Chapter 1

Valentine's Day.

I'd bought my boyfriend a camera, and he'd posted about it for three days straight.

He was thrilled. He even gave me a gift back, in a fancy little jewelry box.

I opened it, expecting something, and found a moldy orange inside.

"A moldy orange? Babe, did you grab the wrong thing?"

"Nope! I put this together just for you. Surprised?"

Clark Sanchez was laughing his head off, and then he explained the meaning behind it.

"You're graduating soon, right? A moldy orange is perfect for your thesis research! Isn't it exactly what you wanted?"

I pressed my lips together. I couldn't force a smile if I tried.

The next second I caught the words on his phone screen: "Family Card charged, $1,314." That was when I knew I'd thrown my heart to the dogs.

...

"Forget it. Let's break up."

I shoved the moldy orange back at Clark and reached for the camera.

Clark bristled and grabbed the camera, refusing to let go.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He frowned at me. He was the one who hadn't bothered, yet he put on the face of someone who'd been wronged.

"Wow, Angela Jenner, how did I never notice how vain you are? What, no cash or jewelry on Valentine's Day, so now you're upset?"

"When did you turn into one of those gold-digger women? And to think I kept telling my friends and family how sensible and thoughtful you were. You really disappoint me."

"You won't even pretend anymore? You flip out on the spot and want to take back the camera you gave me? How do you know I wasn't going to send you a Valentine's transfer later?"

I saw right through him, and I knew he was trying to make me lose my temper on purpose.

So I just pulled up my payment code and held it out for him to scan.

"Then transfer it now."

Clark let out a laugh of pure disbelief.

"Angela, I can give it to you, but you can't be the one asking, you get that? The moment you ask for it, you're in the wrong."

"I'm not asking. You brought it up yourself, didn't you? Getting cold feet again? Or was it all just talk?"

I fired all three questions at him, fast, and Clark went red with fury.

But he still wouldn't let go of the camera, wouldn't give it back.

I was done holding it in. I pulled up the purchase receipt for the camera and showed it to him.

"You posted for three days straight about how much you loved this camera. Wasn't that meant for me to see? I bought it for you. I wasn't expecting a gift of equal value in return, but the least you could do is put some thought into it."

"A camera worth over ten grand, and you give me a moldy orange? You've got some nerve."

My questions turned his face red, so he blew up on purpose to talk over me.

"Enough! Angela, you've become so petty, so obsessed with money."

"Years of us together, and you measure it in cash? Someone else offered three grand for this moldy orange and I wouldn't sell it. I saved it just for you. What more do you want?"

He roared it out, and then, as if afraid of being seen, he quickly pulled on a face mask.

But the whole time he kept clutching the camera, terrified I'd take it back.

"Fine. Everyone else is out enjoying the holiday, and here you are, wrecking everything in one shot. Looks like we're not celebrating today either. Let's both cool off."

"I've got things to do, I'm heading out. I have to cancel the French restaurant for tonight. You've ruined my appetite."

He walked off without hesitation. I got the feeling there was still a smile at the corner of his mouth, and it was a good thing the mask covered it, or he'd have laughed out loud.

Once Clark was gone, I quickly opened his personal video account and dug for any trace.

Eventually, under a video he'd posted not long ago, I found a comment from a girl named Nora Larsen.

Nothing much to it, just a single praise-emoji sticker. Nothing special.

But the moment I clicked into her profile and took one look, I called the police right then and there.