Chapter 2

I couldn't remember driving home. Somehow I found myself sitting on my bed, staring at the acceptance letter that should have been my triumph. The Harvard crimson logo blurred as I blinked back tears that refused to stop forming, no matter how many times I wiped them away.

My phone buzzed again. Three more texts from Ryan.

*Where are you?*

*Did you hear about Harvard yet?*

*Call me when you get this, babe*

*Babe*. The endearment that once made my heart flutter now made my stomach turn. How many times had he called Brittany the same thing? How many times had they laughed about fooling naive, desperate Madison?

I tossed my phone aside and pulled out our junior yearbook. There we were—Ryan's arm around my shoulder, his smile confident, mine trusting. Page after page of memories, all of them lies. The homecoming dance where he'd whispered he couldn't imagine life without me. The science fair where he'd cheered louder than anyone when I won. The countless study sessions where he'd claimed to need my help, all while secretly photographing me.

Wait.

I sat up straight, a cold realization washing over me. The notes. My chemistry notes that Ryan had been "borrowing" all semester. He'd claimed he needed them to study, but now I understood—they weren't for him. They were for Brittany.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand and took a deep breath. Grief would have to wait. I needed confirmation.

My laptop hummed to life, and I pulled up the study guide I'd been preparing for next week's acid-base equilibrium test. It was nearly complete, filled with my meticulously organized notes and color-coded diagrams. With steady hands, I found the section on titration curves and deliberately altered one critical value—changing a 7.4 to a 4.7.

It was subtle. Anyone who understood the material would catch it immediately. But someone who was blindly copying...

"Let's see how well you understand chemistry, Brittany," I whispered, saving the file.

The next morning, I printed the altered notes and placed them in my folder, right where Ryan would see them when he inevitably asked to "review" them before class.

"Hey, Madi!" His voice in the hallway made my skin crawl. I forced my face into a neutral expression as I turned.

There he was—the stranger wearing my boyfriend's face. His smile was the same, his eyes crinkled at the corners just like always, but now I could see the calculation behind them.

"Hey," I managed, hating how normal my voice sounded.

"You okay? You disappeared yesterday." He reached for my hand, and it took everything I had not to flinch away.

"Just a migraine," I lied. "I had to go home."

"That sucks." He frowned with practiced concern. "Did you finish the chem notes? Group presentations are today, and I wanted to review them before class."

There it was. Right on cue.

"They're in my folder." I handed him the entire thing, watching as he flipped through to find the pages.

"You're a lifesaver, Madi." He kissed my cheek, and I felt nothing but disgust. "I'd be lost without you."

*Lost without my brain*, I thought, taking back my folder after he'd snapped photos of the notes with his phone.

In chemistry, I sat quietly as each group presented their experiments. When Brittany's group took the floor, I watched with detached interest as they confidently set up their demonstration on acid-base indicators.

"The titration will reach equilibrium at pH 4.7," Brittany announced, reading directly from her notes—my notes—with a practiced smile.

The solution in their flask turned an unexpected color. Confusion flickered across her face.

"That's... not right," their teacher said, frowning. "The equilibrium point should be 7.4, not 4.7."

Brittany's face flushed red as their experiment failed spectacularly, the solution bubbling over onto their carefully prepared display.

Across the room, Ryan's eyes met mine, narrowed in suspicion. I held his gaze steadily, letting him see nothing but innocent confusion.

But inside, a cold certainty had solidified. This wasn't just about notes. This was about years of manipulation, of using me, of betrayal so deep it had reshaped my entire world.

And I was just getting started.