Chapter 2

Gemma froze. Before she could even process what Harry meant, Rachel swept into the classroom, surrounded by a few classmates. She looked mockingly aggrieved. "Harry, I lost the bet. I can't believe you actually fed Gemma laxatives. I totally believe you don't like her at all now."

As she spoke, she blinked at Gemma in feigned surprise. "He put an entire bottle of laxatives in there. You seriously didn't taste anything off?"

Harry let out a cold laugh. "I could feed her poison, and she'd still swallow it like candy."

Gemma went rigid in disbelief. A sharp, twisting pain tore through her stomach, and her forehead was slick with cold sweat in no time.

They were about to sit for their final mock exam before the college entrance exam. It was crucial.

But that whole afternoon, she kept sprinting to the restroom in humiliation. The mocking looks from her classmates and the proctor's glares felt like steel nails hammering straight into her pride, tearing it to shreds.

In the end, she was completely spent and blacked out in the hallway on her way back to class. All Harry did was lean against the classroom door, watching her with a wicked smile. "Only 27 trips and you're already done? You're pathetic, Gemma."

His voice seemed to come from very far away. In that moment, she realized being thick-skinned didn't help at all. A pelting storm could still hurt her.

It was already the next day when Gemma woke up again. The nurse told her the laxatives had worsened her stomach condition, and she'd almost ended up with a perforated ulcer.

She stared blankly toward the door. Had Harry brought her here?

"Oh, right. Your homeroom teacher brought you in," the nurse added. "He also fronted your medical expenses and asked me to tell you to get better soon so you don't miss the exam."

That tiny, pathetic bit of hope in Gemma's chest shattered at those words.

Of course. Harry had fed her the laxatives himself and watched coldly as she embarrassed herself. Why would he care if she lived or died?

Her phone wouldn't stop buzzing. It was her class group chat.

In the student-only group, Rachel excitedly announced that she was treating everyone to dinner before the exam so they could relax a bit. At the same time, she wanted to celebrate that she'd gotten herself a boyfriend.

The attached picture was of two hands with their fingers interlaced.

With just one look, Gemma recognized the hand on top. There were two small black dots side by side at the base between the thumb and index finger, almost like a snakebite.

It was Harry's hand.

A prickling ache crawled over her heart, dense and sharp.

She just couldn't wrap her head around it. She and Harry had known each other for 18 years. How could his attitude toward her flip so completely just because she'd taken one week off from school?

She tried calling him, but she couldn't get through. He'd blocked her. Every message she sent bounced back undelivered.

Gemma stared blankly at the rejected messages.

Just then, the housekeeper, Wanda Green, called. "Ms. Gemma, your father brought his mistress home."

Gemma's stomach lurched. She rushed home immediately. What she never expected was to see Rachel in her house.

"Gemma, this is Lena York and her daughter, Rachel," her father, William Sinclair, said. "Starting today, they're moving in with us. We're all gonna live together."

Gemma glared at William's smug, self-satisfied face, her eyes red as she shouted, "My mom's not even dead yet, William! Get them out!"

William's smile stiffened, and his face turned thunderous. "Your mom's a wreck from chemo—she's barely human at this point. The fact that I haven't divorced her yet is me being generous.

"As for Lena and Rachel, I won't make anything official before your mom dies. But if you dare kick up a fuss, don't blame me when I cut off your mom's chemo money!"

Gemma couldn't believe her ears. She stared at him, stunned, as he wrapped an arm around Lena's shoulders and led her upstairs. Her blood turned to ice.

"Surprised, Gemma?" Rachel leaned in close, smiling provocatively. "Haven't you noticed we kinda look alike? I'm even five months older than you."

Gemma's eyes blew wide. She snapped her gaze to Rachel.

Rachel's smile grew even brighter. "You stole my dad, so I'm gonna take everything you care about, including your reputation and Harry, the guy you like. That's the only way to make things fair."

Gemma finally snapped. She slapped Rachel hard across the face.

"How dare you hit me!" Rachel shrieked and lunged at Gemma. "Wanna know why Harry suddenly turned on you? Because I slept with him! Once a guy's had a taste, he'll believe anything I say.

"He couldn't even tell when I used a burner account to pretend to be you. He genuinely thought it was you who posted his mom's business online as a joke… Ah!"

In the middle of their struggle, they lost their balance and crashed into a three-foot-tall antique vase. It shattered into pieces; they went down onto the broken shards, blood immediately welling up all over them.

Harry reached the doorway just in time to see it happen. He immediately charged in, yanked Gemma off Rachel, and flung her aside.

Gemma's head slammed into a cabinet. Her vision went dark for a second, and warm blood trickled down along her brow. Through the red haze that quickly colored her sight, she saw Harry carefully scoop Rachel up in his arms.

When he turned to look at Gemma, his gaze was glacial. "I can't believe you're already going this hard at Rachel right after I got together with her. She's your half-sister, for crying out loud!"

Half-sister. Those words were like knives, hacking Gemma's heart into pieces.

So Harry knew that Rachel was William's illegitimate daughter?

Right then, William and Lena came running out of the bedroom at the noise.

Gemma silently watched as Harry and William hovered frantically over Rachel, fussing over her cuts and calling an ambulance. Neither of them even turned to look at her.

She started laughing. But as she laughed, tears burst free, spilling down her face in a tidal wave she couldn't stop.

Only after the villa went quiet again did she brace herself against the wall and stagger to her feet. Then, she dialed a number.

"Professor Ward, I've decided not to take the college entrance exam or stay in Meropia. If your medical school is still willing to have me, could you agree to one condition?"