Left For Dead

ELARA

I’m not a mean girl by nature, I promise, but seeing the look of pure, startled shock on Miranda’s face at the insult made something inside me purr. 

“What is the meaning of that, Elara? How can you say such a thing to your best friend? What is wrong with you?” Shawn shouted, his voice booming across the canopy. 

He stepped protectively close to Miranda, whose eyes immediately blurred with fake tears. In the next breath, she buried her face against his shirt for consolation, acting as if my words had physically wounded her.

Over a simple insult?

I scoffed, my lip curling in a sneer. The sheer audacity of these fools was breathtaking.

“Is that why she would put her face against the chest of a married man?” 

I made sure my voice was loud, projecting it so the surrounding guests couldn't possibly look away. 

“Or is there something going on here that I’m simply not aware of?”

I caught the guilty, frantic darting of eyes between Shawn and his family—his rude, entitled sisters and his overbearing mother. The air under the canopy grew thick with the sudden, awkward silence of a possible secret being dragged into the light.

Grandpa Max, however, didn’t look guilty. He looked thoughtful. And dangerously angry.

“Shawn, push that woman away from you this instant! Since when did you two become such close friends?”

I smirked, watching Shawn hesitate. He was caught in a visible tug-of-war between his grandfather’s authority and his obsession with Miranda. 

Yet, deep down, a sharp pain kept cracking the remains of my already shattered heart.

This was the man I had given up my life—and my health—for.

And here he was, on the verge of publicly disobeying his grandfather for the first time, all for the woman currently clinging to his buttons like a parasite.

“I doubt he would, Gramps…” I taunted, the bitterness bleeding into my tone as I fought back the tears threatening to spill. “I think they are best friends. Or maybe… they're much more.”

“Shut your mouth, peasant!” Linda shrieked, her eyes unsettled. “You think you can come here and cause a scene? Father, can’t you see what she’s doing? This is your birthday and she is—”

“All I can see is that she is telling the truth,” Grandpa Max interrupted, his voice like gravel. He stared at his grandson, who was still holding Miranda. “Are you cheating on your wife, Shawn?”

Shawn blanched, his face turning a wrong shade of pale as he shook his head quickly. He pushed Miranda away—gently, but with enough force to put distance between them that hadn't been there before.

“Of course not,” he said, rushing to my side. He flung an arm around my waist, pulling me close in a way that felt more like a restraint than an embrace. 

“I love Elara. She is the best wife a man could ask for. I’m just unhappy that she would insult her best friend this way, especially when Miranda only wanted to give her a hug…”

I saw Grandpa Max glance at me, looking for an explanation, but I couldn't bring myself to lie to the old man. Not today. Instead, I simply pushed the gift toward him again, my fingers trembling slightly.

“Here, Gramps. Open it.”

All the while, I fought the bile rising in my throat. I wanted to shrug off Shawn’s filthy arm, especially when he leaned in, a sleazy smile on his lips as he whispered into my ear.

“You look so good tonight, wife. I can’t wait to strip you inch by inch when we get home…”

He nipped at my ear, a gesture that used to make me shiver with love, but now only made me feel cold.

The display seemed to placate Grandpa Max for the moment. The old man smiled broadly, his tension easing as he began to open the gift I’d brought. But that smile wavered into confusion the moment he lifted the golden pocket watch from its lining.

“Thief!” Linda shouted, her eyes flashing with a sudden, triumphant contempt.

Shawn’s hand instantly fell from my waist as if I had turned to lead. He didn't even wait for me to speak before he stepped away, distancing himself from the "scandal."

“You stole Miranda’s idea, didn’t you? Too bad for you… she already gave Father the exact same gift!”

I frowned, my heart sinking as I looked at the table of gifts. What?

I looked at Miranda. She was tearing up again, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. 

Does the well in her ever run dry? I wondered, disgusted by the theatricality of it.

“I’m sorry, Elara… I shouldn’t have…” Miranda whimpered.

“Don’t apologize to her, my dear,” Linda snapped sharply.

I looked at Miranda, my eyes narrowing into slits. “You shouldn’t have what?” I needed to hear the lie she had concocted.

Miranda looked as though I had sucker-punched her. She shook her head frantically and dissolved into fresh, loud sobs. I wanted to throw up my hands at the sheer performance of it all.

“One more word, Elara, and I will cut that sharp tongue right out of your mouth! How dare you bring a fake gift to Grandpa? There is only one of these in the entire state!” Claire, Shawn’s elder sister, snapped, stepping forward like a guard dog.

I ignored her completely and turned to Grandpa Max, my voice steady. “Is your friend here? The one who owns the jewelry company?”

Grandpa Max raised a brow, obviously curious. After all, in all the years he knew me, I never fought back, never defended myself.

He beckoned to a staff member, but before anyone could move, Arthur—the owner of Becketts Jewelry—stepped out of the watching crowd.

Without a word, he took the pocket watch from Grandpa Max’s hand, weighing it in his palm for a long, silent moment. He pulled a jeweler’s loupe from his pocket and inspected the gears. Then, he looked up and smiled.

“This one is the real one. 100% authentic. It’s the masterpiece I personally engraved.” He then glanced at Miranda’s gift on the table. “That one... is a high-quality counterfeit.”

Shocked murmurs rippled through the guests like a tidal wave. Even Shawn stared at Miranda, his mouth slightly agape, the shock of her failure written all over his face.

“I… maybe she exchanged it?” Miranda stammered, her voice thin, desperate, and cracking.

I scoffed, stepping closer to her. “Give up the charade, Miranda. You’ve been found out.”

She shook her head, looking to Shawn for help, but Grandpa Max had seen enough. The old man’s face was like stone.

“Get her out of here!”

The guards moved to drag her away, but I felt a sudden, burning urge to speak to her myself, to see the mask slip completely. I raised a hand, stopping them. 

I tapped her lightly on the shoulder and walked out of the canopy toward the back of the estate, knowing her pride and her desperation would force her to follow me.

We ended up by the edge of the massive swimming pool, the water dark and still under the moon, reflecting the cold light of the stars.

But before I could get a single word of my victory out, the woman flung herself into the pool.

I stood there, paralyzed by the sheer shock of it—the stillness of the night only breaking when she started screaming for help, thrashing in the water as if she were being pulled down by a monster.

Immediately, Shawn appeared. He ran toward the water like he had been standing in the shadows, waiting for his cue. 

I wondered, with a sick, sinking feeling in my stomach, if she had planned this entire thing, if maybe she had gestured that he should follow her…

He dove in without hesitation. He pulled her out just as quick, and when she finally gasped for breath after he performed a panicked first aid, he lunged toward me. 

He gripped my arm so hard I knew it would leave a permanent bruise.

“What is wrong with you?!” he screamed in my face, his eyes wild with a terrifying, unhinged rage. “Do you want to kill her? You know she can’t swim!”

The lie was so absurd I actually laughed. 

Because I knew for a fact that Miranda could swim.

“You are really such a pawn…” I laughed some more, shaking my head at him as the moonlight caught the tears I refused to let fall. “You are a pathetic, blind pawn, Shawn.”

“You really expect me to believe you didn't push her?” Shawn’s mouth worked in silent anger, his face contorting into something monstrous.

Before I could even think to defend myself, he shoved me into the pool.

He shoved me with all his strength toward the deep end. Knowing I couldn't swim. Knowing about the trauma of the water that lived in my very bones.

I hit the water and sank like a stone. Then I came up for air once, screaming for help, my lungs burning... but no one seemed to hear. 

Instead, I watched through blurred, stinging eyes as he lifted Miranda into his arms and walked away toward the lights of the party, never once looking back.

He was going to leave me here to die.