Chapter 3
I don’t remember how I drove home.
I only remember flooring the gas on the highway, reaching a hundred and twelve miles per hour, while a small delivery truck honked at me the entire way.
I got home at three in the morning.
One by one, I took out the clothes I was supposed to wear to the engagement party.
The champagne-colored gown, the pearl earrings, the Manolo Blahnik heels.
I shoved everything into a black trash bag.
Then I opened my laptop.
I went through Chloe’s posts on Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok one by one, going all the way back.
She had supposedly been diagnosed two years ago.
Her earliest post asking for medical help had been tagged at a small private hospital across town.
I called an old college classmate who worked in the hematology department there.
The phone rang twice before she picked up, groggy with sleep.
“Claire? It’s three in the morning. Have you lost your mind?”
“Lily, I need you to look someone up.”
“Chloe Reed, twenty-four years old, leukemia. She was supposedly diagnosed at your hospital two years ago.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Give me ten minutes.”
I stared at my phone screen.
Nine minutes and forty seconds later, Lily called back.
“Claire, I have to tell you something about this friend of yours.”
“Yeah?”
“We can’t find her in our system.”
“I went through every leukemia patient diagnosed in the last two years. There’s no Chloe Reed.”
“She either never came here at all, or…”
“Or she’s not sick,” I said.
“Exactly.”
I hung up.
Just as dawn began to break, Ethan called.
His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t slept all night.
“Claire, I’ll be there at nine.”
“Okay.”
“About last night—”
“Ethan.” I cut him off. “I’ve thought it through.”
There was an obvious pause on the other end.
“Thought what through?”
“You were right. It’s only a ring.” I said, “She’s so pitiful. Why would I argue with her?”
“The engagement party will go on as planned.”
Ethan was silent for three seconds.
“Claire, you’re being so understanding.”
I smiled but didn’t respond.
After hanging up, I opened my contacts and scrolled to a number saved as “Uncle.”
My mother had died years ago. I didn’t have an uncle.
It was a number my father had left me before he died. He had said, “Claire, if you ever run into a problem you can’t solve, call this number. But you can only call once.”
My father had died ten years ago.
I had never dialed it.
I pressed the call button.
Someone answered on the second ring.
“Miss Bennett.” The voice belonged to a middle-aged man. He spoke slowly and calmly. “Your father finally managed to make you remember me.”
“Mr. Carter,” I said. “I need your help.”
“Tell me.”
“Chloe Reed, twenty-four years old. She’s been pretending to have leukemia for two years. Her target is Ethan Hayes.”
“I want everything on her from the last three years. I want it by ten tonight.”
The man on the other end chuckled.
“That’s nothing, Miss Bennett.”
“Anything else?”
I bit my lower lip.
“I want a list of every asset Ethan owns that has been transferred directly to Chloe and isn’t connected to a Hayes subsidiary.”
“Understood.”
“One more thing.” I paused. “The shares my father left me—who currently holds them?”
There was a brief silence.
“I’ve been holding them in trust for you. Do you want them back?”
“I do.”
“Before nine this morning.”
“Consider it done.”
I hung up and walked to the window.
The sky had fully brightened. White blossoms had fallen all over the trees below.
I picked one up and squeezed it in my palm.
At exactly nine, the doorbell rang.
Ethan stood outside in a perfectly tailored suit, holding a bouquet of white roses.
When he saw me, he froze.
“You…you’re wearing that?”
I wore an ordinary black dress. My hair was loosely tied back, and I wasn’t wearing makeup.
“Yeah.”
“Claire, this is our engagement party.” He smiled. “Go change.”
“Ethan.” I looked up at him. “Don’t you think what either of us wears today is the least important thing?”
He didn’t understand.
He only assumed I was still angry. With a sigh, he pushed the flowers into my arms.
“Let’s go.”