Chapter 2
My chest felt tight, and I couldn't help but keep scrolling through the screenshot.
Someone in the group made a joke.
[Wow, your stepmom is throwing money around like crazy. Vivian, you sure are lucky.]
Vivian's reply was a stab of ice straight to my heart.
[Please, she's just trying to buy me off so I'll say a few nice things about her to my dad and make sure she stays Mrs. Lane.]
[She's as cunning as a fox. If I feel like destroying her gifts, I'll do it.]
[When I'm old enough to have a voice at my dad's company, the very first thing I'll do is get rid of her.]
I stood outside her closed door, the Chanel shopping bag in my hand feeling like it weighed a ton.
She figured I had no idea about her little stunt with the scissors.
On her birthday, I bought her a high-end tracksuit.
She'd spotted it in a magazine and said she had to have it, so I went to a bunch of boutiques until I finally found her size.
Her eyes lit up when she saw the bag, and she practically snatched it out of my hands, pulling out the clothes.
She exclaimed, "Wow, it's the newest release from this brand. Claire, how did you know I liked it?"
She rushed to change into it and spun around in front of the mirror, checking herself out from every angle. Then she rushed to me and hugged my arm, bubbling with excitement.
"It's gorgeous. Thank you, Claire. You're honestly the best," she gushed.
She even acted all sweet right in front of Richard.
"Dad, check it out. Claire really knows her stuff. I seriously love it," she said.
At that moment, she seemed like an innocent, grateful girl who'd just received her dream gift.
Anyone who saw it would've thought she adored me as her stepmom, that we were closer than family.
Even I nearly fell for her perfect act.
But the next morning, I found the very outfit she'd been so excited about, chucked in the corner of the closet, two huge, ruler-straight slits cut right through the fabric.
The clean, perfect cuts told me it wasn't an accident—someone did it deliberately with scissors.
Back then, I kept making excuses for her, convincing myself she was just acting out like a rebellious teenager.
But now that I thought about it, there was no so-called rebellion.
It was pure malice.
If it hadn't been for the mom who couldn't take it anymore and posted the screenshot in our private parents' chat, I might never have found out the truth.
That evening, Richard came home from work, looking a little worn out.
He'd barely taken off his coat when Vivian fluttered out of her room like a happy little bird and slipped her arm through his.
"Dad, you're home," she called out, her voice clear and bright.
Then she turned to me, her eyes sparkling with hope and that perfect, sweet, playful look.
She said, "Claire, one of my classmates got the limited-edition star projector today. It's absolutely gorgeous. Word is, it'll be sold out by next week. You're the best. Can you please help me get one?"
She acted so natural, like she wasn't the one who'd just dragged me through the mud in the group chat.
Looking at her sweet, innocent face, my stomach twisted in knots, but I barely managed to keep it together on the outside and forced myself not to react right away.
Richard was clearly charmed by her act, and the tired look on his face eased up a bit.
Out of habit, he went to grab his phone, seemed to be checking for work messages, but ended up grabbing mine from the coffee table instead.
Because we had the same phone model and passcode, he didn't notice anything unusual.
He unlocked it without thinking and casually said to Vivian, "Stop asking for so much. Let Claire take a break."
Just then, another notification from the parents' group chat popped up on the screen, triggered by the latest message.
In the preview window, that glaring headline was impossible to miss: [Stepmom: Clueless ATM].
Richard froze.
He tapped on the notification, confusion flickering across his face as he slid his finger over the screen.
I watched his expression shift: from relaxed to puzzled, then to shocked, before a blaze of disbelief and fury lit up his eyes.
He gripped the phone so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and his face darkened instantly.
He shoved the phone right in Vivian's face.
He snapped, "How could you do this? Claire does everything for you, and whatever you want, she gets it for you. How could you trash her like that behind her back?"
Richard yanked Vivian into the other room, fury etched on his face.
I stayed behind in the living room, choosing not to go after them.
I honestly thought that if I treated her with genuine kindness, she'd care about me in return. I never imagined it would all blow up like that.