Chapter 2

The bar restroom's lights flickered on and off with the rhythm of the music.

Sophia stood before the mirror, eyes locked on Margaret as she pushed through the door.

"God, you're standing there like a ghost, Sophia."

After recognizing the figure as Sophia, Margaret first breathed a sigh of relief, then looked slightly embarrassed.

She took two steps back and forced a smile. "What a coincidence, Sophia. I remember you never used to come to places like bars."

Within seconds, Margaret had regained her sense of superiority over Sophia. She lifted her chin and said in a condescending tone, "Looks like you've picked up some bad habits."

Sophia stared unblinkingly at Margaret's rosy, healthy complexion. In contrast, her own face was ghastly pale.

"Margaret, what's going on? Why—why are you still alive?"

The sudden truth hit Sophia like a freight train.

Margaret spoke slowly and deliberately. "What, you're not happy I'm alive?"

Happy?

Sophia's smile was uglier than tears.

Three years ago, if she'd learned her only sister was still alive, she would have been overjoyed.

But now? She'd endured three years without dignity, suffering humiliation after humiliation. She'd even been forced to drop out of school, losing her chance at graduate school.

How could she possibly be happy?

"Answer me. Why did you do this?" Sophia refused to fall into her trap and pressed her directly.

Margaret's eyes darted around as she stalled for time. "Do we have to talk about this in the bathroom? Why don't you wait for me? Let me use the restroom first, then we'll talk."

Sophia saw right through her. She grabbed Margaret's arm, refusing to let her leave.

"You're not going anywhere until you give me an explanation."

Seeing Sophia press her relentlessly, Margaret finally lost her patience. "You really want to know why? Fine. I'll tell you. Because messing with you was fun. Are you satisfied with that answer?"

Once malice found an opening, it couldn't be contained.

Margaret glared viciously at Sophia, as if looking at her mortal enemy.

"Every time I invited you out, you'd say you had to read or study. You put on that act of being so ambitious—who were you trying to impress? When people praised you for being mature and excellent, saying you were more like the older sister than me, you must have felt so smug, right? So I decided to help you out. Let you experience what it's like being an only child for three years. How about it? Pretty great, isn't it?"

Sophia never imagined her three-year nightmare stemmed from such an absurd, ridiculous reason.

Rage swept through her entire body, driving her hand up.

Margaret sneered contemptuously. "Want to hit me? Sophia, if you lay one finger on me today, Mom and Dad and Robert will make you pay. Don't believe me? Try it."

She even deliberately pushed her face forward.

Sophia bit down hard on her teeth. Images of Margaret's two-faced schemes and betrayals flashed through her mind. Her stomach churned.

The truth was, their sisterly relationship had never been good. Margaret's "death" had simply blurred all the conflicts, making Sophia willing to shoulder all the blame.

"Coward. I knew you wouldn't dare—"

Before Margaret could finish her taunt, Sophia's hand came down hard!

She put all her strength into that slap. Margaret fell to the floor, her cheek instantly swelling and turning red.

"You actually dared hit me! Sophia, are you tired of living?" Margaret came to her senses, nearly hysterical with rage.

Sophia's gaze held bone-chilling coldness. Her tone was calm but resolute. "Yes. I also want to drag you down with me. Do you believe me?"

The viciousness beneath that calm made Margaret panic instantly.

By the time Margaret recovered, Sophia had already vanished from the restroom.

She stamped her feet in fury, shouting threats in the direction Sophia had left. "Sophia! You just wait!"

Sophia wandered the bar's hallway like a lost soul, Margaret's words echoing repeatedly in her ears.

"Mom and Dad already know. They'll help me explain."

"If you lay one finger on me today, Mom and Dad and Robert will make you pay."

How could she not have known? Mom and Dad had always favored the lively, outgoing Margaret. They disliked Sophia's quiet, introverted nature.

She'd naively believed that if she was obedient and tried hard enough, one day her parents would give her a little love too.

It had all been wishful thinking.

No wonder Bianca had cursed her so furiously after learning about Robert's engagement, calling her useless for not holding onto Margaret's boyfriend.

Mom and Dad had been unconditionally spoiling Margaret all along.

Even though Margaret had orchestrated this fake death charade, they were willing accomplices.

And Sophia? She was just an insignificant stepping stone.

In a daze, Sophia pushed open the door to the private room. Echo was long gone, but those male servers were still there.

She looked them over and realized they were all exceptionally good-looking. Especially the man sitting in the center—his features were sharp and defined, his eyes deep-set, his bearing both bold and aristocratic. He was every bit as handsome as Robert, Emerald City's famous golden boy.

Sophia walked straight over and sat down. Her voice was cold. "Pour me a drink."

In the past, she'd followed all the rules, never even dated anyone. And what had it gotten her? Robert's contempt and torment.

Was it only by being like Margaret—hanging out in bars, flirting with different men like it was nothing—that someone could earn affection and favoritism?

Sophia knew she was spiraling into destructive thinking.

"You—" One of the men frowned, about to speak, but the most handsome man in the center stopped him with a glance.

The man looked at Sophia with interest and raised his hand to fill her glass.

Sophia picked up the glass, steeled herself, and downed it in one gulp. Then she broke into violent coughing.

The liquor was harsh and burning. It made her eyes water, nearly bringing her to tears.

But after catching her breath, she reached out again for another glass.

Maybe if she got drunk, she could temporarily forget this cruel reality.

Sophia drank glass after glass. The men kept flattering her, treating her like precious royalty.

The result of such indulgence? She blacked out completely. At least she temporarily forgot all her troubles.

When she woke again, it was noon the next day.

Sophia sat up, clutching her splitting head. Memories from last night flooded back like a tidal wave.

Margaret, back from the dead. Those smooth-talking servers. And her last action before blacking out—

She had violently ripped apart the clothes of that most handsome man!

Sophia gasped.

Was her drunk behavior really that terrible?