Emily's hand lingered in Andrew's longer than she meant it to. The warmth spread through her fingers, familiar, dangerous.
"I almost didn't recognize you," Andrew said, voice calm but edged with something unreadable. "You've changed a lot."
Her chest tightened. He hadn't changed. Not really. He was still Andrew,the boy who had once been her light when the world seemed unbearable. But light could cast shadows too, and Andrew's were longer now.
Before she could speak, Bianca's voice sliced the moment in two.
"Sara?" she gasped, eyes widening with excitement. "I thought you said you couldn't make it until tomorrow!"
Emily turned slowly, pulse thudding in her ears.
A blonde goddess swept into the room, hair tumbling in effortless waves, her figure sculpted by a sleek designer dress that clung to every line. Sara Walker. The socialite everyone in high society wanted to be—or wanted to have. She had money, charm, and a reputation polished like glass.
Bianca ran to hug her, practically glowing. "You made it! You look stunning, as always."
Emily swallowed hard as Andrew stepped away from her, stride sure, eyes softening in a way Emily hadn't seen in years. He slid an arm around Sara's waist, leaned down, and kissed her like they were a perfect match.
Andrew, heir turned CEO of Williams.Co.Sara, society's golden darling.Together, flawless.
And Emily? A ghost in their world.
She clenched her fists, whispering inside her mind, You are not weak anymore. You are stronger now.
But it didn't stop the sting. Because Andrew and Sara were always on-and-off—chaos wrapped in silk. Everyone knew it. There were whispers, scandals, reconciliations. Emily had told herself she didn't care, that she had moved on. But she'd followed the headlines, sometimes even scrolling through Andrew's socials when no one was looking.
"Emily Miller's back," Sara's voice cooed, too sweet to be real. Her smile was dazzling, her eyes venom.
To the room, Sara was class, grace, elegance. To Emily, she was the reason for scars that still ached six years later.
Memories clawed at her. Painful, humiliating, sharp as glass. The secret she'd buried. The reason she'd left. The wound that had never healed.
She had told no one. Not Edward, who would have stood by her in a heartbeat. Not Bianca, who believed Sara was flawless. Not even Andrew, who once had been her light.
How could she? Richard, her stepfather, had given her mother happiness and stability. Sara's family and Richard's world overlapped, and Emily had already spent too long being treated as a burden by relatives before. She wouldn't risk shattering her mother's marriage, wouldn't strain bonds she'd fought so hard to keep.
So she carried it alone.
Sara stepped closer, radiating perfection. She wrapped Emily in a hug so convincing that even Edward smiled faintly at the gesture. But no one else could hear the whisper Sara slipped against her ear.
"You shouldn't have come back."
Emily stiffened. A chill spread down her spine, sweat dampening her skin beneath her dress.
But she would not flinch. Not anymore.
Pulling back, Emily forced a faint smile. "Excuse me, I just remembered—I need to make a call. Work-related."
Edward's brows furrowed instantly, protective as ever. "Em, where are you going? Everything okay?"
She nodded, steady but pale. "Just a minute."
Andrew's gaze lingered on her, narrowed as though he could sense something. For a moment, their eyes caught, and she thought—just for a second—that the boy who had once been her light still saw her.
But then Sara's hand curled around his arm, her lips brushing his cheek.
"I missed you," she whispered loudly enough for everyone else to hear.
Andrew turned toward her, distracted, drawn back into the perfection of the golden couple.
Emily slipped away, her smile brittle, her heart pounding with a mix of rage, pain, and determination.
No one in that room knew the truth.No one saw the scars.Only Sara.
And that made her return more dangerous than anyone realized.