Chapter 2

Liam' s birthday was a grand affair at their Hamptons estate, a place where I was once a child who played in the gardens, not a ghost who served drinks. I shouldn't have come, but I felt a desperate need for one last goodbye.

I stood in the shadows of the veranda, watching him hold court. He was laughing with his old fraternity brothers, their voices carrying on the sea breeze.

"Seriously, Liam, I can't believe it's been ten years," one of them slurred, raising his glass. "The 'Ava Project.' I bet you twenty grand she'd still be trailing after you a decade later."

Liam chuckled, a low, cruel sound. "You owe me, man. The charity case is persistent, I'll give her that."

Another man clapped him on the back. "Well, here's to the end of the project! To Liam and Chloe! The future Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt!"

They all cheered.

The world tilted on its axis. A bet. A ten-year-long joke. My entire life, my devotion, had been a game for them.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an old email I' d saved from Mateo, an indie director who' d seen my work at a workshop years ago. Your voice is unique, Ava. If you ever want to write real stories, my door is always open. I' d dismissed it then, still clinging to the fantasy of Liam. Now, it felt like a message from another life.

I pushed the thought away. It was too late.

I walked out of the shadows and approached Liam. His smile faltered when he saw me.

"Happy birthday, Liam," I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

I held out a small, simple box. Inside was my mother's only heirloom, a plain gold locket. It was the most valuable thing I owned.

He looked at the locket, then at me, his eyes filled with contempt.

"What is this melodrama, Ava? You think this cheap trinket means something?"

He snatched the box from my hand, turned, and walked over to Chloe.

"A gift for you, my love," he said loudly, for everyone to hear.

He opened the box and fastened the locket around Chloe' s neck. She smiled, a triumphant, venomous smirk, her fingers tracing the gold that had once rested on my mother's skin. She looked directly at me, her eyes gleaming with victory.

The laughter of the crowd felt like stones being thrown at me. I turned and walked away, leaving my childhood, my love, and my last hope behind on that perfectly manicured lawn.