Joanna waved her hands frantically, clearly flustered by the request.

"Of course, Mrs. Sanchez. Whatever you need."

Mrs. Sanchez.

Hearing that title again felt like a cruel joke.

"You never saw me today," I said.

My phone screen lit up.

The video call was still connected. It had been silent all night, and only now did a voice finally come through.

"Babe, I was swamped last night, so I muted the call. Didn't want to disturb your sleep. You're not mad, right?"

How thoughtful.

What a perfectly packaged excuse.

Joanna broke into a nervous sweat on her boss's behalf. From what she'd heard, Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez had been through countless breakups and reconciliations. She figured my request to pretend she'd never seen me was just another attempt to smooth things over and stay with him.

I said nothing.

I pressed the end-call button.

Joanna stared after me, stunned.

By the time I got home that evening, the living room was cluttered with suitcases.

Julia came bounding toward me wearing my pajamas.

"Cathy! You understand, right?" She clasped her hands together with that helpless little look she'd perfected. "The stupid System is forcing me to follow the storyline. I had no choice but to move in."

I sidestepped her without a word.

The sight of her in my clothes made my stomach turn.

Disgusting.

James caught the revulsion on my face instantly.

"Cathy, don't make a scene." His voice was sharp, almost scolding. "You've always said you grew up wearing Julia's hand-me-downs. She wears one thing of yours, and you pull that face?"

The words landed like a bat to the back of my skull.

The calm surface inside me shattered into a thousand waves.

Growing up, I never had the right to buy my own clothes. The only things I ever wore were whatever Julia had discarded, whatever my mother tossed my way like scraps. In their eyes, I was never a daughter. I was invisible. They only ever saw the Heroine.

When James had first heard all of this, back when things were different, he'd kissed my tears away. He'd held me like I might break.

Now he stood there lecturing me.

"What expression should I use, then?" My voice came out low, steady, and foreign even to my own ears. "Should I get on my knees and say, 'Dear bestie, it's my absolute honor that you're wearing my clothes'? Would that satisfy you?"

Silence.

Neither of them had expected that. The Catherine Simmons who had always been soft, always compliant, always easy to push around, was pushing back.

James flinched at the mockery on my face. His tone softened a fraction.

"I'll buy you new ones. Problem solved."

Of course. Everything I owned, he'd given me. Every last thing.

The bitter smile on my face widened.

Just last night, I'd actually considered forgiving him.

I must have been out of my mind.

"You'll stay in the guest room for now," he continued, not a shred of guilt in his voice. "Julia can't sleep well in unfamiliar beds, so she'll take the master bedroom."

He said it like it was the most reasonable arrangement in the world. Like I was the unreasonable one.

"And where will you sleep?" I asked.

For once, his gaze flickered. Just barely.

"The master bedroom." He cleared his throat. "You know I have to help Julia complete her System Missions, so..."

His lips kept moving.

But I couldn't hear him anymore.

I was thinking about when, exactly, he had changed.

Was it when Julia had "accidentally" sent him her nude photos?

That was the first time I'd ever brought up divorce. My hands had been shaking so badly I could barely hold the papers. But deep down, all I'd really wanted was to push him away and see if he'd come back. As if that was the only way I could prove he truly loved me.

"Okay," I said, pulling every emotion back behind a wall.

If he had asked me just one question. Where I'd been. What had happened to me. Just one.

I would have thrown the miscarriage report in his face.

James grabbed my hand. "Cathy..."

Julia sidled up beside us.

"Oh, Cathy must be exhausted. Let's not bother her."

Then she leaned in close, her lips brushing my ear, her voice pitched so low that only I could hear.

"Stolen from you again, loser."

My lashes trembled.

"Congratulations."

When I knocked on my father's study door that evening, his teacup sailed straight at my head.

It would have hit, too, if I hadn't dodged.

"Who told you to come in here?"

The study was the sanctuary for their happy little family of three. A place I was never allowed to touch.

I stepped over the shattered porcelain.

Placed the USB drive in front of him.

"I want a plane ticket and five percent of the company shares."

He looked at me like I'd lost my mind.

Until he plugged in the drive.

Every drop of color drained from his face.

"Fine."

A long silence passed before he said it.

I stood to leave.

Behind me came a voice so hoarse and aged it barely sounded human.

"Catherine... is there anything else you want?"

"Please, don't hate your sister. She had no choice."

I thought I would lose my mind. That my chest would crack open.

"Sure. Ten percent. Wire it to my account."

After the door closed behind me, I heard a sigh.

My mother was standing in the hallway. I had no idea how long she'd been listening.

"Where... where are you flying to?"

"Do you want me to help you pack?"

A cruel smile tugged at my lips.

"Sure."

I followed her, step by step, to my room.

No. The storage closet.

Her entire body went rigid.

Once she'd seen enough, I turned and walked away.

She called after me.

I didn't answer.

I slept well that night.

When James woke, the first word from his lips was a murmur.

"Catherine..."

He sat up and saw a stack of papers on the nightstand.

Videos of his precious Julia.

And a miscarriage report.