“You're about to be famous.”
Something inside me snapped. Every last thread of restraint burned away, and before I could think, I stepped forward and slapped Tamara across the face.
The crack echoed through the dorm room.
A welt rose on Tamara's cheek almost instantly. Her teeth clenched, her expression twisting into something feral.
“You have a death wish, Yvette? My boyfriend could make you disappear from this school with a single phone call.”
I let a slow, calm smile touch my lips.
“Then I'll be watching.”
The moment I walked away, I texted Lambert Mason.
【Freeze Tamara Cooley's supplementary credit card. And stop all future sponsorship payments to her.】
You could pour a lifetime of kindness into an ungrateful person and never tame them. So I'd simply take back what was never hers to begin with.
I ignored them after that and left the dorm alone.
I drew a long breath.
The school ran on my family's funding anyway. Worst case, I'd just get reassigned to a different room.
I called our family's attorney next and sent him the audio I'd recorded in the dorm.
A malicious defamation charge would be more than enough to ruin the rest of Tamara Cooley's life.
I wasn't going to let them take one more thing from me.
I started down the stairs, one step at a time.
My hand drifted to my wrist out of habit, reaching for my jade bracelet. My fingers closed around bare skin.
I stopped dead. My heart stuttered.
That bracelet was the last thing my mother left me before she died.
I must have taken it off in the rush and left it in the room.
Cold sweat beaded along my hairline, and a sick, frantic heat spread through my chest.
I turned and ran back up the stairs, back to the dorm, reaching for the handle.
The door was already locked from the inside.
“Tamara, open the door! I left something in there!”
Muffled, contemptuous laughter seeped through the door.
“Oh, so much for your pride. You lasted what, three minutes? Already crawling back to make nice? You were pretty tough when you hit me. Too late now.”
“Born spineless. No wonder older men love her.”
Then a video call from Tamara lit up my screen.
She was standing on my bed, shoes and all, her eyes glinting like a snake sizing up prey.
“Get on your knees and knock your forehead on the ground a hundred times within five minutes. Then maybe I'll think about letting you in to apologize.”
I didn't hesitate for a second. I hung up.
I went downstairs and found the RA.
When the door was forced open, Tamara let out a shriek.
She was on a voice call with her “boyfriend,” cooing “baby” into the phone between every other word.
I didn't spare her a glance. I just started searching, frantic, tearing through every corner for my bracelet.
A fist closed around my hair from behind and yanked. Before I could brace myself, I was shoved hard and sent sprawling to the floor.
My knees cracked against the concrete, white-hot pain searing up my legs.
I didn't look up. I stayed low, eyes locked on the ground, scanning desperately, every nerve screaming to find what my mother had left me.
I searched the entire room by touch, every surface, every gap. Nothing.
Tamara clicked her tongue, savoring the moment.
“You wouldn't happen to be looking for this, would you?”
I raised my head, stiff, slow.
A deep, luminous green bracelet sat quietly on Tamara's wrist.
I drew a breath and forced my voice level.
“Who told you you could touch my things?”
“A bracelet this nice? Don't tell me that old man of yours bought it for you. Could he even afford it? Probably fake.”
I clenched my jaw and lunged for it.
Tamara jerked her arm up high, dangling my mother's bracelet over the hard floor as if she'd let go any second.
I froze. My eyes burned until the edges of my vision went red.
