Chapter 2

Ryan lifts the lid off the box.

Inside, nestled on a bed of cheap velvet, is an old, cracked phone. My phone. The one I had on the island.

The screen is dark, but as Ryan picks it up, it flickers to life. A notification is visible on the lock screen.

One unread video message.

A wave of ugly speculation washes over the guests.

"A phone? What' s on it?"

"You know what' s on it," a man sneers. "Probably a video of her with one of her many lovers. She' s trying to make Ryan jealous."

"How pathetic," a woman adds. "She can' t accept that Ryan chose Olivia, a true heiress, over a cheap replacement like her."

Olivia lets out a small, theatrical gasp. She puts a hand to her chest, her eyes wide with fake hurt.

"Ryan, please, don' t look," she pleads. "She' s just trying to hurt you. To ruin our memories."

My mother, Mrs. Miller, rushes to the stage. Her face is a storm of fury.

"How dare she! That ungrateful wretch! After everything we did for her, she tries to sabotage her sister' s wedding!"

She reaches for the phone in Ryan' s hand.

"Give me that! I' ll smash it to pieces! The Miller family has no daughter named Ava!"

Her fingers are just inches from the phone when Ryan moves his hand away. He shields the phone with his body, his back to her.

"Stay away," he says, his voice dangerously low.

The command is so cold and absolute that my mother freezes, her hand still outstretched. My father, who had started to move forward, also stops in his tracks. They look at Ryan, a flicker of fear in their eyes. They' ve always been intimidated by Ryan' s power, his family' s influence. It' s why they wanted him as a son-in-law so badly.

Olivia tries a different approach, her voice soft and wounded.

"Ryan, darling, think of us. Think of our guests. Let' s not give her the satisfaction of making a scene. Whatever is on that phone, it' s in the past. We have our future to think about."

She tries to link her arm through his, to pull him away. But he stands rigid, unmoving.

He looks down at the phone, his thumb hovering over the screen.

"I' m going to play it," he announces to the silent room. "I' m going to play it on the main screen for everyone to see."

A gasp ripples through the crowd. Olivia' s face turns pale.

"No! Ryan, you can' t!"

The technicians by the large projector screen look confused, waiting for instructions.

"Do it," Ryan orders, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Connect this phone to the main screen. Now."

The technicians scramble to obey. Olivia and my parents watch in horror as the phone is connected. They can' t stop him. In this room, Ryan' s word is law.

I float closer, my ghostly form trembling. This is it. This is my only chance.

The phone' s lock screen appears on the giant screen behind the stage, magnified for everyone to see. The unread video message is there, a silent promise of the truth.

Ryan presses play.

The first video begins.

It' s not what the guests expected. It' s not some sordid tape. The screen shows the living room of the Miller mansion. I am standing in the middle of the room, looking small and scared.

The camera, which I had hidden on a bookshelf, captures the moment my life was torn apart.

My mother, Mrs. Miller, storms into the frame. Her face is twisted with rage.

"Did you really think you could take Olivia' s place forever?" she screams.

She slaps me. Hard. The sound echoes in the silent ballroom.

On the screen, I stumble back, my hand flying to my cheek. The red mark is already blooming on my skin.

In the ballroom, a collective gasp is heard. Mrs. Miller, standing on the stage, looks like she' s seen a ghost. My ghost.