02

Sophia's POV

My socks squeak against the kitchen floor as I move to the beat blasting from my old music player.

“Yay!” I clapped my hands in victory after finally nailing the new dance routine I’ve been practicing all week. 

I catch my reflection in the oven door — I was sweaty, messy, but still grinning like an idiot.

“You can do this.” I murmur to myself before I launch into a long pirouette.

And of course… the back of my heel hits the counter.

“Ugh! Stupid idea …” I gritted my teeth while kicking the counter with my other leg as of it was its idea to turn turn in the kitchen.

“Totally a national championship material.” Slow clapping comes from behind me.

I turn and find Lisa leaning in the doorway with a mug, wearing that smirk she always had whenever she is mocking me.

“Should I order you a wheelchair now?” she asks. “You’re going to need it when you finally break something.”

“Not funny,” I shoot back and walk to turn the music player down. “And for the record, this is the start of greatness. Just wait the Nationals will be my big break.”

“Or,” she says, raising her mug like she’s delivering bad news, “you’ll end up in a ‘Fail Compilation’ video. Title: ‘Wannabe National champion dancer goes viral for falling into a judge’s lap.’”

I grab a kitchen towel and throw it at her. 

She dodges, laughing like a maniac and spillimg some coffee on the floor.

“Great,” I mutter, wiping it. “Now the whole kitchen smells like caffeine.”

“Oops.” 

I roll my eyes brfire staring out of the window as my smile widens.

Nationals… if I win, the prize money would change everything. 

I could clear mom’s hospital bills. 

Maybe even help Lisa with her student loan. 

Dad wouldn’t have to keep driving those intimidating Blackwoods around every day, I would set up a mini family shop.

But… where exactly am I supposed to find the money to register?

“You’re overthinking…. again” Lisa says suddenly. “Your face does that weird thing when you do. Like a cartoon villain planning world domination.”

“I’m serious,” I sigh. “Finding the money is hard… even if dad manages to get it what if…what if I don’t fail again.”

“You won’t,” she says softly. “You’ve worked too hard to fail and even if you do, you might get a connection from just participating, you know z Nationals or not… Soph, you’re going to make it someday.”

I open my mouth to reply but a sharp knock at the door breaks the moment.

We both freeze.

“Did you order pizza?” Lisa whispers.

“At eight-thirty pm? No.”

She steps toward the door but stops, lifting her mug like a weapon. “Okay, I’m not saying it’s a serial killer, but just know I always loved you even though we fight and—”

“Lisa.” I grunted, I roll my eyes and peek through the small window beside the door.

A man in a suit stands on our porch, adjusting his tie.

He does not look like someone who belongs in our neighborhood.

What is he doing here? 

“Who is it?” Lisa hisses, pressing behind me but I push her away.

I open the door halfway, gripping the handle tightly. “Hello… how can I help you?”

His eyes move from me to Lisa, then back to me. “Is Mr. Carter at home?”

“Yes…?” I say slowly, suddenly aware I’m wearing oversized sweatpants and a sweater that looks like I stole it from a dumpster.

I feel like nothing standing before him, Infact his presence made me feel as if I do not have the right to stand before him.

“I am here on behalf of Mr. Charles Blackwood. May I come in?”

Blackwood?

I blink, step aside, and let him in. Lisa rushes upstairs to get Dad.

The Blackwood family is one of the biggest names in New Marlia.

They are rich, powerful and strong. DAD had been working for them even before I was born.

But they've never sent someone to our house before now, I just hope all is well.

The man walks in, his polished shoes clicking on our floor. His eyes sweep our tiny living room, the old sofa, the worn carpet… and even though he tries to hide it, I can see pity flicker across his face.

Dad finally comes down, breathless. “Good evening, Mr. Alfred,” he says, bowing slightly.

“Good evening, Mr. Carter.” The man slides an envelope out of his briefcase. 

The envelope has the BLACKWOOD name on it, bold and heavy.

“Sir Blackwood ordered me to deliver this. You are asked to meet him concerning it in three days. I shall take my leave now.”

He leaves, and the house goes silent.

All our eyes are on the envelope.

Dad starts pacing rven before opening it which makes me so dead worried.

Lisa drums her mug on her knee and My fingers curl around each other unsure of what to do or say.

I know we all have one thought in mind but no one dares say it loud.

“Well?” Lisa blurts out. “Sack letters don’t come in fancy envelopes. Open it.”

“Maybe it’s nothing,” I say, even though my stomach is twisted into knots.

Dad shakes his head. “Nothing from Charles Blackwood is ever ‘nothing.’”

I swallow, walk to the envelope, and tear it open with trembling fingers.

Thick cream-colored paper slides out.

My eyes catch the bold words at the top:

★ Proposal for Betrothal Agreement ★

My blood turns to ice.

“What the actual—”

Lisa snatches it from my hand, reading fast. Her eyes widen with every line. “Wait. Wait. Oh my God. This says marriage. Marriage?! Sophia is getting married?!”

I blink hard as my brain refuses to process the words.

“It’s a mistake,” I whisper. “It has to be.” 

Dad’s face goes pale. “There’s no mistake. Charles Blackwood… mentioned something about this last week.”

“What??” Lisa and I snap together.

“He approached me,” Dad says, guilt heavy in his voice. “He said it was for the good of both families. He offered a compensation… an arrangement to secure the future. I didn’t think he was serious.”

“Compensation?” I whisper like the word tastes poisonous. “Dad… did you agree to this?”

He didn't answer but his silence is loud.

Lisa lets out a hysterical half-laugh. “Soph, this is insane. They want you to marry some rich CEO or whoever in one month? Common dad, this is not happening.”

The letter feels like it weighs a thousand kilograms in my hand. 

My dreams of Nationals… my future… my choices… everything cracks in my chest.

“I won’t do it,” I say, voice shaking but firm. “I don’t care what they’re offering.”

Dad drops onto the couch and buries his face in his hands. “Sophia, think. What this could mean for our family, for you, for your mother… for Lisa. Opportunities like this come once in a lifetime.”

My throat tightens.

Is Dad really saying this?

I would do anything — anything to save my family.

But marry a stranger?

“Really? I can’t believe you, Dad.” I stand abruptly and the letter slips from my fingers. “I need air.”

“Sophia—” Dad calls, but I’m already outside.

The cool night hits my face like a slap. 

I grip the porch rail, trying to slow my breathing.

Is this even real or another bad dream? 

What's wrong with dad? 

Why me?

Why now? 

I’m so close to achieving my dream… the one thing I’ve worked for my whole life.

And suddenly, I’m supposed to marry some spoiled billionaire brat who sleeps with half the city?

Behind me, I hear Lisa’s voice from the window.

“What are we going to do?”

I stare into the dark street.

“I'm not getting married to him, and that's final!” I said.