The second class began. Students filed back in, their voices low, their footsteps quick. The professor stood at the front, arranging his notes, waiting for everyone to settle.

Lily slipped in late, her cheeks flushed, her books clutched to her chest, her blue eyes wide and apologetic.

"Sorry," she whispered to no one in particular.

She scanned the room for an empty seat. Then her eyes stuck on the open space next to Bella.

Lily hesitated, then walked over. "Can I sit here?"

Bella looked up and smiled, warm, genuine. "Of course."

Lily sat down beside her, setting her books on the desk. Karl nodded at her in greeting. Lily nodded back, shy but pleased.

The professor began the lecture.

Mira watched from across the room.

Lily was laughing at something Karl whispered. Bella was writing notes, occasionally glancing at Lily with a soft smile. They looked comfortable together.

Mira’s stomach twisted.

She didn’t like Lily. She was so eager. As soon as she saw a chance, she started clinging to Bella like a lost puppy, always hovering, always smiling, always finding excuses to be near her. And now she was taking Mira’s place.

Mira’s hands curled into fists under her desk.

She knew it was her fault. She knew she had pushed Bella away, betrayed her trust, chosen Krystal over someone who had actually cared about her.

But watching Lily slide into the space she had once occupied, watching Bella smile at her, talk to her, include her, made Mira feel like she was being erased.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

After classes ended, Karl insisted on taking Bella and Lily to a nearby restaurant for lunch. The place was small, tucked between a bookstore and a laundromat, with red-checkered tablecloths and the smell of garlic bread wafting through the air. They ordered pizza and shared a pitcher of lemonade, and for a little while, everything felt easy.

Lily talked about her cat’s new kittens, how they were starting to wobble around on tiny legs and follow her everywhere. Karl described his football practice, the way the coach had screamed at them for missing passes. Bella listened, laughed, added stories of her own.

When they returned to campus, a notice on the classroom door announced that their next lecturer was sick and had canceled class for the rest of the day. Students cheered. Bags were grabbed. Phones came out.

Bella said, "I’m going home early."

Karl nodded. "Get some rest. You look tired."

She smiled and waved goodbye.

Lily hugged her, quick and shy and warm, then hurried off toward the library.

Bella walked to the parking lot, climbed into the waiting car, and told the driver to take her home.

The house was quiet when she arrived.

Leo wasn’t back yet. Jay and Jace were still at the office. The servants moved softly through the halls, dusting, polishing, arranging flowers that no one was there to see.

Bella wandered through the living room, the kitchen, the garden. She fed her chipmunks. She sat on the swing and watched the clouds drift past.

She was bored.

She went to her PC room.

She turned on her PC and cracked her knuckles. Then she began to work.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Something to pass the time. Something to occupy her mind.

Her fingers moved across the keyboard, pulling up files, cross-referencing databases, following threads that led nowhere.

Then she typed a name.

Krystal.

A hint of interest sparked in her brown eyes. She leaned forward, her fingers flying faster.

The screen filled with information.

••

Krystal. Age twenty-one. Born in a small town three hours from the city.

Her father was a playboy, charming, handsome, unfaithful. He had affairs with women he met at bars, at hotels, at parties his wife never attended. Her mother was an alcoholic, drowning her sorrows in cheap wine and expensive regrets. They fought constantly, screaming matches that echoed through the house, that frightened the neighbors, that left Krystal hiding in her room with her hands over her ears.

The family fell apart slowly, then all at once.

Two years ago, Krystal’s mother was diagnosed with kidney failure. She needed dialysis. She needed a transplant. She needed money, more money than the family had.

Bella’s eyes narrowed.

A year ago, Krystal’s father was killed. According to police reports, he had been having an affair with a wealthy married woman. Her husband found out. There was a confrontation. A gun went off. Krystal’s father died on the scene.

The wealthy woman’s husband was arrested, charged, convicted. But Krystal saw an opportunity.

She filed a civil lawsuit against the man’s estate. She claimed emotional distress, loss of support, medical expenses for her ailing mother. The case dragged on for months.

Then she dropped it. In exchange for a large, confidential settlement.

Bella’s hands curled into fists.

Krystal took the money. She didn’t use it for her mother’s treatment. She used it for clothes, for makeup, for nights out at expensive clubs. She bought designer bags and shoes and jewelry. She posted photos on social media, smiling, laughing, living a life her mother couldn’t afford.

Her mother’s medical bills were being paid by other people.

Bella dug deeper.

Mira. Donated the largest sum. Followed by students Bella recognized, classmates from their program, from other departments, from the scholarship list.

Kids who worked part-time jobs. Kids who tutored, delivered food, waited tables. Kids who skipped meals to save money. Kids who lived in small apartments and shared rooms and wore secondhand clothes.

They had given Krystal money. Believing her lies. Pitying her story. Wanting to help.

And Krystal had taken it. Smiled. Thanked them. Then spent it on herself.

Bella’s chest burned.

She checked more records. Emails. Text messages. Krystal had different stories for different people. For Mira, she was a victim, abandoned, struggling, desperate. For others, she was a fighter, working hard, barely scraping by, just trying to survive. For a few, she was a friend, loyal, kind, always there when needed.

None of it was real.

Bella sat back in her chair, her eyes fixed on the screen.

Krystal had fooled everyone. Taken advantage of kind people who could barely afford to help themselves. Used their empathy, their generosity, their trust. And now she was trying to destroy Bella for her own fun.

Bella’s jaw tightened.

She wasn’t going to let that happen. And she wasn’t going to let Krystal hurt anyone else.

She began to type, pulling together evidence, building a file, preparing for the moment when she would expose the truth.