Chapter 2

I don't know how I made it home.

It was pouring outside. I didn't bother with an umbrella. I let the cold rain wash away every trace of the careful makeup I'd spent hours on. My dress soaked through and hung heavy on my body, dragging at my steps, the way my heart was dragging as it sank.

The key scraped against the lock for a long time before the door finally clicked open.

The apartment was silent as a tomb.

Vivian and I had lived here for three years. After graduation, to save money and look out for each other, we'd split the rent on this two-bedroom. I used to think we were each other's anchor in this cold, indifferent city.

When she ran a fever, I stayed up all night pressing cool cloths to her forehead. When I worked late, she'd leave the hallway light on and keep a bowl of soup warm on the stove.

The first time I introduced Ethan to her, she'd looped her arm through mine and jokingly promised to vet him thoroughly, to make sure he was good enough, to protect me from any man who might hurt me.

Now, every one of those memories felt like a barb turning inward, shredding tissue with every breath I took.

I walked barefoot to the bathroom.

Two towels hung side by side on the wall. Blue and pink. The pink one was mine.

I remembered folding it into a neat square before I left this morning. Now one corner drooped loose, still damp, the fabric holding the vague imprint of someone else's use.

On the edge of the sink, the inside of my pink cup held a smeared, blurred stain near the rim.

Lipstick. The rotten-tomato red that Vivian always wore.

I lurched toward the toilet and heaved, my stomach turning itself inside out until my eyes were streaming.

Every detail had been there the whole time. I just hadn't wanted to see it.

My phone started vibrating violently in my pocket. The name on the screen read: Ethan's Mom.

His mother. Linda Crawford.

I swiped to answer. On the other end of the line came ten, fifteen seconds of loaded silence — just the weight of someone's controlled breathing.

"Our family has always had a spotless reputation." Linda's voice finally came through. Cold and hard as iron. "We don't bring in filth."

"What happened tonight at the party made us the laughingstock of this entire city. We agreed to this engagement because we thought you were a decent, respectable girl. I had no idea you were this kind of person."

"You've seen the prenuptial agreement. Misconduct on one party's part constitutes absolute fault."

"You leave with nothing. The gifts, the cost of tonight's event, the jewelry — Ethan will come to collect them tomorrow. You'd better have every single item accounted for and ready. If anything is missing, we'll see each other in court."

The line went dead.

Silence rushed back in.

I sat holding the phone. The screen lit up on its own. A new message. From Ethan.

Five words: Give me back the ring.