Chapter 3
ROSE'S POINT OF VIEW
I swirled the champagne in my crystal flute, watching the bubbles dance. Victory tasted sweet, just like I'd imagined all these years. The living room of my penthouse apartment overlooked the city where I'd spent twenty years pretending to be the perfect adopted daughter, the loving sister, the supportive friend.
What a joke.
"To freedom," I whispered to my reflection in the window. The woman staring back at me smiled, perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect lies. Just like always.
My phone buzzed again. Another missed call from Stefan. He'd been calling non- stop since Camille walked out, probably worried I'd change my mind now that everything was in the open. Poor, predictable Stefan. Still thinking he was in control of any of this.
I kicked off my Louboutins and sank into the leather couch, letting memories wash over me like warm wine.
The first time I saw Camille Lewis, I hated her.
I was thirteen, fresh out of foster care, desperate to please my new parents. They'd brought me to this massive house with its manicured lawn and marble floors, promising me a fresh start. A real family.
Then this skinny thing with braces and messy hair came bouncing down the stairs, all eager smiles and innocent eyes.
"Hi! I'm Camille. I've always wanted a sister!"
She hugged me right there in the foyer, not caring that my clothes were
secondhand or that I smelled like the group home's industrial detergent. Just pure, genuine joy at having a sister.
I wanted to vomit.
Because there she was, this awkward, imperfect girl who had everything I'd spent thirteen years dreaming about. Parents who actually wanted her. A home she belonged in. A future secured by the Lewis family name.
she didn't even appreciate it
watched her over dinner that first night, watched how she slouched in her chair and talked with her mouth full. How she didn't know
smiling at me. "Perhaps
it. The first crack in Camille's perfect world. The slight dimming of her smile,
It was beautiful.
me back to the present. Stefan's face lit up my screen,
"Darling, you're being needy."
been drinking? "She's gone. Really gone.
tone I'd used all those times I'd counseled Camille through her marital problems.
way
my sweetness. "Are you having
I love you.
stop calling me about your ex-wife. It's
who I'd spent four years grooming before pushing him toward Camille,
served his purpose. Just like everyone else in my
the center, of course. Always the center. Camille pushed
it had been easy. Almost too
here about how Camille was unstable. A few concerned conversations with Mom about how worried I was about my dear sister's emotional state. Casual
groundwork, positioning myself as the responsible daughter, the achievable dream, while slowly crushing Camille's confidence,
Mom about finding Camille's "secret" diary, filled with dark
college. Needed time to "find herself." Needed
could
this, this was what I'd really wanted all along. Not Stefan, he was just a useful pawn. Not the Lewis fortune, though that would come
watch perfect, precious Camille finally break. To see her realize that everything she thought she had family, love,
please come over. Your father and I need to talk about what
The tearful confusion, the reluctant confession about Stefan's pursuit, the
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