Chapter 2

Amelia’s POV

“I was just leaving—” I explained, closing my suitcase, hoping this would be the end of the questions. 

“What are you doing in Cayden’s house, dressed like… that?” his father asked, looking me up and down.

“Haven’t you taken enough from us?” His mother followed up. 

I almost laughed, because what had I ever taken? A bed, a secondhand laptop, a place in a house where I was always reminded I didn’t belong?

“You’re an adult,” she continued. “You need to get a job and a life, not hang around your brother in… whatever outfit this is.” 

“I’m not surprised this is how she’s trying to stay in his life,” his father spat cruelly. 

“Would you two stop?” I pleaded, knowing I sounded weak. “Please, I am leaving.” 

“Good, the sooner the better,” his mother said curtly. 

With tears streaming down my face, I pulled my suitcase off the bed and rolled it to the front door and out into the corridor. 

Cayden’s parents—Charlie and Judith—never actually loved me. I was a PR move and absolutely nothing more. They made sure I knew it all my life; no birthdays, no presents, no affection, nothing that might make me forget my place in their world. 

That also meant… I owed them. 

Charlie Morgan had kept strict accounts of every penny I had cost him—education, clothes, electronics, even food. They told me that once I had turned 18, it was my responsibility to start paying them back. 

I never told anybody, not even Cayden, about that deal. He already had to shoulder the burden of inheriting his father’s business, which, admittedly, was failing. Cayden was their hope. His ideas, his efforts, would be required to salvage what was left. 

Their downfall, however, did not make the Morgans any humbler. 

“Wait,” Judith’s voice came from behind me. 

I turned to face her. “Yes?” 

“You have to come to the engagement party tomorrow,” she said, so casually that she might as well have asked me to pick up some milk on my way back home.

“Cayden told me—” I said. “I’ll be there.” 

Because I knew what this really was. 

The facade of a perfect family. 

***

The motel room was sterile, smelling faintly of bleach and slightly damp carpet. 

I dropped my suitcase by the door and sat on the edge of the creaky bed, staring at nothing, when my phone buzzed.

“Amelia?” Dr. Pierce’s voice carried its usual clinical calm. “I’ve sent over the cost estimates. You need to start preparing as soon as possible. I don’t recommend waiting.”

My chest tightened. “I’m… still managing on my own,” I said, the words tasting like denial. “I can handle things for now.”

There was a pause on her end. 

Then, firmer: “You may feel fine, Amelia, but your condition can deteriorate suddenly. If it does, you won’t have time to prepare. Have the money ready. If there’s an episode, you’ll need to be hospitalized immediately.”

“I know, doc, I just need a bit of time.” 

“Can’t your parents help?” she asked. 

I almost laughed. 

“I’ll manage,” I told her before hanging up. 

I set the phone down and pressed my hand over my sternum. The pacemaker hummed faintly, steady and mechanical, as if mocking the weakness of the heart it replaced. 

Just graduated, barely any savings, and now every bank and insurance company had shut its doors on me. 

Too risky. Too flawed. Too expensive to keep alive.

I lay back on the bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, and let the truth sink in. I had no one. 

No plan. Just time running out inside my chest.

Which was why, tomorrow, no matter how humiliating it would be, I had to attend his engagement party. 

One last chance to beg him face-to-face. 

One last chance to remind him that if he let me go completely… I might not survive.

***

The ballroom was a kaleidoscope of champagne flutes and crystal chandeliers, but I couldn’t breathe. 

Every laugh, every flash of a camera felt like it was trained on me, even as I tried to blend into the wallpaper. 

I hadn’t been here five minutes before Cayden found me.

He caught my wrist, dragging me into the shadows of a corridor lined with portraits of ancestors who all looked like they’d never made a mistake in their lives. His jaw was tight, his grip bruising.

“Did you tell them?” he hissed.

“What?” My voice cracked.

“My parents,” he snapped. “About us.”

“No! I would never—”

He yanked something from his pocket and shoved it against my chest. A Polaroid photograph. 

My breath stopped. 

Us—entangled, his hand in my hair, my face tilted to his like he was starving for me. 

Evidence. The worst kind. 

“You dropped it when you were leaving,” Cayden said, his voice low and vicious. “Deliberately. Thought you were clever, didn’t you? Thought you could trap me, ruin everything?”

The room tilted. “No—I must’ve—” I shook my head hard, tears pricking my eyes. “I didn’t mean for them to see that, Cayden. I swear, I—”

“Save it,” he cut in, every word like glass under my skin.

And then I heard her.

Scarlett’s laugh, polished and light, as she glided toward us with two friends in tow. Her eyes flicked between Cayden’s hand still on my arm and my tear-streaked face. 

Suspicion hardened into something sharper.

Her eyes. Green, bright as shattered glass. The same color Cayden always claimed to love in me. Look at me, Amelia. Let me drown in them, he’d beg me. 

The truth hit like a blade sliding between my ribs. 

I was never the one he loved. I was a stand-in. A substitute. 

Scarlett arched a brow. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cayden said quickly, too quickly, pulling his hand away from me like I burned him.

He turned with her, already walking away, but desperation clawed up my throat before I could stop it. “Cayden—wait.”

He froze, shoulders stiff.

“I need to talk to you,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “About the surgery. I can’t afford it. Please… if you don’t help me—”

Scarlett tugged his arm. “We’re going to be late.”

“I don’t have time for this,” he said coldly, without looking at me.

“This isn’t a game!” The words tumbled out, raw and humiliating. “If you don’t help me, I’ll die.”

For the first time, he turned. 

His eyes met mine, but there was no softness left, no trace of the boy who once kissed me like I was air after drowning. Only disdain.

He leaned in, his voice so low only I could hear it. “You’re a smart girl, Amelia, you’ll figure it out. Just like you almost found a way to ruin my life with that damn photo.”

And just like that, he walked away, Scarlett’s hand on his arm, leaving me standing alone beneath the chandeliers, my heart tearing itself apart as it counted down.