Chapter 3

"Jeremy Landon" was nothing more than "Jenny" and "Lennon" blended into one. It was Conrad's quiet way of honoring a love he could never admit.

I'd seen it coming, but watching it happen right before me still made my chest ache with a dull, persistent pain.

Gideon stepped closer and said gently, "Don't worry. You'll always be the leading lady in my films."

I shook my head with a bitter smile. "That's kind of you, but I don't think I'll ever have that chance again."

Playing dumb, Conrad pulled me into his arms and comforted me. "How about I fund a few films so you can enjoy the thrill of the spotlight? I've got a surprise for you tonight at Wharfside Promenade. Trust me, being loved by me beats being any leading lady."

I forced a smile. Words that used to feel sweet now stuck to me like old, sickly frosting. But I didn't want him to suspect anything, so I swallowed them down anyway.

"Sure," I replied.

I was planning to leave after thanking Gideon and the other industry veterans.

Conrad sent the driver away and offered to take me for a ride. He was just about to start the engine when his phone buzzed with a text.

I stole a glance at the screen. I knew that number. It was Jenny's.

His expression shifted instantly, and he hesitated before turning to me. "Jean, there's an emergency at work. Do you mind going to Wharfside Promenade by yourself?"

I paused for a moment before smiling. "Don't worry about me. Go take care of what you need to."

Conrad kissed my forehead, then rushed back toward the banquet hall.

I started the car and returned to the Lennon residence instead of heading to Wharfside Promenade.

From now on, I'd be putting everything into preparing for my own staged death, which was happening soon.

I gathered every last memory of Conrad and me. I erased every digital trace, even the backups in my cloud. As for the physical ones? I burned them all.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed with an anonymous message. I opened it to find a photo of Conrad, drunk, passed out beside Jenny.

"He kept taking drinks for me, even though he's got a stomach condition. You won't blame me for that, will you, Jean?"

"Yeah, he'll openly feud with the Gleasons and snatch my opportunities, but in private? He's paid me back tenfold. Do you know why?"

"Did you even notice Conrad's been following me around like a shadow since we were kids? He's always been in love with me. Marrying you? That was just his way of keeping you under control."

"Or did you actually believe someone could ever love you for no reason?"

"He told me that every night, he could only stand sleeping with you by pretending you were me. He said you were just Joel's leftovers. You weren't even a virgin when Conrad took you. You disgust him!"

Text messages flooded in, one after another.

But I stayed calm, picking up speed as I packed my things.

After moving the fake body to the bedroom and making sure it would be burned completely, I doused the entire room in gasoline.

Then, I forwarded all of Jenny's texts to the most notorious paparazzi in the entertainment business. I pulled out the SIM card, broke it in half, and tossed it into the bushes.

I hit the detonator and walked alone toward the far horizon. Ahead lay only darkness, but it didn't matter. Dawn would come eventually.

…

Meanwhile, Conrad had no idea what was happening on the other side.

He looked down at Jenny, his voice unintentionally sharp. "Why are you here, Jenny? Tomorrow is Jean's and my anniversary. She'll get suspicious."

Jenny's eyes welled up. "So this is my fault?"

Conrad panicked and immediately backtracked. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry, Jenny."

Jenny crossed her arms and gave a quiet huff, reluctantly accepting his apology.

Just then, Conrad's phone rang. It was Ernest Hale, the Lennon family's butler.

Conrad frowned and silenced the call. This went on over a dozen times before he realized something was off. "What is it?"

"Mr. Lennon, it's bad news. Mrs. Lennon… s-she set herself on fire! We tried everything to put it out, but… it was too late," the butler replied.