Chapter 2

It was late at night when someone shook me awake.

I opened my eyes to find Andrew standing by my bed, his coat draped over his arm, looking pissed.

"Nora, do you have to be like this?" Andrew asked, his voice tight with anger. "You stormed off in front of everyone, and now you're hiding out in this dump. You say you don't care, but everything you do is just making Charlotte look bad."

I rubbed my eyes.

In my previous life, these late-night confrontations happened all the time, but back then, it was always me hysterically questioning Andrew while he reeked of alcohol.

But now, the tables had turned.

I tried to keep my grogginess in check.

"Andrew, I wasn't trying to embarrass anyone," I said. "There were a lot of guests today, and my dress got dirty. Staying there would've made things awkward for everyone. Plus, I was tired, so I came back to rest. Is that so hard to understand?"

Andrew stared at me, like he was trying to figure out if I was just putting on an act again.

After a moment, his tone softened a bit. "Charlotte's been spoiled since she was a kid, so she doesn't really know when to stop, but she's not a bad person. There were a lot of people today, and she probably just got nervous and fumbled."

Her hand slipped?

I remembered perfectly how that glass of pomegranate juice flew across half the table and splashed right onto the magnolia design on the front of my dress.

I also remembered Charlotte leaning in to wipe my dress, whispering under her breath so only I could hear, "Nora, this dress must've cost a fortune, huh? What a shame."

But I wasn't about to mention any of that.

I nodded. "I know. You've explained it to me a million times, and I get it. That's why I said it's fine."

He was used to me picking fights, so he looked genuinely surprised that I wasn't going to make a scene. He just stood there on the old wooden floor, silent for a long moment.

Grandma Grace came out from the back room, draping a coat over her shoulders, still holding a rolling pin in her hand.

"Andrew, what are you doing here in the middle of the night, are you here to interrogate someone?" Grandma Grace asked.

"Grandma Grace, I just came to check on Nora," Andrew replied politely.

Grandma Grace glanced at the stain on my dress, and her face immediately darkened.

"Check on her? You mean check on how your crowd bullied her and she still has to force a smile?" Grandma Grace shot back.

Andrew frowned. "Grandma Grace, there's a misunderstanding here."

"Misunderstanding, my ass," Grandma Grace snapped, banging the rolling pin against the doorframe. "It's Nora's birthday, and you bring another girl to steal the spotlight. She gets drenched, and all you do is tell her to go change."

Andrew looked embarrassed. "I'm not trying to make her admit she's wrong."

I got up and stepped in front of Grandma Grace. "Grandma Grace, go back to bed. I'll talk to him."

Grandma Grace glared at me. "Don't go soft on him. Men can talk black into white if you let them."

Andrew looked at me. "Is that how you see it too?"

"I just want to sleep," I said.

My answer left him speechless. He loosened his tie with a sharp tug.

"There's a family dinner next week, and Grandpa will be there. Don't wear the dress you had on tonight, I'll have someone bring you a new outfit," he said.

"Don't bother," I replied.

"Nora," he said.

"Honestly, I don't need that many new outfits," I said, opening the door. "You should get some rest too."

He stood there, unmoving.

Grandma Grace called out from behind, "Watch your step, Mr. Fernandez. The threshold's low, if you trip, don't say our place tripped you up."

Andrew's expression soured even more as he turned and walked out.

His headlights swept across the courtyard wall, then vanished into the rain.

Just as I was about to close the door, my phone screen lit up.

A message popped up from an unknown number.

Charlotte wrote: [Hey Nora, are you still up? I'm sorry about today, I didn't mean to spill it. Andy already gave me an earful, so please don't fight with him because of me. He's not in great shape, and getting upset is the worst thing.

Another message popped up right after.

Charlotte followed up: [Oh, was that dress made by Grandma Grace for you? Someone just told me, and I feel awful about it. Why don't I buy you an even more expensive one to make up for it?]

Grandma Grace peeked at my phone, then rolled up her sleeves, looking ready to throw down.

"Where is that girl? Tomorrow, I'll show her what a real 'slip of the hand' feels like," Grandma Grace huffed.

I held her back. "No need."

Grandma Grace got fired up. "She's bullying you right in front of me."

I set my phone down on the table. "She wants me to snap back, to make a scene. If I do, I'll be the one everyone blames."

Grandma Grace sat down next to me, her rough hands gently touching the red-stained magnolia on my dress.

"I spent two months making this dress," she said.

"I know," I replied.

"Then why aren't you mad?" Grandma Grace asked.

I slipped off the dress and folded it up gently, like it was something precious.

"Yeah, I'm mad. But honestly, I'd rather see you live a long, happy life than waste my energy being angry," I said.

Grandma Grace looked like she had a comeback ready, but she swallowed it and just headed to the kitchen to warm up some pasta for me.

I sat under the dim yellow light, staring at the message on my phone.

In my last life, I lost because I was too impulsive.

This time, when Charlotte hands me the knife, I'm not taking it.