The night before we were due to sign the marriage license, at a party with friends, someone suggested we play the room-key game.

"Whoever's key you draw, that's who you share a room with tonight."

I frowned without thinking.

But Cecily Henson leaned in close to my ear, her smile all certainty.

"What are you afraid of? I already had someone swap them."

"The one I draw is definitely going to be your key."

So I nodded and agreed.

Then, the very next second, Cecily flipped over the key in her hand.

Written right there on it was the name of my brother, Roy Weiss.

The private room erupted.

Someone whistled. Others started egging us on.

"You lose, you pay up. Ernest Harding wouldn't be a sore loser, would he?"

Roy looked at me, his face gone pale, and rested a light hand on my shoulder.

"Ernest, don't read too much into it."

"I'm just going to keep an eye on Cecily for you tonight."

"I'm your best friend. You still don't trust me?"

Cecily frowned at me too.

"It's just a game. Don't kill everyone's mood."

I caught the same woody cologne on the both of them, picked up somewhere I hadn't noticed, and suddenly I laughed.

"All right."

"Then I'll draw one too."

I reached out and picked up the last key on the table.

When I turned it over, the whole room went quiet.

Marina Gilbert.

Cecily's sworn enemy.

I held that key and curved my lips at Cecily.

"It's just a game."

"You wouldn't be a sore loser, would you?"

——

The smile on Cecily's face faded, bit by bit.

She reached out to snatch the key from my hand.

"Ernest, stop messing around."

I moved it out of her reach and smiled.

"Isn't it just a game?"

Someone nearby jumped in at once to smooth it over.

"Ernest, this is different."

"Roy's your brother. You think he'd do you wrong?"

Someone clicked their tongue.

"Right. Your brother's watching your fiancée for you and you still can't relax?"

"Ernest, you're a little too possessive, aren't you?"

Roy stood beside Cecily, his expression already sour.

"Ernest, maybe we should just drop it."

"I don't want to be the reason you and Cecily have any trouble signing tomorrow."

As he spoke, he nudged the key forward.

But the motion was slow, as if he couldn't bear to let it go.

Cecily frowned and blocked his hand.

Then she looked at me, her tone cool.

"Roy and I have always been perfectly clean."

"If we made a point of avoiding each other tonight, it'd only look like there really was something to hide."

"Since we've got nothing to feel guilty about, there's all the more reason not to dodge it."

Roy lowered his eyes, his voice dropping low, as if he were looking out for me.

"Ernest, I know it bothers you."

"But the more Cecily and I try to avoid suspicion, the more people will imagine things."

"If we're open about it, spend one night with nothing happening, that actually proves it to you."

When he finished, he gave a bitter little smile.

"I'm your best friend."

"Are you really telling me you don't even trust me?"

I looked at the key clenched in his hand, and all at once it struck me as absurd.

Someone beside him spoke up on his behalf.

"Roy, you're just too easygoing."

"You're clearly doing Ernest a favor by watching over Cecily, and here you are acting like you did something wrong."

"Ernest, Roy's already backed down this far. What more do you want?"

Cecily knitted her brows, as if displeased by the crowd's needling.

But she didn't deny any of it.

She only murmured to Roy: "Don't worry. No one blames you."

Roy said at once:

"Don't talk about Ernest that way."

"It wasn't easy for him to make it all the way to signing with Cecily."

"After all, the Harding family isn't what it used to be. It's only natural he feels insecure."

The private room went quiet for a moment.

Then someone let out a knowing little laugh.

"True enough."

"The Hardings have been sinking these past few years. Of course Ernest has to hold on tight to the Hensons."

"No wonder he's so on edge."

The color drained slowly from my face.

After the Harding family fell, it was Cecily who came to me and offered to marry me.

She'd said, "Ernest, from now on I'll shield you. No one will dare look down on you again."

But now.

Her friends, right in front of her, were tearing open the most humiliating wound I had.

And Cecily just sat there, watching in silence.

All at once I understood.

It wasn't that they looked down on me.

It was that Cecily was letting them.

Roy seemed to finally realize he'd said the wrong thing, and hurried to apologize under his breath.

"Ernest, I'm sorry."

"That's not what I meant."

"I just hate to see you hurting."

His voice was soft, yet every word drove a cold spike into my chest.

At last Cecily reached out and pulled him behind her.

"Enough."

The look she gave me was cold in a way I didn't recognize.

"Ernest. Apologize."

For a second I thought I'd misheard.

"What did you say?"

She spelled it out, one word at a time.

"Apologize to Roy."

"He's bent over backwards to spare your feelings. He's already given this much ground."

A faint laugh slipped out of me.

"Sure."

Cecily's expression eased a little.

She probably thought I'd finally backed down.

But the next second, I lifted my head and looked straight at Roy.

"Roy."

"Tonight, you keep an eye on her for me."

His face went stiff.

I turned back to Cecily.

"As for the apology."

"Let's talk about it after I've signed the marriage license tomorrow."

Her brow sank low.

"Ernest, what's that supposed to mean?"

I gave the room key in my hand a little wave.

"Isn't it 'you bet, you lose, you pay'?"

"Guess I'd better go find my own room too."

With that, I turned and walked out.

Behind me, Cecily shot to her feet.

"Ernest!"

"If you really dare go looking for Marina Gilbert tonight, then forget about signing anything tomorrow."

My steps faltered.

Something pricked lightly at my chest.

But soon there was nothing left but numbness.

I looked back and gave her a smile.

"Perfect."

"I don't much feel like signing it either."

As I stepped out of the private room, the laughter swelled up again behind me.

Someone deliberately lowered their voice, and still it carried, clear as day, right into my ears.

"Cecily, Ernest really needs to fix that temper of his."

"Signing the license tomorrow and he's still throwing breakups around to scare people."

Cecily's voice came out flat.

"Relax. He can't bear to leave me. Everyone knows exactly what shape the Hardings are in right now, don't they?"

A burst of laughter.

Cecily didn't come after me.

I stood at the far end of the hallway, gripping that room key with Marina Gilbert's name on it, and suddenly I remembered a long time ago.

Back then, Cecily hadn't been like this.

The year the Harding family first fell apart, I went to a dinner party with her for the first time.

Someone had deliberately seated me at the very foot of the table.

Partway through the meal, one of them said with a smile,

"The Hardings are in that kind of state and Ernest can still show his face at a gathering like this. Solid nerves on him."

The whole table laughed.

I sat there clutching my glass, my face burning.

The next second, Cecily set her glass down hard on the table.

"Wherever Ernest sits, that's the head of the table."

And with that, she got up from the seat of honor and came to sit beside me.

That night, she draped her own coat over my shoulders.

Blocking out all those appraising stares.

Back then I really was moved by the overwhelming way Cecily favored me.

I believed she would love me and protect me forever.

Later, I was the one who brought Roy into this circle with my own hands.

The first time he walked into that private club on the city's outskirts, his palms were sweating with nerves.

He stood behind me and murmured, "Ernest, everyone here seems so impressive."

"What if I embarrass you?"

I smiled and straightened his tie for him.

"What's there to be afraid of?"

"You're my brother."

"With me here, no one would dare push you around."

That suit was one I lent him.

That auction was one I brought him to.

One by one, I introduced him to every connection I knew.

Back then, Cecily had even warned me.

"Ernest, people in this circle are cold-hearted."

"Don't bring just anyone in."

I thought she was worried about me.

So I smiled and said,

"Roy isn't just anyone."

"He's my best friend."

She said nothing more.

But somewhere along the way,

her attitude toward Roy changed.

The first time was at the auction.

Roy didn't know the rules and raised his paddle by mistake.

An antique wristwatch. Three point eight million.

His face went white with fright, and for a long moment he couldn't get a word out.

I was about to go speak with the organizers on his behalf.

But Cecily had already spoken first.

"Put it on my account."

Roy stared at her, dazed.

She handed the paddle to an attendant, her tone offhand.

"It's only a few million."

"What's there to panic about?"

That day, I had my eye on a pair of emerald cufflinks too.

Not expensive, but beautiful.

Cecily glanced at them and said flatly,

"The Harding family is under a lot of scrutiny right now."

"It's not a good time for you to draw attention."

So I didn't bid.

Later that antique wristwatch ended up on Roy's wrist.

He posted online: "Made a fool of myself at my first auction. Good thing someone had my back."

In the photo, Cecily's watch had made it into the frame.

I stared at that picture for a long time.

But still I told myself.

Cecily was only helping him for my sake.

The second time was at a racing outing.

Cecily loved racing.

Before, the only one who had ever ridden in her passenger seat was me.

Then one time, Roy stood beside the car, his eyes bright, and said,

"I've never ridden shotgun in a supercar before."

Cecily glanced at him, then tossed the car keys to me.

"You take the car behind."

"I'll take him around a lap."

I froze where I stood.

But she had already pulled open the door for Roy.

Over the roar of the engine, Roy was laughing, happy as could be.

That night, he posted online.

"First time riding shotgun. My palms were sweating."

"Someone told me, don't be scared."

Don't be scared.

Those words had once belonged only to me.

The third time was before the engagement party.

I picked out a dark-green suit.

But Cecily only gave it one glance.

"Too flashy. It doesn't suit you."

I looked down at my cuffs, and in the end I changed into the black one she liked.

But half a month later, I saw that dark-green suit on Roy.

Smiling, he asked Cecily, "Does it look good?"

Cecily looked at him, and for a moment there was something dazzled in her eyes.

"It suits you."

Roy later took a photo and sent it to me, saying, as if in passing,

"Ernest, Cecily says this color really makes me look full of life."

"You don't mind, do you?"

I answered back then that I didn't.

But the ache in my chest lasted a long time.

Now that I think about it.

So this was how a person's place gets given away, bit by bit.

First a wristwatch.

Then the passenger seat.