Chapter 3

Chris let out a long sigh and said, "Anna, don't take it to heart. Vivian was just mad and talking nonsense. I'm your brother—of course I'd take your side. How could you not trust me?

"If only you knew how classmates and teachers are treating me now. But for you, I have to just swallow it all."

But this time around, I wasn't fooled. Behind all that self-pity, I could hear the greed loud and clear beneath his self-pity.

I couldn't care less. I just lowered my head and ignored him, keeping my silence.

Chris quickly answered another call. Then he said, "Anna, let me take you out for dinner."

"No," I shot back without a second thought, stumbling to my feet and heading straight for my room.

But Chris stepped forward, clamping down on my arms. He said, "Anna, our parents are gone. You're all I've got now."

I turned to face him, fighting back tears and burning with anger as I stared him down.

In the end, Chris practically dragged me out the door, ignoring all my struggles.

I kept my head down, burying my face in my hair—every time someone looked my way, it made my skin crawl, like I was sitting on pins and needles.

"Just eat quickly. I need to get some rest," I muttered.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I noticed a flicker of annoyance on Chris's face.

Chris said, "Vivian got her friends together for karaoke and expects me to tag along."

He sounded so entitled, like whatever I said didn't matter in the slightest.

He continued, "Back on campus, I'd skip the two-dollar side salad to save a buck, and here I am blowing thirty bucks on this spread just for you." His every word reeked of hurt pride.

I just kept quiet, poking at my food without a word. In the end, the bill still came out of my pocket.

Trying to avoid any arguments and feeling the sting of every stare around me, I clenched my jaw and, reluctantly, let Chris drag me off to the karaoke bar.

Under the shimmering neon lights, the room was filled with men and women whose faces were flushed from alcohol, their eyes glazed with excitement and abandon.

Chris nudged me to the front and said, "Anna, everyone here is either my friend or Vivian's."

The music cut off, and all eyes on the couch bored into me, full of curiosity and scrutiny.

One said, "You're really wasting that killer figure with those clothes."

Another said, "The more innocent she dresses, the naughtier she actually is."

Someone else said, "Hey, don't bother hiding your face—we've seen it all before."

Guys and girls alike threw their digs, every word stabbing my ears like needles.

Chris jabbed me with his elbow and said, "Relax, Anna, they're just messing around. Don't let it get to you."

I clenched my fists so tight that my nails dug painfully into my palms. When I finally dared to look up, their faces were a mess of sneering glances, hungry eyes, cruel snickers, and open disgust—everyone sizing me up like I was some cheap sideshow.

Eventually, Vivian and I locked eyes. She lifted the corner of her mouth into a mocking smile, her gaze flickering with challenge, practically daring me to flinch.

The whole room felt thick with hostility, closing in on me, squeezing every bit of confidence out until I could barely breathe.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, forced to swallow every humiliation they threw my way, powerless to break free.

Suddenly, the guy sprawled in the middle of the couch cracked a slimy grin and said, "With a frame like that, bet she could charge double for the 'premium' dance floor."

A cigar in one hand and a whiskey glass in the other, he had a beautiful woman tucked in each arm—both dazzling, both smiling up at him with eager, dazzling charm.

"Chris, Miles just called for it. Get your sister moving—don't kill the vibe," Vivian shouted into the mic, laughing with pure mockery.

I straightened my back, pretending I wasn't fazed. I said, "I'm not dancing. I'm out of here."