Chapter 4

When Yara came back, the police were questioning the landlord.

The moment the landlord saw Yara, he rushed over and grabbed her.

He spat, "That's her. She told me her name was Sylvia and said she was the tenant here. She claimed she locked her keys in the room, so I gave her the spare. It's not my fault."

Yara's face changed in a flash. She shoved the landlord away and shot me an innocent look.

She said, "I never said my name was Sylvia. He's lying. I just told him I was the tenant here."

Then she came over and grabbed my hand, clearly trying to play the victim card.

She said, "Sylvia, the power went out right after you left. I was stuck. Then, on the slope yesterda, I had to let go of my own suitcase just to keep yours safe. You're not mad, are you?"

Look at her. She was pulling the whole guilt-trip, sisterhood act. If I didn't know what kind of person she really was, I might've actually fallen for it.

"Alright, but don't let it happen again," I said.

"I knew you'd forgive me, Sylvia," Yara said, clinging to my arm with a sweet smile.

The maid's room had paper-thin walls.

That night, I could hear Yara on the phone, begging her mom for money.

Yara said, "Mom, hurry up and transfer me the cash, or I won't be able to keep up appearances at school."

Her mom replied, "Don't stress, I'll ask your dad for it. You'll have the money before morning."

Before hanging up, she reminded Yara, "And remember, keep it clean. Don't do anything shady."

"Got it," Yara replied, hanging up in a hurry.

I could hear the woman's voice on the other end of the line, crystal clear.

It was my dad's secretary, Nina Scott.

I never imagined he'd been keeping his mistress by his side all these years.

Back in my previous life, by the time my soul drifted back home, my mom was already gone. As I was fading away, all I managed to see was the silhouette of that person from behind.

But now, I was certain. I finally knew exactly who she was.

The window was wide open, letting the moonlight pour in and illuminate a hidden corner of the room that no one ever noticed.

Late at night, I shot off a text to someone back in Clusia.

Yara showed up the next day still dressed in my clothes.

Looks like the cash still hadn't come through.

But even if she scraped the cash together, it wouldn't change a thing. Plastic surgery couldn't upgrade a rat into a swan.

I'd already achieved exactly what I wanted.

The next day, as soon as I walked into school, people were already greeting me.

Some even told me I was really forgiving.

Anna's gossip network never let me down.

Just yesterday, Yara was still playing the rich girl act, but now, with everyone openly gossiping about her, she couldn't keep it together anymore.

Since she couldn't shut them up, she came straight to me for help.

She hauled me into the bathroom and asked anxiously, "Sylvia, what's going on? Why is everyone talking about me?"

I played dumb and replied, "What? I didn't hear anything."

Yara was getting all worked up. She said, "They're all saying I stole your clothes, and that I'm just a poor kid faking the rich girl life."

I pretended to comfort her. I said, "Oh, really? Don't worry about it, it'll blow over in a few days."

Seeing that I didn't react, Yara got even more desperate. She asked, "Sylvia, can you please help me out? Just tell everyone we're friends and you lent me the clothes."

I snickered inwardly. So now she was going for the backup plan?

Honestly, I thought she'd ask me to say the clothes were hers.

I put on my most sincere face and said, "But if I step in and explain, won't that just make things look even more suspicious?

"The test is coming up soon, and you're supposed to be the smart one, right? Why not let everyone see how talented you are instead?"

Yara had been frantic a second ago, but the mention of the test shut her up.

It was the same test that wrecked me in my previous life.

Yara suddenly clung to my arm and asked, "Sylvia, can you let me see your design for the test?"

"Why?" I asked, watching her at perfect ease.

She'd blurted it out so baldly she clearly hadn't bothered to invent an excuse.

Yara's eyes darted, then she said, "Relax, Sylvia, I promise I won't copy you. I just want a peek at your design, you know, to get some inspiration.

"Please, Sylvia, I'm begging you. Help me. I can't stand everyone gossiping about me anymore."

I replied, "Fine, but just as we agreed: only one look at my design draft, got it?"

Yara nodded eagerly, sounding totally relieved.

After Yara left the bathroom, I glanced back at the corner where she'd shoved me against the mop sink and tried to force me to confess I'd stolen her design.

Yara was not even a design major. She didn't know the first thing about it.

All that stuff about 'getting inspiration' from my draft? Total BS.