I slammed the front door of the Monroe house, my fingers clamped around the silver flash drive in my pocket. Proof. I had proof. But I needed the final piece to make him believe me.
I sprinted up the narrow stairs to my cramped attic bedroom. My chest heaved as I grabbed the brass handle of my dresser. I yanked the top drawer open, ready to grab the velvet box.
Empty.
I blinked. Dropping to my knees, I pulled the wooden drawer entirely out of its tracks. Nothing. The small black box holding Darius’s ring was gone. The lavender perfume he bought me? Vanished. The braided leather bracelet he made during his occupational therapy sessions? Missing.
Even the loose change and my spare hair ties were scattered across the floor. Someone had gutted my space.
Downstairs, the heavy oak front door clicked open.
"Put the shopping bags on the dining table, Mother," Celeste’s voice echoed up the stairwell, sharp and commanding.
I marched down the steps, my fists curled tight against my sides.
Celeste stood in the foyer, admiring her reflection in the hall mirror. She adjusted the collar of her designer trench coat, completely unbothered.
"Where are my things?" I demanded.
Celeste didn't even turn around. She checked her lipstick, pressing her lips together. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Loria."
"You raided my bedroom." I closed the distance between us. I grabbed her elbow, forcing her to face me. "You stole my ring. You stole my perfume. You stole my life!"
She ripped her arm away, her eyes flashing with sudden fury. "Do not touch me."
"What is all this screaming?" Arthur Monroe stomped out of the kitchen. My adoptive father wiped his hands on a dish towel, followed closely by his wife, Martha.
"She took everything Darius gave me," I told Arthur, pointing a shaking finger at my sister. "She stole the ring right out of my drawer while I was at the hospital!"
Arthur crossed his arms. His thick brows pulled together in a harsh scowl. "Watch your tone in my house. Your sister did not steal anything."
"She is wearing my engagement ring!"
"It belongs to her," Martha snapped. She set a stack of mail on the console table and shot me a look of pure disgust. "You ungrateful girl. We took you in when you had absolutely nothing. We fed you. Clothed you. Put a roof over your head. And this is how you repay us? By trying to sabotage your sister's future?"
"Sabotage?" A harsh, dry laugh scraped my throat. The sound surprised even me. I wasn't crying. I was furious. "I spent three months nursing him back to health. I saved his life!"
"And you got a nice little fantasy out of it," Celeste sneered. She stepped closer, invading my space. "But playtime is over, Loria."
"He proposed to me."
"He proposed to a voice in the dark," Celeste corrected. She tapped a perfectly manicured nail against my collarbone. "He was confused. Brain-damaged. You took advantage of a vulnerable man."
"I loved him!"
"You do not even know him." Celeste crossed her arms, a triumphant smirk twisting her lips. "Darius and I were engaged long before his car wrapped around that tree."
The floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "What?"
"Did you really think a billionaire just fell into your lap?" Celeste mocked, tilting her head. "Our families arranged the match last year. The crash gave him amnesia. It gave you a convenient little window to play house. But he is awake now. He has his memory back. He knows who he really belongs with."
"He didn't recognize your voice," I argued, my tone dropping to a harsh whisper. "He knew my songs. He knew my touch."
"He knows my face," Celeste shot back.
She reached out, her fingers hovering inches from the thick mesh veil covering the left side of my face. I flinched backward, my shoulders hitting the wall.
She smiled, dropping her hand. "Exactly. You hide in the shadows because you know the truth. You are a monster, Loria."
"Stop it," I whispered.
"You stayed by his bed because he was blind," Celeste pushed, her voice laced with venom. "It was the only way a man like Darius Caldwell would ever let you near him. You knew his eyes were bandaged. You knew he couldn't see your hideous, melted skin."
"That isn't true."
"He would be disgusted by you," Celeste stated coldly. "Now that he has his vision back, one look at that ugly scar and he would run in the other direction. You know it. I know it."
Arthur stepped forward, his massive frame blocking the hallway exit. "You are a charity case, Loria. A lowly, scarred orphan. Stop dreaming of marrying into wealth. You will only embarrass this family."
"Martha, please," I pleaded, turning to the woman who had raised me. "You know how much time I spent at that hospital. You saw me making his meals. You saw me coming home exhausted."
Martha smoothed the front of her expensive blouse, her expression entirely unreadable. "I saw a girl obsessed with a man entirely out of her league. You were playing a dangerous game, Loria. Celeste is simply correcting your mistake."
"You are already an embarrassment," Martha added, adjusting her pearl necklace. "Stay away from Darius. If you ruin this corporate merger for Celeste, I will throw you out on the street myself."
I looked at the three of them. A perfect, flawless family. And me. The outsider they kept around for tax write-offs and free labor.
"He will figure it out," I told them, locking my jaw. "When he realizes you do not know anything about the last three months, he will know you are lying."
"I have your diary, you stupid girl," Celeste laughed, pulling a small leather-bound book from her coat pocket.
My stomach bottomed out. The journal.
She flipped it open, waving the pages in my face. "I know every pathetic detail of his recovery. I know about the thunderstorms. I know about the scar on his shoulder. I know everything."
"Give that back!" I lunged for the book.
Arthur caught my shoulder, shoving me hard against the stair railing. "Go up to your room," he barked. "And stay there until you learn your place."
Pain flared in my spine. I gripped the wooden banister, staring up at the people who were supposed to be my family. They had stripped me of every weapon. They had taken my memories, my ring, my identity.
I felt entirely powerless.
I turned on my heel and walked back up the stairs. Each step felt like lifting lead.
I pushed my bedroom door shut and locked it. My hand slid into my pocket, my fingers brushing the cold metal of the flash drive.
Celeste had my ring. She had my diary.
But she did not know about the footage.
I pulled my battered laptop from under the mattress and flipped it open. The screen flickered to life. I jammed the silver drive into the USB port.
A single video file popped up on the screen.
I clicked play, desperate to see the truth, desperate for proof that Darius had loved me.
The grainy black-and-white hospital footage rolled.
But as the figures on the screen came into focus, the blood drained completely from my face.
