Chapter 2

From the day Chloe came back, Ryan became a different person.

He came home later and later. His phone was in his hand more and more.

Sometimes I'd say something and he'd hum in acknowledgment, eyes still glued to the screen. Sometimes I'd finish an entire sentence before he looked up and asked what I'd said.

Every free moment went to Chloe—phone calls, texts, social media chats.

Of course I knew who Chloe was.

Ryan's adopted sister, raised in his family, later went abroad to pursue an acting career. She had some name recognition, though nothing major. Whenever Ryan mentioned her, his voice took on a particular tone. His friends had privately complained to me about her—called her "a spoiled princess."

She'd already been overseas by the time I met Ryan. We'd never been in the same room.

That evening, I got dressed and went out with him to take Chloe to dinner. I'd even prepared a welcome gift for her.

On the drive over, he took call after call—all from Chloe.

I sat in the passenger seat staring out the window, listening to Ryan's dopey laughter, and felt something sour settle in my chest.

The moment I laid eyes on Chloe, I froze solid. The dozen-plus scars on my arms began to ache.

I knew her face better than anyone. And when I'd known her, she hadn't gone by Chloe.

She looked more mature than she had ten years ago. More imposing.

She must have heard us come in, because she slowly lifted her head, her gaze traveling past Ryan and landing on me.

Then she smiled.

The room spun. Scene after scene from the nightmare years flashed before my eyes.

Those endless summers. The stifling equipment room. The scalding curling iron…

"Why are you just standing in the doorway?"

Ryan's voice snapped me back.

I blinked. My fingers had curled into fists without my noticing.

Chloe gave me a friendly wave. "Hi there, Sophia."

"Hello." I looked away from her eyes.

I wanted to run.

The server brought menus. I took one, turned two pages, didn't absorb a single word. I set it down and turned to Ryan: "I just remembered I have something tonight—I might need to—"

"You don't have anything." He wasn't looking at me; he was leaning toward Chloe, mid-conversation.

"I really—"

"Sophia." He turned his head just long enough to give me a look—brief, but sufficient. "Sit down."

I sat.

The food came in waves. Chloe barely ate. Ryan fussed over her the entire time—was it enough, did she like it, should they order something else.

I'd been completely forgotten.

Until Chloe "accidentally" knocked an entire bowl of tom yum soup onto my face.

A full bowl. Scalding hot.

The orange broth splashed across my face, ran down my collar, and the sharp bite of spices shot straight up my nose.

My entire face erupted in stinging heat.

Chloe looked horrified. "Oh my God, I didn't mean to—I swear I didn't mean to, my hand slipped!"

She turned to Ryan, voice catching: "I didn't do it on purpose, I was just reaching for the bread, I didn't think—"

Ryan shifted toward her, patting her shoulder. "It's fine. I know it wasn't on purpose. Don't cry."

My face was burned. My blouse was soaked through.

The napkin dispenser was right next to Ryan's hand. He didn't even pass it to me first.

I reached over myself, pulled out a few napkins, and pressed them to my face.

Ryan was still comforting Chloe. She leaned into his arms, her sobs tapering off.

I peeled the napkins away from my face, picked up my bag, and stood. "I'm going to the hospital to get this looked at."

Only then did Ryan turn my way. He gave my face a cursory glance. "It's fine—just a little scald. Put some ointment on it later."

Just a little scald? I already had blisters forming.

I didn't bother responding. I pushed the door open and walked out.

At the hospital, the doctor said it was a mild burn—about a week to heal.

I was sitting in the hallway waiting for my prescription when my phone buzzed. A text from Ryan.

"You scared Chloe. She's still shaken up. Don't come home too early tonight."

I couldn't help but laugh bitterly out loud.