You Chose Her, Remember?

That night, I sat alone in the guest room, wide awake, listening to them hook up across the hall. Every creak, every laugh—burned.I started scrolling through old photos and landed on one from three years ago, right after graduating Parsons. That night at the charity auction was when I met Daniel.He bought every piece I showed and said, "There's something special in your work. It reminds me of someone I once knew."Yeah. That someone? Sophie.At 3 a.m., a message popped up from Dad's doctor:[Ms. Egerton, there's something you need to know. Your father actually had a strong chance of surviving the surgery. But the day before, someone canceled the specialist consultation and delayed the operation. He claimed to be your husband.]My phone slipped out of my hand. Just—thudded onto the floor.Dad didn't just die.It was planned.Daniel knew Sophie was coming back. He stalled the surgery on purpose—so I'd be too broken to fight her moving in. To keep his so-called soulmate happy,

I popped open the washer and stared at the heap of perfume-soaked clothes. My stomach turned.Every piece reeked of the truth—I was just a fill-in. A punching bag they could dress up or tear down whenever they felt like it.Right as I reached for the pile, Sophie's voice cut in."Wait. That Valentino's hand-wash only. Don't ruin it."I froze."What? Got a problem?" She strutted over and yanked the dress out. "This one's fifty grand. Don't screw it up."I grabbed it and moved to the sink. Cold water rushed over my fingers while I scrubbed like a machine."Use cold water," she added, posted up in the doorway like a hall monitor. "Hot'll wreck the color."I said nothing. Head down. Scrubbing.She kept going."Honestly? Pathetic. Top of your class at Parsons, and now you're my maid. But hey, that's what happens when you've got MY face."My head snapped up.Her face?I stared into the mirror. Two versions of the same girl stared back—no. She looked like me."Daniel couldn't sl

"You did that on purpose!" Sophie stormed over and slapped me hard across the face.I didn't move. Just took it."Enough," Daniel said, tugging her back. "It's your birthday. Don't get riled up."Then he looked at me, all ice. "Clean it up. Meet me in the study after."I knelt down, picking up shattered glass. The shards bit into my fingers—blood mixing with champagne, sharp and jarring.Around me, guests whispered. Some looked sorry. Most didn't. The ex-Mrs. Wilson, on her knees, cleaning up the mess. Real classy entertainment.When I finished, I headed to the study.Daniel sat behind the desk. A small bottle sat in front of him."Take it," he said, pushing it toward me.I picked it up. Birth control pills."Why?""You're not fit to have my kid." Flat. No emotion. "One a day. Don't forget."I stared at it, a bitter laugh bubbling up.Three years of marriage. He barely touched me. And now this?"I said take it." Sharper this time.I opened the cap, poured one out. The ti

The room exploded."You're lying!" Sophie screeched.I pulled the marriage certificate from my clutch and held it up. "Take a good look. That's our marriage license. And last I checked, in New York, if you're not divorced, you don't get to throw another engagement party.""You're insane!" Daniel lunged for it.I slipped just out of reach, still holding the mic. "Three years ago, Daniel promised me a dream wedding. I finally saw it today—just wasn't the one walking down the aisle.""Enough!" Daniel ripped the mic from my hand. "Party's over. Everyone out."The crowd buzzed as people started leaving, eyes wide like they'd just watched a season finale."You're done, Emily," Sophie hissed, face twisted with rage."Oh?" I smiled. "Right, almost forgot. The hospital called. Turns out my dad's death? Kinda sketchy. FBI's on it now."Daniel went pale."And one more thing," I said, locking eyes with him. "Those pills you gave me? I saved a few. Had them tested. If anything happens to

"Book a flight. Now. I'm going to Paris.""But sir, the board—""Postpone it!"Daniel was already halfway to the airport. He needed to find Emily. Not just for the evidence. He wasn't fooling himself anymore—it was never just about that.Right before boarding, Cassandra called."Daniel, how could you? Emily's a good girl. How could you treat her like that?""Mom, you don't get it—""Oh, I get it. She gave up her dad's shares for you. And you killed him—for some plastic Barbie!""I didn't kill anyone!""The hospital's lawyers think otherwise. They're filing murder charges." Her voice cracked. "You've disappointed me."Click.Daniel stared at the screen, panic flooding in for real.The plane took off. He leaned back, haunted by Emily's face.Not as Sophie's echo. Just... Emily.The way she bit her pen while painting. Hummed while cooking. Curled up in bed. Somehow, those were the things that stuck. Not because she reminded him of someone else—but because she didn't."Sir,