On the day I returned to the country, the close friend who had promised to pick me up never showed up.

After asking around, I found out that she had been bullied.

Her half-sister not only stole her fiancé but was also trying to seize the inheritance her mother had left behind.

They even arranged for her to marry a scumbag, not allowing her to step out of the house.

When I heard about this, I went straight to her home to bring her out. Her sister rolled her eyes at me and said,

"What, are you trying to seduce my fiancé?"

I smiled. "Why don’t you call him here and see if he dares to talk to me like that?"

I had been recovering abroad for five years. When the doctor finally told me my health had improved enough for me to come home, I was overjoyed.

Besides my own family, the person I wanted to see most was my best friend, Emily Carter.

During my first three years overseas, Emily came with me so that I wouldn’t be alone in a foreign country.

She learned to cook for me, accompanied me to medical checkups, and protected me whenever I needed it.

But because she stayed abroad with me, she missed the chance to see her mother one last time before her mother’s unexpected passing two years ago. That has always been my deepest guilt.

Later, Emily told me she suspected her mother’s death wasn’t an accident.

Her father had always kept a mistress outside, who had also given birth to a daughter only a few months younger than Emily.

On the day Emily buried her mother, that mistress walked into the house with her daughter, as if they belonged there.

So Emily decided to stay in Silverlake, guarding the home and everything her mother had left behind.

I respected her decision, but I told her clearly: “If there’s ever trouble you can’t handle, you must tell me.”

She just laughed on the phone and said she understood.

I didn’t know if she had really taken my words to heart. But when my plane landed and I walked out of the airport without seeing Emily, I knew she hadn’t.

Half a month ago, when I confirmed my return date, she was the first person I told. She had sounded so happy, promising to come pick me up. But she never came.

Emily was not the kind of person who would break a promise, nor would she suddenly be unavailable without telling me.

So when the chauffeur and the family butler pulled up in front of me, I looked at the butler and instructed:

"Go find out everything about Emily Carter, the eldest daughter of the Carter family in Silverlake, over the past few days."

Emily and I had first met by chance.

Back then, she was dressed in a mascot costume outside a dessert shop, trying to make her boyfriend happy.

Meanwhile, my own boyfriend had hired the mascot to surprise me, knowing I loved pink teddy bears.

But that day I was upset and didn’t show up. Emily was forced to wait with him all day.

By nightfall, he still wouldn’t let her leave, even trying to pay her extra to stay. Emily cried in frustration, and only then did my boyfriend realize the teddy bear mascot was actually a young woman.

Unable to fix the situation, he called me in a panic—and that’s how Emily and I met.

Her boyfriend ignored her for days afterward. I felt guilty and tried to help mediate, but Emily assured me she didn’t blame him.

"I didn’t know he had hired someone as a mascot just for you. The real fault lies with the performer who double-booked jobs."

She was clear-headed, kind, and soft-spoken. More importantly, she looked so sweet and gentle—the little sister type I had always dreamed of.

From then on, we became friends.

From the moment I learned her name, I already knew she was the eldest daughter of the Carter family in Silverlake. But because I wanted our friendship to remain pure, I never brought up her background—and she never asked about mine.

As I was lost in thought about Emily, the butler soon returned with news.

"Two years ago, Richard Carter’s wife passed away. Not long after, he married his mistress and brought her daughter into the house. That girl then stole Emily’s engagement."

"Recently, the Carters arranged a new match for Emily, but it’s just some low-level employee with an ordinary family background."

My gaze darkened. I immediately told the driver,

"Don’t take me home. Go to Silverlake."

When I arrived at the Carter estate in Silverlake, I only brought a single bodyguard with me.

"I’m here to see Emily Carter. I’m her friend."

At first, the housekeeper didn’t want to let me in. So I left a message for them instead:

"If the stepmother runs the house and even the real daughter’s friends aren’t allowed to visit, this kind of wealthy family scandal will be quite the talk of the town."

It wasn’t long before the housekeeper returned to invite me inside.

In the living room, Emily was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a woman wearing glittering jewelry sat there with her daughter, Olivia Carter.

Emily and Olivia. Even their names seemed designed to mock Emily and her late mother.

"What do you do for a living?" Olivia’s mother asked.

I casually replied, “I run social media accounts.”

Emily had once told me that outside the home, identities were whatever you chose for yourself.

Now I saw she had been right.

"I didn’t expect Emily to have such capable friends. Sit for a while, she’s still getting ready. Young ladies always take their time with appearances."

Her smile was sharp-edged, belittling Emily right in front of her guest, making it clear how little respect she had for her stepdaughter.

It was easy to imagine how hard Emily’s life had been in this household over the past two years.

I felt a pang of pity. My voice grew colder as I said, “It’s fine, ma’am, I understand. After all, I was also left waiting at the door for a long time just now. If someone has a poor reputation, it’s only natural for them to be hesitant about showing their face.”

The stepmother’s face stiffened, but she held back her anger. Olivia, however, wasn’t so restrained.

"What did you just say?" she snapped.

I remained seated, smiling pleasantly. “Ah, so this must be the Carter family’s second young lady. Among wealthy heiresses, even the ill-tempered ones know not to shout in public. You should really learn some manners.”

Of course, heiresses come in all temperaments. I said it only to spite her.

Furious, Olivia was about to order me out when Emily appeared.

The moment I saw her, my heart ached. She was much thinner than two years ago. Once so full of life, she now looked even weaker than I had when I was ill.

I couldn’t hold back. I stood up and went straight to her.

Her eyes reddened as soon as she saw me. “Claire.”

She threw herself into my arms, trembling uncontrollably.

I patted her back, soothing her emotions, though my gaze flicked toward Olivia and her mother with a chill of ice.

"Emily, it’s good that your friend is here. It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to. But don’t go out tonight—it’s late, and I’d worry something might happen to you."

When Emily heard her stepmother call herself “Mom,” her body stiffened noticeably.

I turned to look at the woman, my eyes full of naked contempt.

But instead of replying to her, I said to Emily, “Come on, let’s go out for dinner.”

Olivia immediately blocked our way, shouting, “Didn’t you hear what my mom just said?”

"You said it yourself—it was your mom speaking. Emily’s real mother is in her grave. What’s the matter, did you hear her calling for you from there?"

I gripped Emily’s hand tighter, casting a sharp warning glance at the stepmother.

"For someone who could have a mistress’s daughter the same age as his own, surely he wouldn’t be so petty as to stop the real daughter from going out for a meal with her friend, right?"

Every word stabbed at the stepmother’s sore spots. She understood my jab at her as the mistress-turned-wife. Her face turned pale, then green, then pale again, before she forced out a strained smile.

"Of course not. If Emily wants to go out, she can—just don’t stay out too late."

I took Emily to a restaurant.

Watching her eat so ravenously only deepened my heartache.

When she finally slowed down, I asked softly, “Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling?”

Her hands froze, eyes reddening. “Claire, I don’t have any family left.”

Tears streamed down her face as she recounted her past two years.

When she first returned home, her mother had been cremated hastily, and Emily herself had to pay for the burial plot.

Before the seven-day mourning period had even passed, her father had moved the mistress and Olivia into the house.

"I thought Jason Shaw would support me. But no—he slept with Olivia instead, and in the very new home my mom had bought for me!"

Her grief and fury were palpable.

"Did you get the house back?" I asked.

She shook her head. “My father wanted to transfer it to Olivia. Luckily, my mother left a will. I made sure to notarize it as soon as I returned, so they couldn’t take it.”

Emily was clever—I had always known that.

All these years, while I lived comfortably abroad, it was only thanks to her wisdom and resilience.

She always said, “What’s happened has already happened. Leave the sadness for later. The most important thing is to protect yourself in the moment.”

My heart broke that she had lost her mother so young, and worse, that she had to fight alone to protect what rightfully belonged to her.

"They want you to marry someone?" I asked again.

She nodded, though there was a hint of relief in her eyes.

"Yes—"

But before she could finish, angry voices erupted outside the private dining room. Olivia was trying to force her way in, but the bodyguard held her back, and she screamed incessantly.

I turned to Emily. “Does she bully you often?”

Emily gave a bitter smile. “Dad dotes on her. He thinks she’s had a hard life outside the family all these years, so he wants to give her everything. He even tried to hand over the dowry my mom prepared for me so she could marry my fiancé instead.”

Her fiancé was Jason Shaw. His reputation was awful—a notorious playboy. He already had over twenty official girlfriends, and countless unofficial flings.

Not even thirty yet, his health was already failing like an old man’s.

And yet women still lined up to marry him, simply because the Shaw family had such influence in the corporate world. Olivia was one of them.

The Carter family wanted to climb higher through this marriage but didn’t want Emily to gain status over them, so they let Olivia snatch the engagement instead.

"A fiancé who can be stolen isn’t worth suffering for. As for the dowry…"

My eyes narrowed. “If you trust me, make a list of everything your mother prepared for you.”

"Of course I trust you, Claire. But my family situation is too messy. Now that Jason is backing Olivia, I don’t want you dragged into this.”

Even while trapped in her own nightmare, Emily worried about me.

I smiled at her, trying to ease her fears.

"Don’t worry. I’m back now—and I won’t let anyone bully you again."