade soap.

I had never held it against her, because she was my best friend. From middle school until now, twelve whole years.

Twelve years.

When she was giggling in Ethan's arms, did she think of me even once?

Early the next morning, I opened the door. Ethan was curled up on the sofa, his blanket halfway on the floor, one shoulder bare.

Hearing the sound, he woke up instantly, blinking groggily as he sat up: "Chloe..."

"I'm going to work." I started slipping into my shoes.

"I'll drive you."

"No need."

He shuffled over to the entryway, his hair a bird's nest, his shirt a crumpled mess:

"Chloe, I was wrong, okay? I'll get the sweater back from her. I'll keep my distance from now on. Just don't be mad."

My fingers paused as I tied my laces. "You're getting it back?"

"Yeah. I'll go pick it up today."

"Ethan," I straightened up and looked him dead in the eye.

"I gave that sweater to her. You draped it over her right in front of me yesterday. You think it's appropriate to go ask for it back now?"

His lips parted, but no words came out.

I didn't spare him another glance. I grabbed my purse and slammed the door behind me.

The drop of the elevator made my stomach flip, but my mind had never been clearer.

Once at the office, I couldn't focus on work. I pulled up my chat history with Hailey.

Our last message was from yesterday when I invited her over for dinner.

Since she loved my life so much, I was going to let her experience the full cost of it.

I opened my banking app.

Setting aside the small daily expenses on food and drinks, there was the six months of rent I covered, the fifteen hundred dollars she borrowed for her cousin's wedding last month, and countless random emergency loans. All told, it added up to over twelve thousand dollars.

I used to think talking about money ruined friendships. Now I realized avoiding it almost ruined my life.

I took screenshots of every single transfer, saved them, and emailed a full backup to myself.

Right in the middle of it, our receptionist ran over:

"Chloe, there's a girl outside asking for you. She says she's your best friend. She's sobbing her eyes out, and people are starting to stare."