Chapter 1

At my sister Emily Carter's twentieth birthday party, my fiancé Andrew Sinclair fastened the Heart of the Ocean around her neck. It was the necklace that was supposed to be mine.

"Happy birthday, Emily." His voice was sweet enough to curdle milk.

The entire room erupted in envious gasps.

Emily lowered her head shyly, the massive sapphire glittering against her elegant neck. It burned my eyes.

My mother grabbed my wrist, hard, and hissed through gritted teeth. "Sophia Bennett, wipe that look off your face! Today is your sister's big day. Don't you dare ruin it."

My brother Michael Carter shot me a cold glare. "It's a necklace. Stop being so jealous. Emily has been sickly since we were kids. Letting her have this one thing wouldn't kill you."

Maybe they were right.

Letting her have things? Yeah, it might actually kill me.

That was when a cold, mechanical voice flashed through my mind.

'Subject detected: zero will to live. Emotional bonds are approaching the termination threshold. Are you willing to sacrifice all worldly ties for a fresh start in another dimension?'

I didn't hesitate.

"I'm in."

*****

"Sophia? Hello? Earth to Sophia?"

My mom, Linda Bennett's voice sliced through my thoughts like shards of glass.

I blinked, dragging myself back to the party. The room glittered with people in their designer gowns and tailored suits, champagne glasses clinking under crystal chandeliers.

Everyone wore these perfect smiles, flawless, polished, and utterly fake.

And then there was I. The outsider. The drop of dirty oil floating in a glass of pure water.

Tonight was Emily's twentieth birthday, but it also marked three years since the Carters officially welcomed her into the fold. Three years since I, their actual daughter, became the family joke.

Everyone orbited around her like planets around the sun.

She floated through the crowd in some ridiculous couture princess dress, lapping up the attention like a cat with cream.

Meanwhile, I was stuffed into some cheap off-the-rack disaster my mother's assistant grabbed on her way out the door. The tag was still scratching the back of my neck.

How twisted was this? The impostor got the spotlight, and the real daughter got treated like the fraud.

When I didn't respond fast enough, my mother's frown deepened into something uglier.

She grabbed my arm and dragged me across the room toward Andrew and Emily, her face doing that creepy instant-switch into a society smile.

"Andrew, you really outdid yourself," she purred.

Andrew had his arm slung around Emily's shoulders, grinning as if he'd won the lottery. "Mrs. Carter, if it makes Emily happy, it's money well spent."

His eyes flicked over me like I was furniture. Less than furniture, like I was a stranger he'd never met.

The Heart of the Ocean. He'd spent three months chasing that necklace at auctions overseas, bragging the whole time about how it would be my engagement gift.

He said the sapphire was exactly the color of the starlight in my eyes.

Now that starlight was wrapped around Emily's throat.

Emily touched the necklace, then looked at me with those big, wet eyes. "Sophia, I'm so sorry. I didn't know Andrew picked this for you. Should I give it back?"

She reached for the clasp as if she meant it. Right. Oscar-worthy performance.

Before I could get a word out, Michael lunged forward, positioning himself between us like he was protecting her from a wild animal.

He glared at me like I'd threatened to burn the house down. "Sophia! What are you trying to pull now?

"Her heart can't take this kind of stress."

Her heart? What about mine? I didn't do anything. My throat went dry, words sticking like cotton.

I met his eyes, enunciating every syllable. "Michael. Did you see me do anything?"

Michael froze.

He'd never heard me talk back before. Quiet Sophia, obedient Sophia, the one who took everything they threw at her.

My mom's face turned livid, and she raised her hand to slap me.

"How dare you! Is that how you talk to your brother?"

Just then, a waiter walked by with a tray. I stuck out my foot enough to trip him up.

CRASH. Champagne, red wine, and glasses were everywhere. And Linda was standing there in what used to be a couple of thousand-dollar Chanel suit, now dripping from every possible angle.

The room went dead silent.

Linda shrieked, jabbing a finger at me, her whole body trembling with rage. "Sophia! You did that on purpose! You vicious little—"

I watched her stand there, soaking wet and humiliated, and felt something ugly curl up in my chest.

Vicious? Compared to you people, I was an amateur.