Chapter 2

Those were the tears I shed, mourning my lost love and the five years of youth that had been wasted and crushed underfoot.

I rushed into his arms, pressing my face deep against his chest. In that close embrace, I hid the blazing revenge in my eyes, a fire fierce enough to burn him to nothing.

"I love you so much, Ronald," I whispered.

"I love you too, Allison," Ronald murmured softly in my ear. His gentle voice chilled me more than any curse ever could.

Ronald looked visibly relieved that I'd accepted the bracelet without hesitation.

He was in a great mood all night, even did the dishes himself.

I kept up the act, playing the part of the blissfully in-love woman. I peeled fruit for him, ironed his shirt for tomorrow, and filled our conversation with sweet dreams of the future.

"How about we get married after you graduate?" I asked, straightening his collar and making sure he noticed the shimmering green bracelet on my wrist.

Ronald hesitated for a moment before returning to his usual self. He smiled and playfully tapped my nose. "Sure, whatever you say."

Not a single crack in his act.

At ten that night, Ronald claimed he had to head to the lab to talk thesis details with his advisor.

But I knew the truth. He was really off to update someone important on his plans.

The moment the door clicked shut, my smile froze. I rushed into my room and locked the door behind me.

Step one: gather evidence. Using my backup phone, I recorded and snapped photos of the post on my computer screen from every possible angle.

The poster's ID was "Rona Land." Ronald, whose alias was "Rona Land."

His smug arrogance was practically handing me the evidence on a silver platter.

Next, I looked at the top-voted reply, posted by someone with the ID "maverick."

That name is just trying way too hard to sound profound, but honestly, it reeks of arrogance.

I took a screenshot of the ID and the reply, zoomed in, and made sure every word was crystal clear.

I didn't know who you are, but you had better pray I never find out.

I split all the evidence into three copies and uploaded them to separate encrypted cloud drives, just to cover all my bases. Then I set up a scheduled email to my most trusted lawyer. If I didn't touch anything for three months, that email would go out automatically.

Once I was done, I grabbed a fresh pair of medical latex gloves from the medicine cabinet.

Holding my breath, I gingerly unfastened the "murder weapon" from my wrist.

In the darkness, it was like a ghostly eye, silently watching me.

I dug out a thick lead box I'd bought back when I was into succulents. Supposedly it blocked radiation. Never thought it'd actually come in handy today.

I tossed the bracelet inside, sealed the box shut with industrial tape, and tucked it away in the very back of my closet.

Finally, I rummaged through a pile of cheap jewelry and found a bracelet I'd bought years ago that looked kind of similar. I tweaked it a bit and slipped it onto my wrist.

If the lighting wasn't too good, it could totally pass for the real thing. Once everything was taken care of, I lay back down on the bed.

When Ronald came back, trailing that faint scent of cologne, what he saw was his "perfect girlfriend" already fast asleep, still wearing his oh-so-affectionate gift on her wrist.

Ronald leaned down and pressed a cold kiss on my forehead.

With my eyes closed, I let a silent, mocking smile curl on my lips in the darkness. 'Ronald, go ahead and bask in your glory while it lasts.'

The next day, I requested a day of annual leave from my company.

I told Ronald I'd been working overtime so much lately that my body just couldn't take it anymore, and I needed a day to recover.

Ronald didn't suspect a thing. Instead, he was all "thoughtful," telling me, "You really should rest. Don't push yourself too hard. I'd feel terrible if you got sick."

Every word he said was like honey-coated poison, sickly sweet on the surface, but sharp and deadly deep down.

I hauled that heavy lead box with me, hopping on and off three different subway lines, until I finally ended up at the National Nuclear and Radiation Safety Inspection Center way across town.

This wasn't just any place. Every report they issued was legally binding.

Waldo Padilla, the engineer with the thick glasses, was the one who greeted me.

I made up a believable excuse. "Hey there, Mr. Padilla. This is something my elderly relative left behind. I just noticed it kind of glows in the dark at night, and with kids around, I'm a little worried. Could you check if it's radioactive?"

Waldo nodded, slipped on his professional-grade gloves, and carefully used long-handled tweezers to lift the bracelet out.

He took one look at it and his brows instantly furrowed in worry.