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The Scars She Hid From The World
The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.
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My terminal illness had a cure, or so the mysterious System promised: win the "absolute devotion" of my fiancé, Ethan Vanderbilt, in this staged American life.
But at the opulent Thanksgiving gala, Ethan raised his glass to another woman, publicly announcing our end and his future with Sophia Hayes, the golden girl who always won.
The System declared "Mission Failure," leaving me with nothing but a desperate desire to go home, even if it meant "dying" in this virtual world, which I tried twice, only to be stopped and accused by my former confidant Noah, and even my own brother Alex, both blindly siding with Sophia.
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Their Golden Girl, My Graveyard
My terminal illness had a cure, or so the mysterious System promised: win the "absolute devotion" of my fiancé, Ethan Vanderbilt, in this staged American life. But at the opulent Thanksgiving gala, Ethan raised his glass to another woman, publicly announcing our end and his future with Sophia Hayes
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