9. The lie takes root

Maya POV

I don’t knock.

I never knock anymore.

This house already feels like it’s supposed to know me, like it should open its doors without asking questions. I step inside and breathe in deep, slow, letting the smell of the place sink into me. Wood polish. Expensive soap. That faint clean scent that always clung to Ethan like he belonged here.

Maria looks up from the hallway, surprise flashing over her face for just a second before she masks it.

“Oh,” she says. “Miss Maya. I didn’t know you were coming.”

I smile. Soft. Sweet. Practiced. “I thought I’d help today. Ethan’s been having such a hard time.”

She doesn’t smile back.

“My work isn’t done yet,” Maria says carefully. “Mr. Carter didn’t say—”

“You can leave,” I cut in.

She blinks. “Excuse me.”

“I said you can leave,” I repeat, sharper now. “I’ll take care of things from here.”

Maria straightens, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s been in this house longer than I have. Longer than Lena even. She knows how things work here. She knows when something feels wrong.

“That’s not how this works,” she says. “Mr. Carter didn’t dismiss me.”

Something hot snaps in my chest.

“I am going to be the new lady of this house,” I snap. “You can go.”

Silence hangs heavy between us.

Maria stares at me for a long moment, eyes narrowing. Then she shakes her head slowly.

“If that ever happens,” she says calmly, “then Mr. Carter should know I’m firing myself. I won’t work for a manipulative bitch.”

She walks away before I can stop her.

I stand there, fists clenched, heart pounding, rage burning so sharp it makes my vision blur.

Stupid woman. Stupid loyal woman.

I take a deep breath and smooth my dress, forcing the anger down. This house doesn’t need to see that part of me yet.

I head for the kitchen.

Cooking helps. It always has. It’s something Lena was good at too, which used to piss me off, but I learned early that if you want to take someone’s place, you don’t fight their strengths. You steal them.

I pull things from the fridge like I’ve done it a hundred times. Pasta. Sauce. Wine. His favorites. The things Lena used to make when she wanted him calm, when she wanted him soft.

I glance around the kitchen, smiling slowly.

Soon all of this will be mine.

I walk through the house while things simmer, fingers trailing over expensive furniture, doorframes, the banister of the stairs. I imagine my shoes by the door. My clothes in the closets. My name spoken here like it belongs.

The foyer stops me.

The portrait.

Ethan and Lena on their wedding day.

Her white dress. His stupid soft smile. His hand resting on her waist like he was afraid she’d float away if he let go.

My chest tightens with something ugly.

It’s still here.

I walk up to it slowly, staring at her face. That perfect, innocent look. Like she never did anything wrong. Like she didn’t steal everything from me.

I take the frame off the wall.

The glass rattles as I carry it into the kitchen.

I grab a knife from the counter. Not thinking. Or maybe thinking very clearly.

I stab it.

Once. Twice. Again.

Right through her face.

“You had it all,” I hiss. “Everything. And now I’m taking it.”

I stab it again, harder. “Don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

The sound of cracking glass is sharp, satisfying.

My hands shake when I finally stop.

I breathe hard and lean against the counter, memories flooding in whether I want them or not.

The orphanage.

The smell of cheap soap and old food. The way everyone watched the door, waiting for someone to come and choose them.

Lena and me used to be close. We shared everything. Food. Secrets. A bed when one of us had nightmares. I thought she was my person.

Then Ethan showed up.

With his parents. With their money. With their soft voices and clean clothes.

I noticed him immediately. Tall. Quiet. Different. And I heard the adults whispering about the Carters like they were royalty.

I wanted him.

I wanted that life.

But Lena had to be the favorite. Always Lena. Ethan looked at her like she was the only thing in the room. He protected her from bullies. From teachers. From everyone.

The same bullies I fed lies to, whispering just enough to keep things messy.

Middle school. High school. College.

Every time, Ethan chose her.

Every damn time.

I tried with his parents too. Smiled. Helped. Acted grateful. Caroline Carter saw right through me. She never liked me. Never trusted me. She made it obvious who mattered.

Lena got the gifts. The attention. The love.

The engagement broke something in me.

I smiled. Hugged her. Helped plan the wedding like a good friend.

Keenan was there too. That gay asshole. Always watching. Always noticing. He caught on when I tried to steer things my way, told Lena to choose what she wanted instead.

I hated him for that.

I should’ve gotten rid of him then.

But I waited.

I always wait.

I toss the broken picture into the trash and straighten, smoothing my hair again.

Tonight is just the beginning.

Ethan will come home. He’ll be angry. Hurt. Confused. And I’ll be there. Cooking. Listening. Understanding.

I’ll cry for him. I’ll tell him how sorry I am. I’ll tell him Lena fooled us all.

And he’ll believe me.

Because the lie only needs one thing to grow.

Time.

And I’ve been waiting since I was ten.