Before I could step into my room, Morgan reached out and caught my arm, his grip firm.

“Hey, since Demi’s birthday is coming up soon, why don’t you give her this jewelry set as a gift? I’m sure she would appreciate it.” His tone held a subtle pressure, and he met my gaze with a pointed look.

“Yeah,” Nate chimed in, nodding in agreement. His voice, oddly supportive of Morgan’s suggestion, held a strange warmth. “She’s been through a lot, Ariel. This would really mean a lot to her. Why don’t you come with us to the hospital and make amends?”

A surge of bitterness rose in me, and my hands clenched tightly around the jewelry box. Without turning to face them, I kept my voice cold. “I already said it’s up to you two. Now, let go of me. I have things to take care of.”

Morgan’s grip slackened reluctantly, and I could feel their eyes on me, disappointment etched in their silence. But I did not care. I had more important things to do, to pack up my life, handle my father’s affairs, and figure out my next steps.

As I moved inside, I caught their murmurs drifting through the half-open door, likely about how they could present the jewelry to Demi to make it seem romantic. A dry chuckle escaped me as I grabbed my suitcase, amused by the irony of the situation.

I set to packing, methodically folding clothes and filling the suitcase. The sight must have caught their attention because they peered in, eyes widening as they took in my half-filled bag.

Realization dawned on their faces, but before either could speak, Nate’s phone rang, cutting through the silence.

“Yeah, Demi, we’re coming. Just sit tight,” Nate said softly into the phone.

With barely a second glance at me, he and Morgan rushed out, their urgent footsteps echoing down the hall as they hurried to her side. I listened until the last sound faded, leaving only an empty silence.

Once I had finished with my clothes, I turned my attention to a large box on top of the closet. It was filled with birthday gifts my mother had sent every year, from my earliest days to my twenty-second birthday.

As I pulled it down, a wave of nostalgia hit me, followed by a sinking realization: in this world, my mother was the only one left who truly loved me, making the decision to leave Stanmore solidified with each passing minute.

As I placed the last of my belongings into the suitcase, my phone buzzed with a new notification.

I checked it out in case it was important, but only got Demi's latest post. It seemed like she was really excited to post that day.

She even uploaded two photos: one of Nate and Morgan standing by her side with a bag of clothes, and the other showing off the jewelry set they had brought for her.

The caption read, [What a lovely set of jewelry! My birthday is still two days away, but @Nathan_Than and @Your_Morgan have already given me this precious gift. Thank you, guys!!]

Anger simmered beneath my calm facade. I typed a comment, barely suppressing my frustration, [Well, you deserve it, Demi.]

Then, with a wry smile, I tossed my phone onto the bed and went to my father’s study.

The study, still untouched, was a haven of order and detail. My father had been meticulous, and he kept records of every connection and contact in a leather-bound book.

Leafing through, I quickly found the name I sought: Jerome Morrow, a college friend and trusted partner of my father’s.

I dialed the number, and he picked up on the second ring. After a brief conversation, we arranged to meet at my father’s studio the following day to discuss the arrangements.

**

The next day, I arrived at the studio to find a man waiting, his face instantly recognizable from an old photograph my father had cherished. “Mr. Morrow?” I greeted him, extending a hand.

He smiled warmly and took my hand. “Yes, that’s me. And you must be Ariel. The last time I saw you, you were just a little girl, so you might not remember.”

I returned his smile, feeling a sense of comfort in his familiarity. “Thank you for meeting me, Mr. Morrow,” I said as we walked into the studio, the space filled with memories of my father.

We talked for a while, and I explained my plans to leave, asking if he could oversee the business in my absence. His expression turned serious, but he nodded, understanding the weight of my request.

“Of course, Ariel,” he replied, a gentle respect in his voice. “I would be honored to look after your father’s studio. He was one of the finest jewelry designers I have ever known.”

A soft light came into his eyes as he continued, “In fact, he once designed a piece called the Diamond Jade. It was truly special.”

My curiosity piqued. “Diamond Jade? I don’t think I have ever seen it.”

Jerome’s gaze softened. “Your father designed it back in college. He intended it for his wife, hoping it would eventually pass to his children and grandchildren. But when your parents divorced, he entrusted it to me, unable to bear the sadness it brought him.

“You know, Ariel, they truly loved each other, but sometimes, love and ambition clash. They chose their careers over staying together.”

His words struck a bittersweet chord within me. I nodded, feeling a strange sense of connection to the legacy my father had left behind. “Thank you for sharing that, Mr. Morrow.”

“And I think it’s time this piece found its way back to you,” he said, offering it to me. “I can send it through a courier if you would prefer.”

“Yes, please. Thank you,” I said, my gratitude genuine.

After finalizing the details with Mr. Morrow, I returned home, feeling lighter but determined to finish what I had started.

Yet as I stepped through the front door, I froze, my relief vanishing in an instant.

Demi was seated comfortably on the couch, a smug smile on her face as she opened a jewelry box with a look of pure satisfaction.

My heart dropped as I recognized the Diamond Jade, the piece Jerome had promised to send me.

The sight of her fingers on that precious heirloom ignited a fury I had not felt in years.

“Don’t you dare touch what isn’t yours!” I snapped, storming over to her, my voice filled with cold anger.

“Oh, calm down, Ariel! It’s not like I’m going to break it or anything,” Demi scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m just curious about what’s inside.”

“Give it back, Demi,” I said, reaching for the jewelry box she clutched.

But seeing me react only seemed to amuse her, and a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. She danced out of reach, her fingers still firmly wrapped around the box.

“Oh, I wonder how important this cheap jewelry is to you,” she taunted as she cracked open the box, revealing the delicate necklace inside.

Her eyes lit up as she took in the intricate design. Then, she took the necklace and threw the box carelessly.

“Let me just try it on,” she said, ignoring my outstretched hand. “Don’t worry, I will give it back once I’m done.”

“Demi, don’t!” I lunged forward, but she spun around, holding the necklace just out of reach.

She was practically laughing as she dodged my attempts, clearly enjoying herself.

Finally, I managed to grab hold of the necklace, but Demi clung to it stubbornly, refusing to let go.

“Get your dirty hands off of it, Demi!” I snapped, desperation rising in my voice.

“Why are you so stingy, Ariel?” she sneered. “I told you I would give it back. You’re overreacting.”

We wrestled for control, neither of us willing to back down. In the heat of the struggle, the necklace slipped from our grasp and clattered to the floor, snapping at the delicate clasp.

I froze, staring in horror as the piece lay in fragments on the floor.

At that moment, the front door opened, and Morgan and Nate stepped inside, arms full of bags of food they had bought for Demi. Their eyes widened as they took in the scene.

Demi, sensing an opportunity, instantly burst into tears, clutching her hand where the broken jewelry had cut her.

Morgan and Nate dropped their bags, their faces pale with concern as they rushed over to her.

“Demi, are you alright?” Nate asked, his voice filled with worry.

He shot me a glare as he examined her hand. “Ariel, you should be grateful that Demi's okay after yesterday’s accident, but here you are making her cry again. What’s wrong with you?”

It was the first time Nate had ever raised his voice at me, and his words struck deep. He was not looking at me as the friend he had known for fifteen years, but as some villain in Demi’s carefully spun web.

Morgan did not even acknowledge me as he knelt beside Demi, softly asking her what had happened and completely uninterested in hearing my side.

“I just wanted to try on the necklace,” Demi whimpered, her voice shaky as she clung to Nate. “But Ariel got all possessive and grabbed it from me. I just wanted to see it up close.”

“Ariel,” Morgan said, his tone heavy with disappointment, “She is your younger cousin. You should have just let her try it on. As the older cousin, it would not have hurt you to be generous.”

I took a deep breath, willing myself not to cry, even as the hurt and frustration welled up inside me.

I knelt down to collect the broken pieces of my father’s last design, feeling the sharp edges cut into my palm. But I forced myself to stay calm, determined to play the game Demi had set.

Forcing tears to my eyes, I looked up at them with a trembling voice. “This isn’t just any jewelry, Morgan. This was my father’s final piece, the one he designed before he passed away. He left it for me, for my dowry, for my wedding day.”

My voice broke as I stared at the broken necklace, knowing I had never seen it intact again. “How could I be calm while Demi was trying to make it hers?”

Morgan and Nate stared at me, but instead of understanding, their expressions hardened.

“Ariel,” Morgan said quietly, shaking his head, “Demi just wanted to see it, not steal it. You are blowing this way out of proportion.”

Nate, meanwhile, was busy cleaning Demi’s cuts, his voice filled with anger as he looked at me. “Look at her hand, Ariel. If you would just let her try it on, she would not have gotten hurt. She just got out of the hospital, crying out loud.”

I glanced down at my own hand, where blood from the broken jewelry smeared across my skin. But neither Morgan nor Nate seemed to notice.

Their attention was solely on Demi, who looked at me with smug satisfaction, her face hidden from their view.

After making sure Demi was comfortable, Nate picked her up and carried her over to the sofa, cradling her as he took out the first aid kit.

Morgan crouched down in front of me, his voice low and firm. “When you’re done cleaning up this mess, you owe Demi an apology. At the hospital, she told us that she was the one who had provoked you on the stairs yesterday. She even blamed herself for pushing your buttons, but never once did she demand an apology from you.”

He looked at me with a mixture of pity and frustration. “She is two years younger than you, Ariel. You need to act more maturely.”

A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I replied, “Oh, so that’s the story you two believe. Fine. Just go on believing it.”

Ignoring the blood trickling from my hand, I gathered the broken pieces of the necklace, each shard feeling like a weight against my palm.

My chest ached, but it was not the cuts that hurt, it was the pain of being completely dismissed by the people I once trusted most.

While Nate gently bandaged Demi’s hand, the two of them took turns feeding her the food they had brought, treating her like a delicate doll.

Meanwhile, I quietly cleaned my own wound under the kitchen faucet, feeling more alone than ever.

Once the bleeding had stopped, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the screen and saw my mother’s name.

Her familiar voice brought a calm I had not felt all day.

“Hey, dear. Are you finished with everything there?” Her voice was warm, laced with that steady reassurance I had come to miss so deeply. “If you’re ready, I can arrange a plane ticket for you on a private flight.”

I felt a small smile tug at my lips. “Thanks, Mom. I can book the flight myself. I have plenty of savings. Maybe not as much as yours, but enough.”

She chuckled. “I’m sure your dad and your grandparents left you more than enough to get by. Oh, and don’t forget to say goodbye to them before you leave.”

“I was planning to,” I said, glancing toward the hallway, where Demi’s laughter echoed as she chatted with Morgan and Nate. “I will make my rounds, then take care of my ticket.”

“Okay, tell me if you have booked your flight, since I will ask your future husband to pick you up,” she teased with a broad smile.

I couldn’t help but stutter when she replied teasingly, “Oh my God, it is not like the marriage will….”

But just as I said that, I sensed someone behind me.

Turning around, I found Nate and Morgan rushing towards me from the door with shocked faces, and they both said in unison: "What? You're going abroad to get married?"

Both of them stared at me, and I felt the weight of their curiosity pressing in. Even Demi’s attention turned sharply toward me, a flash of irritation crossing her face at the thought of the attention shifting my way.

Trying to deflect their suspicion, I answered with a casual smile, “Well, it’s nothing major. There’s a jewelry show abroad, and they sent me an invitation. He just wanted to know if I could make it, so I have got to take care of the travel details right away.”

I glanced pointedly at Nate and Morgan, skipping Demi. But their expressions told me they were not entirely satisfied with that explanation, so I offered more.

“Oh, for the wedding, it just so happens that my friend overseas is also getting married, so after the jewelry show, I'm going straight to her wedding. Would you two like to come along?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light, though I knew they would likely refuse.

As expected, both of them shook their heads, exchanging a glance. “No, we will pass,” Nate said quickly, not even considering it.

Morgan nodded, his tone apologetic but firm. “Thanks, Ariel, but I think we should not go if Demi could not go.”

Of course, Demi did not hide her smirk, clearly pleased that they had chosen her over me.

My chest tightened, but I kept a calm face. “Alright then,” I said, forcing a small, disappointed sigh. “Just thought I would ask.”

Relieved that their interest was satisfied, they quickly lost focus on me and returned to whatever they found fun, their backs turned as they resumed their laughter and conversation with Demi.

Forcing down the sting of hurt, I headed back to my room, the once-familiar warmth of their presence replaced with an isolating chill.

As I stepped into my room, I closed the door and leaned against it, feeling the silent weight of everything I had lost pressing in on me.

They did not even care enough to ask why I wanted to leave or if I was alright. With a resigned sigh, I continued packing, mentally preparing for my final days there in Stanmore.

**

The next morning, I made my way to the kitchen, hoping for a quiet breakfast.

But as I entered, I froze and my eyes widening at the mess of dishes and flour scattered everywhere.

Demi, Nate, and Morgan were crowded around the kitchen counter, laughing and joking as they worked together, clearly in the middle of baking.

Hearing me open the refrigerator, Nate turned with a playful grin. “Well, well, Sleeping Beauty is finally awake!”

Morgan chuckled, joining in. “Never thought I would see the day when Ariel sleeps in! Back in college, you were the one always up early, getting us out of bed.”

I managed a tight smile, saying nothing. Their laughter continued as if I were just a passing guest in my own home, not the person who once shared those moments with them.

Demi, ever the opportunist, seized the moment to take a jab. “Ariel always wakes up late now. I think the two of you were just too noisy and woke her up.” She laughed, her tone mocking.

Nate and Morgan both chuckled and gave a half-hearted apology. “Oh, sorry about that,” Nate said, not sounding sorry at all.

“But since you’re up,” Nate continued, holding up a plate, “come on and try this cake we made! Since Demi’s birthday party was canceled, we decided to celebrate it with a cake, but Demi’s got a real knack for baking; it’s amazing.”

Morgan nodded enthusiastically. “You will love it. Honestly, if I had known she was this good, we should have asked Demi for baking tips back when we were making those failed cookies.”

A pang of sadness hit me. Baking had been one of our favorite things to do together. We did not care if we failed or succeeded; it was just about spending time together.

At that moment, it was as if those memories had faded, as if those moments were just trivial parts of the past, replaced by Demi.

Demi cut a slice of cake and held it out to me with a sweet smile. “Here you go, Ariel,” she said, her tone dripping with insincerity. “Hope you like it.”

I looked at the cake, suspicious of Demi’s sudden kindness. “No, thanks. I’m on a gluten-free diet,” I replied smoothly, trying to avoid it without causing a scene.

But Nate rolled his eyes. “Come on, Ariel. Stop being so stingy and give Demi’s cake a chance. She worked hard on it!”

Morgan added with a grin, “Yeah, a little piece won’t kill you, Ariel.”

Reluctantly, I picked up a fork and took a small bite, mostly to get them to stop pressuring me.

The moment the cake touched my tongue, a familiar, sickly-sweet taste hit me, and my stomach dropped.

As the taste of mango fulfilled my throat, it tightened, and my skin began to itch almost immediately.

I dropped the fork, feeling panic rise as I tossed the plate aside, unable to hold back my reaction.

But as the plate clattered to the floor, Nate’s and Morgan’s eyes widened, and Demi let out an exaggerated gasp, dropping to her knees to clean up her supposedly ruined cake.

“What is your problem, Ariel?” Nate snapped, a hint of anger in his tone. “Demi worked so hard on this, and you just threw it away?”

Demi’s voice trembled, her eyes filling with tears as she glanced up at me. “Is my cake really that bad?” She sniffed, her face twisted in an expression of hurt that anyone would believe.

Morgan glared at me; his tone filled with disappointment. “Could you not just pretend to like it, Ariel? You did not have to humiliate her like that.”

But I could not focus on their scolding, since the allergic reaction was already kicking in.

My throat was tightening, and my vision started to blur. My hands even shook as I reached into my pocket for my phone, struggling to dial emergency services.

My ears were also buzzing, muffling their voices as they continued to clean up the mess, oblivious to my distress.

“Hello?” I rasped into the phone, trying to stay calm as the operator answered. “I need an ambulance. It is an allergic reaction…” My voice was faint, but I managed to give them my address before my hand dropped to my side, barely able to stay on my feet.