Just outside the door, Cathy stayed tucked in close behind Jason, her face flushed, her shoulders shaking like she couldn't quite hold herself together.
"Jason… just drop it," she murmured, fingers catching weakly at his sleeve. Her voice barely carried. "Gracie probably didn't do it on purpose. It could've been an accident."
"An accident?" Jason let out a short, cutting huff. "I don't think that's what happened."
Even as he spoke, he angled his body more protectively in front of her, instinctively blocking her from view. His voice shifted, turning gentle again when he looked down at her. "Don't be scared, Cathy. I've got you. Nobody's going to push you around."
Cathy's gaze fell to the floor, her lashes trembling. "But… Gracie is your actual sister," she remarked, as if the words alone hurt. "I'm just the fake one. If she really hates me that much… I can give the room back."
Jason's jaw tightened immediately. "Why would you even say that?" His tone turned cold again, cutting through the air. "She grew up God knows where. This family took her in, and she should be grateful for it. And now she's been here for a few days and already thinks she can throw a fit and shove you down the stairs?"
His fist came up again, slamming against the door with sharper force this time.
"Gracie, quit pretending you're not in there. Open up!"
He hadn't even finished when the door finally gave way.
Whatever cutting remark Jason had been ready to fire next caught in his throat.
Gracie stood there in the doorway. Hair pulled up high, exposing a face that was eerily steady. Not a trace of fear appeared, no defensive urgency rose up, and none of the fragile, easily rattled version of her came through, leaving only an unnerving calm that felt out of place.
"What is it?" Gracie demanded.
Her tone was empty, almost bored, like his presence didn't even register as important enough to react to.
Jason's temper snapped for no clear reason, his voice sharpening as it rose. "You still dare to act innocent? You shoved Cathy down the stairs!"
Gracie didn't flinch. Her eyes stayed fixed on him. "And where's your evidence?"
That single line hit like a brake slamming. Jason went silent for a beat.
Even Cathy stiffened, a flicker of something unreadable flashing across her face before she could hide it.
Gracie stepped forward anyway, closing the distance just slightly. Her attention shifted past Jason and landed squarely on Cathy.
"You're the one making the claim. So show me proof. Can you prove I actually pushed you?"
A strange, uncomfortable pressure settled over Cathy's chest.
Something about this version of Gracie didn't seem like her.
If this had been before, she would have already been breaking down—tears spilling, panic setting in, scrambling to defend herself in every direction. She would never have just stood there like this, composed and unshaken, asking for evidence instead.
"Gracie…" Cathy's eyes were already glistening, her voice trembling on the edge of collapse. "I know you resent me for taking your place all those years… twenty years. If you just don't push me out, I'll give you anything. The room, I can give you the room. I won't compete with you for Mom, Dad, or even our brothers. Just promise you won't hate me anymore."
Her voice cracked completely on the last word. Tears broke free and slid down her cheeks as her body tilted unsteadily, like she might crumple at any second.
Jason's face soured immediately, rage snapping into place as he stepped forward. "Gracie, take a look at her—this is all your fault. Say sorry to her right this second."
Gracie huffed under her breath, recognizing the exact same tired act playing out once more.
In her previous life, she had been foolish enough to believe it every single time. They had turned that act into a weapon, neatly assigning her the role of the family's permanent villain—as if she had been born to carry it.
Now it only left her feeling coldly irritated.
"Cut the bullshit." Her eyes shifted to Cathy, calm and unwavering. "If you're accusing me of shoving you, then bring evidence. Without it, this is just defamation."
"You!" Jason's temper spiked, his expression hardening further. "Look at her. She can barely stand, and you're still twisting words to get yourself out of this?"
"Getting myself out of it?" Gracie tilted her head slightly, unimpressed. "Fine. Let's call the police and let them decide, then."
As she said it, she pulled her phone out without hesitation.
Cathy's composure shattered. "No—don't call them!" she burst out.
Gracie tilted her head slightly, a faint, almost amused curve touching her lips. "And why exactly not? Afraid of what they might uncover?"
Cathy pressed her lower lip between her teeth, visibly torn. "The Carters aren't some random household. If law enforcement gets involved and word spreads, it'll damage Mom and Dad. It'll damage the company too. Gracie, you're one of us. You can't just lash out to get it off your chest and ignore what it does to the family name."
Letting out a soft sigh, Jason remarked, "Cathy, you're the one who's always worried about the family." He then turned his glare back to Gracie, disgust sharpening his expression. "And you, if you had even half her awareness, you wouldn't have dragged the Carters into this disgrace in the first place."
Gracie didn't respond right away. Her gaze simply moved between them. Then, slowly, she brought her hands together—once, twice—each clap deliberate, edged with mockery.
"Impressive act."
Cathy's expression wavered. "Gracie… what are you even saying?"
"If you're so against involving the police," Gracie stated aloofly, already slipping her phone away. "Then pull up the security footage instead. Isn't there a camera right by the stairs? Retrieve the recording, and we'll settle who's lying."
Jason snapped without thinking, "That camera's been dead for ages!"
The second it left his mouth, he stiffened.
Gracie's attention settled on him. A slight smile tugged at her lips—slow, almost amused, and far too certain.
"Oh, so you knew it was broken. And even knowing that, you still insisted I pushed her. Tell me, Jason… do you actually think for yourself at all? Or does Cathy handle that part for you?"
"Shut your damn mouth!" Jason finally lost it, striding in as he shot his hand toward her like he meant to grab her on the spot. "If you don't apologize right now, you're not getting out of this—"
"Alright." Gracie's interruption landed clean and immediate.
Both Jason and Cathy went still, thrown off by how fast she changed her mind.
"Is this how far you're going—pushing me to take the blame?" A laugh slipped out of her, but there wasn't a trace of warmth in it. "Then sure. I'll take it."
In the next heartbeat, she moved. Her hand shot out and caught Cathy by the hair.
"Ah!"
Cathy didn't even have a second to brace herself before Gracie jerked her forward. Pain ripped through her scalp, and her scream echoed sharply down the corridor.
Jason froze for a split second, and then his voice cracked through the air. "Gracie! Have you lost your fucking mind?"
Gracie didn't even slow down. "Wasn't I already accused of pushing her down the stairs?" She kept pulling Cathy all the way up to the landing at the top of the staircase.
Only then did she glance back at Jason. Her expression was eerily composed—too calm, almost unsettling. "Then I might as well give you something real to blame me for."
Before anyone could react, Gracie shoved Cathy forward, sending her stumbling off balance and crashing down the staircase.
