Chapter 1

1

On our wedding photoshoot day, my fiancé Gary brought his childhood best friend Mindy to pose in my place. I lacked poise, he said, and bad photos would ruin his reputation. Over the years, Mindy had stood in for me at high-profile events. Gary called it an innocent game, telling me not to take it to heart. Now he wanted her in our wedding portraits.

Mindy stood before me in a gown identical to mine. Makeup, hair, diamond earrings, every detail matched. "What do you think, Rachel?" she teased. "I bet three days before anyone realizes I'm not you." Gary wrapped an arm around her waist, smirking. "Joe just called her my future bride. That's one down." Mindy flashed her phone. "I'm standing in for your mother's birthday gala too. If I win, you hang our portrait in the master bedroom. If I lose, I'll get plastic surgery to look just like her." Gary agreed without hesitation. He didn't even ask me.

Staring in the mirror at two identical brides, the truth clicked. That was why he'd insisted on altering my dress dimensions weeks ago. I reached back and unlaced the bodice. "She can keep the dress. It suits her better." I grabbed my phone and canceled the hotel reservation for his mother's party. A fake was a fake. No matter how convincing, there was only one real me.

…

"Rachel, are you seriously mad?"

Gary caught sight of me unzipping the dress in the mirror. His smile wavered, and he hurried over, catching my hand.

"Take your hands off me."

Instead of letting go, he stepped closer, whispering in that gentle, coaxing tone he used whenever he treated me like a child. "There are a dozen crew members waiting out there. Stop being so dramatic."

Mindy stood a few feet away, the lace train of her gown trailing across the floor. She remained silent, tilting her head slightly as she watched us. The exact angle, the precise tilt of her chin, was a carbon copy of my own habits.

I pried his fingers off my wrist, one by one.

The silk gown slid down my shoulders, revealing the white slip beneath.

Gary's face darkened. "Rachel!"

"Let her wear it," I said softly. "You did not have it tailored for my body anyway."

I folded the dress neatly and set it over the back of a chair.

Mindy finally spoke, her voice trembling with delicate anxiety. "Rachel, I am so sorry. I should not have brought up that stupid bet."

She lowered her gaze, her lashes fluttering as her fingers nervously twisted the lace sleeves of the dress. "Gary, did I say something wrong? Is she upset with me?"

Gary looked over at her, his expression softening instantly. "It is not your fault." He patted her shoulder gently, then turned back to me with a sigh. "Rachel, Mindy was just trying to help. She attends those events for you because..."

"Because I lack the class," I finished his sentence for him.

He paused for a fraction of a second. "That is not what I meant."

"That is exactly what you meant."

He drew in a sharp breath, pulling me into a quiet corner of the studio. His voice dropped, maintaining a patient, patronizing warmth. "Look at you, getting all worked up over nothing. It is just a game. Mindy and I have played this since we were kids, and you know that. When she went in your place to the company gala last time, you did not make a scene."

I did not make a scene then because the dress I had bought a week in advance was deemed inappropriate by him, replaced by a duplicate from Mindy's closet.

The time before that, at his father's milestone birthday, he told me three days prior that I did not need to attend. Mindy had already put on my signature makeup and filled my seat. Photos were shared in the family group chat, receiving endless blessings, but the woman in those pictures was not me.

From the first game to the ninth, from high school reunions to corporate dinners, Mindy slowly erased my presence from his social life. And every single time, Gary offered the exact same line with a bright smile: It is just a game.

"Rachel?" He waved a hand in front of my face.

I pulled out my phone and opened the group chat with over a hundred mutual friends.

Mindy's pinned announcement sat right at the top: Imposter Challenge Round Nine: The Wedding Portrait Edition. Target: 72 hours undetected.

Underneath it was a long stream of cheering emojis and hypes from everyone.

I typed a single line and sent it: Fair game. You two can take the photos. Hang them in the master bedroom or the living room. I do not care.

The group chat went dead silent for a few seconds before exploding with notifications.

Gary looked down at his screen, his eyes widening in shock. "Are you insane?"

"You did not ask if I was insane when you agreed to her bet."

I grabbed my jacket from the chair and walked toward the exit.

Gary took two steps toward me, but Mindy's voice whimpered behind him, thick with tears. "Gary, my head hurts... I think my blood sugar is dropping..."

His footsteps abruptly halted.

I did not turn back. I heard him say softly behind me, "Sit down, Mindy. Take it easy."

Pushing open the glass doors of the studio, I stepped into a chilly drizzle.

My phone vibrated. A text from Gary: Do not wander off. Wait for me. I will come find you as soon as I handle this.

I did not reply.

Opening a rideshare app, I typed in the address of our intended wedding home.

Rain streaked down the car window, blurring the city lights into smeared ribbons of gold. Leaning against the headrest, my mind drifted back to three years ago when he proposed in the rain. He had knelt on the wet pavement, his suit completely soaked, smiling with absolute sincerity.

He told me then: Rachel, you are the only woman I ever want to marry. My one and only.

In the rearview mirror, the studio lights faded into the dark.

When I arrived at the apartment, I unlocked the door with my thumbprint.

A stack of legal documents lay on the coffee table in the living room. On top sat a sticky note written in Gary's familiar handwriting:

Mindy, please sign Thursday's contract on Rachel's behalf. Make sure they do not alter the clause on page three. I put the original copy in the safe. You know the code.

Beneath the note was an equity transfer agreement.

An agreement involving assets under my name.

I turned to page three. The clause read: If Party B (Rachel) fails to attend the signing in person, Party A is granted full power of attorney.

The name listed for Party A was Mindy.

This was no game.

This was an erasure.

From my face, to my identity, to the last remaining assets registered under my name.

I placed the document back exactly as it was, leaving every page untouched.

Then I unlocked my phone and booked a one-way flight to Oceanside for three days later.

Three days.

That would be more than enough time.

2

"Rachel, don't you think you crossed the line yesterday?"

The next morning, Gary leaned against the bedroom doorframe, offering me a glass of warm milk. His tone was smooth, as if discussing the morning weather.

I took the glass and set it on the nightstand without taking a sip. "Where exactly did I cross the line?"

"That text in the group chat. Over a hundred people saw it. Telling everyone to hang Mindy's wedding photos in our living room, what do you think people are going to say?"

"Did you care what people would say when you took wedding photos with her?"

He rubbed his temples and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "Fine, I admit I did not think it through. But do not take it out on Mindy. She grew up without parents and has no close friends besides me. It is natural for her to lean on me."

I had listened to this exact lecture for three long years. Every time Mindy crossed an obvious line, Gary's defense always circled back to the same origin: She is fragile, so give her a break.

"Gary, she wore my makeup to represent me at your family dinners, attended your annual corporate galas in my place, and now poses in my wedding gown. What is next? Standing beside you at the registry office to sign our marriage license?"

"Can you stop making it sound so dramatic?" A flash of irritation cracked through his calm facade, but he quickly reined it in, softening his voice. "Rachel, I know you are upset. Once the photos are printed, I will have her delete every single digital file. Okay?"

"And that contract on the coffee table? Will you delete that too?"

He froze.

I looked straight into his eyes. "You asked Mindy to sign Thursday's deal for me. You handed over the equity agreement and gave her the safe combination. Gary, what are you actually doing?"

Silence stretched between us for several seconds.

He stood up, walked over to the window, and spoke with his back turned to me. "That contract is no big deal. Didn't you say you had a medical checkup on Thursday? I did not want to mess up your schedule, so I asked Mindy to help out. She is already familiar with their team anyway."

"Is their team familiar with her, or with me? Those equity shares belong to me."

"It makes no difference."

It makes no difference.

When those words left his mouth, he did not even turn around to face me.

The doorbell chimed.

Gary went to answer it. Mindy stood in the doorway wearing an almond cardigan, holding an insulated food bag.

"Rachel, I made some bird's nest soup for you. I felt so terrible about yesterday that I couldn't sleep all night. I knew I had to apologize to your face."

Her eyes were red, and the tip of her nose was flushed. She bowed slightly as she held out the container, her posture meek and blameless.

"Mindy woke up early just to simmer this," Gary said, shooting me a meaningful look.

I did not reach for the bag. "Save the gifts, Mindy. Just return the contract sitting on the coffee table."

Her hand stiffened.

Gary frowned. "Rachel..."

"I said give me the contract. I will sign it myself on Thursday."

Mindy's lips quivered slightly. She slowly pulled the container back against her chest, her voice barely audible. "Rachel, Gary helped me prepare for that meeting all day yesterday. I already coordinated with their point person. If we switch representatives now, it might ruin the deal."

"It is my contract. When I sign it and who I work with is none of your concern."

"Rachel..." Gary started to speak, but Mindy gently tugged at his sleeve.

"Gary, stop. It is my fault. Rachel is right, I overstepped."

She turned around, her small frame looking fragile under the entryway light. After taking a couple of steps, she leaned heavily against the shoe cabinet, swaying slightly.

"Mindy!" Gary rushed forward to support her.

Mindy clutched her chest, her voice faint. "I am fine... I just didn't sleep well last night, my heart is fluttering a bit..."

Gary helped her onto the sofa and looked back at me. I knew that look all too well: Look what you did, you drove her to exhaustion again.

I said nothing.

"Rachel, we will talk about the contract later. Let Mindy catch her breath first."

He poured a glass of warm water from the kitchen and draped a throw blanket over her knees.

Mindy leaned back against the armrest, her eyes closed, her eyelashes trembling softly. But underneath the blanket, her right thumb was discreetly tapping across her phone screen.

A notification pinged twice.

I could not see what she sent, but Gary's phone lit up almost simultaneously on the table. He glanced at the screen, then immediately flipped the phone face down.

"I am going out to pick up some medicine. Keep an eye on her," he whispered to me as he grabbed his car keys. "Rachel, she is really unwell. Don't push her too hard."

The front door clicked shut.

Only Mindy and I were left in the living room.

Her eyes remained closed.

I walked over, picked up the phone resting face down on her lap, and saw the screen was unlocked.

The messaging app was open to her chat with Gary. She had just sent a four-second voice note.

I tapped play on the speaker.

A quiet, trembling sob filled the air, sounding like a helpless, wounded animal.

Underneath the audio message was a line of text: Gary, does Rachel hate me? Maybe I should never have come here.

Gary's reply came instantly: Do not overthink it. She is just venting her temper. I will be right back.

I placed the phone back onto her lap.

Mindy opened her eyes.

Her gaze was cold, clear, and completely devoid of tears.

"Rachel, you really shouldn't go through my phone."

I turned around and walked back into the bedroom, without giving her another glance.

I unzipped my suitcase.

Passport, IDs, a change of clothes.

My flight ticket for two days later sat quietly in my phone app.

But before leaving, I needed to retrieve the original documents from the safe.

3

"Rachel, Gary said we should all have dinner together tonight."

The next afternoon, Mindy's message popped up right on time, accompanied by a cute emoji.

A moment later, Gary sent a text as well: Anhe Japanese Restaurant tonight at seven. Don't be late.

He chose the exact restaurant where we had our very first date.

Three years ago, he tucked a single white rose underneath the menu inside that quiet booth, telling me it was the flower that suited me best: subtle, elegant, and unforgettable.

I cherished that memory for three years.

When I arrived at the restaurant, Gary was already seated by the window, with Mindy sitting across from him. She wore light makeup today, her hair draped over her shoulders in the exact style I wore every day. Even her blouse was identical to the one I had purchased the week before.

"Rachel, you are here! Come sit," Mindy said, sliding inward to leave space for me next to Gary.

I did not take that seat. Instead, I pulled out a chair and sat directly beside her.

Gary glanced at me, said nothing, and gestured for the waiter.

"Rachel usually prefers salmon with less wasabi," he instructed the waiter.

Mindy piped up beside him. "Right, right! Rachel mentioned to me last time that she does not eat sea urchin."

I had never told her that.

That was a photo I posted on my private social feed, showing a plate with sea urchin sushi left untouched. She was studying my private posts down to the smallest detail.

When the dishes arrived, Gary placed a piece of fatty tuna on my plate. Mindy immediately served herself an identical piece, imitating my posture as she tilted her head toward Gary with a sweet smile.

"Gary, look. Am I eating this just like Rachel does?"

Gary chuckled softly. "You actually look pretty similar."

I set my chopsticks down.

"Rachel, what is wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. I am just not hungry."

"Your appetite has been poor lately. Are you feeling unwell?" There was genuine concern in his voice, his tone warm and soft.

That gentle tone made it nearly impossible to reconcile him with the cold man who left that equity contract on the coffee table yesterday.

He had always been like this.

He never withheld affection, but his warmth was diluted across two women. The remaining half offered to me was just enough to keep me from walking away.

Mindy suddenly put down her chopsticks, pulled out her phone, and flipped the screen toward Gary. "Gary, look! The wedding portraits from yesterday came back. The photographer said the shots turned out incredible!"

On the screen was a professionally edited photograph.

Mindy was wearing my wedding gown, standing beside Gary in front of a floral wall. His hand rested lightly around her waist, his chin resting against the crown of her head.

The composition was indistinguishable from any real wedding portrait. They looked exactly like a couple about to walk down the aisle.

Gary took the phone and scanned it. "Turned out nicely."

"The photographer even said we have amazing chemistry," Mindy said, turning toward me with an innocent smile. "Rachel, look. Doesn't it look great?"

I picked up my teacup, took a slow sip, and did not glance at the photo.

"Does Rachel not like it?" Her voice dropped into a faint murmur. "I can ask the photographer to delete them..."

"Don't delete them," Gary interrupted. "We already shot them anyway."

Mindy hesitated. "But Rachel looks unhappy..."

"Rachel is always like this, don't pay it any mind," he said, throwing a brief glance my way. "When she gets moody, she just ignores people. She will get over it in a couple of days."

She will get over it in a couple of days.

He said the exact same thing last time, and the time before that. Every time I expressed my hurt, his answer was always the same: She will get over it in a couple of days.

It was as if all my emotions were nothing more than a passing breeze that would blow away on its own.

"Gary, about Thursday's contract signing..." I spoke up suddenly.

His hand paused mid-air. "Didn't I say we would discuss it later?"

"Later is right now. I am signing that contract myself."

Mindy's gaze flicked between Gary and me. "Maybe I should step away to the restroom..."

"No need," I looked straight at Gary. "I am only asking one thing. Are you going to give me the original copy inside the safe or not?"

He set his chopsticks down and tapped his fingers rhythmically against the wooden table. "Rachel, that contract involves internal asset realignments within Atherton Corporation. Mindy worked on this with their team for three months. She handled every piece of communication. If you switch people now, the other party will not agree."

"Did you consult me before using equity under my name for your corporate realignment?"

"If I consulted you, would you even understand it?"

The moment those words slipped out of his mouth, he froze.

Silence fell over the table.

Mindy let out a timely, delicate sigh. "Gary, don't talk to Rachel like that."

She turned to grasp my hand. Her palm was cold. "Rachel, Gary didn't mean it like that. He has just been under a lot of pressure at work lately. If you want to sign the contract yourself, I will organize all the files and hand them over to you, okay?"

Her words were sweet and selfless. But as she held my hand, her thumb rested directly against the pulse on my wrist, as if testing my heart rate.

Gary softened his expression slightly. "I spoke too harshly just now. But Rachel, you really do not know the details of this project. If you go sign blindly and something goes wrong, who takes responsibility?"

"I take responsibility. It is my equity."

He opened his mouth, but ended up saying nothing, picking up his glass to take a gulp of wine instead.

The dinner ended in a heavy, awkward silence.

On the drive back to the apartment, Gary kept his eyes on the road and remained completely silent.

Once inside, he tossed his keys onto the console and headed straight for the study.

Passing by me, he threw out a single sentence. "If you want to sign it, go ahead. I will text you the safe code tomorrow."

The study door shut firmly behind him.

My phone screen flickered.

A message from Mindy popped up: Rachel, the code Gary gave me is your anniversary date! He said only the most important person knows this code.

Followed by a smiley face.

I stared at that smiley face for three seconds.

Then I opened my notes app and saved the string of numbers.

4

"Are you not going out today?"

The next morning, Gary stepped out of the walk-in closet, buttoning his cuffs as he glanced over at me sitting by the window alcove.

"No."

He gave a low murmur, leaning down to press a kiss against my forehead before leaving. His lips were dry and the gesture brief, like a mechanical habit.

"It is Mindy's birthday tonight. I promised to host a small party for her. Are you coming?"

"No."

He paused for a beat. "Rachel..."

"Go handle your business."

He stood there for two seconds before finally pulling the door open and leaving.

I waited ten minutes, making sure his car had driven out of the complex.

Then I stepped down from the window alcove and walked into his study.

The safe was hidden inside a concealed compartment behind the bookshelf.

Six digits. June seventeenth, the day Gary and I officially started dating.

I pressed the numbers. A green light flashed, and the safe door popped open.

Inside lay only three items: the original equity transfer agreement, a flash drive, and a stack of photographs bound by a paperclip.

I picked up the agreement first.

Mindy had indeed completed three months of prep work, but the designated beneficiary in every clause was still my name. She had not altered that yet. It was not time.

I did not plug in the flash drive, slipping it straight into my jacket pocket instead.

The photographs were snapshots from Gary and Mindy's various stand-in games over the years.

Round One: High school alumni reunion. She wore my signature makeup style, sitting right beside him.

Round Three: My birthday party. Guests toasted her with birthday wishes while she blew out the candles in my place.

Round Six: The engagement ceremony. I had thought I was simply thirty minutes late due to traffic, only to arrive and find out the entire ritual had already been completed by her.

On the back of every photograph was Mindy's handwriting: the date, her record, the number of people fooled, the duration of the deception, and Gary's score for her performance.

The highest score belonged to the engagement ceremony. A perfect score.

Beside it, Gary had written four words in his distinct handwriting: Passes for the real.

I placed the photos back inside and shut the safe.

I reset the passcode to a sequence Mindy could never guess: my mother's birthday.

I folded the original equity contract and slipped it into the inner lining of my coat.

Then I returned to the bedroom and zipped my suitcase shut.

My flight was scheduled for four in the afternoon. Plenty of time.

My phone rang. A voice message from Gary.

I tapped it. His voice came through amidst a noisy background, sounding like a shopping mall. "Can you order Mindy's birthday cake? She likes tiramisu flavor."

A fiancé asking his bride-to-be to order a birthday cake for his female best friend.

I exited the chat, opened a bakery app, and ordered a customized tiramisu cake.

In the special instructions box, I typed: Happy Birthday. Enjoy the show. Signed, Rachel.

This was the very last thing I would ever do for him.

Just past noon, I stood in the entryway with my luggage.

I took one last look around the apartment I had lived in for eight months. On the living room gallery wall, a blank frame still waited for our wedding portraits.

Now, that frame would hold Mindy's face instead.

I put on my shoes and unlocked the front door.

A man was standing right outside in the hallway.

He wore a tailored suit, holding two coffee cups in his hand. His sharp brows and defined features were deeper and far colder than Gary's.

"Miss Rachel?" He looked down at the suitcase by my feet, then raised his eyes with a calm that bordered on detachment.

"Ben." He offered one of the coffee cups to me. "Gary's half-brother."

I did not reach for it.

He did not pull his hand back either, simply stating in an even voice, "I am here to retrieve the original Atherton agreement. Authorized directly by corporate legal. It has nothing to do with your fiancé."

"The agreement is right here."

"I know." He glanced at my luggage. "Which means my timing is just right."

The sensor lights in the hallway dimmed, then flickered back on.

He tilted his head slightly, as if re-evaluating me. "Are you leaving?"

"That is none of your business."

"Indeed, it is not." He set the coffee cup on the shoe cabinet by the door, took a step back, and handed me a formal legal notice from his briefcase.

"But the contract is my business. Gary has no authority to manipulate your equity for corporate transfers, because those original shares were gifted to your father by my late mother."

I scanned the legal notice. Official seal, signatures, dates. Everything was legitimate.

"Are you saying Gary had no right to handle these shares from the start?"

"He managed them for three months, and from what I can see, he made a complete mess of it." Ben's tone remained flat, as if discussing an impersonal matter.

I pulled the original agreement from my coat pocket and handed it to him.

He flipped through two pages, his brows knitting slightly. "He handed this to an outsider without even reading the clause on beneficiary rights?"

"That outsider is currently helping him replace me, piece by piece."

Ben closed the document and looked at me.

For the first time, a trace of warmth entered his gaze, though it was not pity. It felt more like a quiet validation.

"Miss Rachel, I will handle Atherton's corporate matters. Your equity will remain completely safe."

He stepped aside, clearing the hallway.

I pulled my suitcase past him.

After three steps, his voice sounded from behind me.

"If you need legal council when you arrive in Oceanside, call this number."

A business card was tucked under the sleeve of the coffee cup he had left behind.

I picked up the cup, taking the card with me.

As the elevator doors glided shut, my phone vibrated one last time.

A text from Gary: Did you order the cake?

I did not reply.

I dragged his number straight into my block list.

The wheels of my suitcase rolled crisply across the marble floor of the main lobby.

Outside, the rain had stopped. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the glass doors, landing on the tips of my shoes.

I walked out into the light.