Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When we got home that night, the house was pitch-black. I wasn’t surprised—Dylan was probably busy with clients. Sure enough, there was a message from him on my phone:

"Something came up. I’ll be home late. Remember to eat."

I didn’t reply. I turned off my phone screen, didn’t turn on the lights, and sat quietly in the dark. Unlike Luna, who loved lively company, I loved the night—its tranquility, the unspoken understanding it brought.

"Ding."

Another message came in. I had few friends, and my mother rarely texted. Besides Dylan, the only other person who might message me was his younger brother, Ethan Harrison.

I was right.

"Want to see photos of my brother being ‘passionate’?"

Two sneering emojis followed.

I didn’t reply. He must have gotten bored, because moments later, he sent a photo. The man in it was Dylan—his cheeks flushed, his arm around a girl whose features were identical to Luna Parker’s. Of course, she looked like me too—except the corners of my eyes turned upward slightly.

Once, when Dylan was drunk, he’d said I looked "enchanting"—different from Luna.

Yes, we were different. But seeing that message, I felt ice-cold, cold sweat soaking my back. There were thousands of women in the world. If I could replace Luna, so could others. The old foxes in the business world would easily find women who looked similar but not identical, just to please him. Everyone knew this was his weakness.

"Buzz, buzz, buzz."

I answered the phone mechanically.

"Hello? Cat got your tongue? Too mad to speak?" Ethan’s casual, lazy voice came through. My lips tasted bitter. I touched my cheek—tears were streaming down.

"No," I said.

Maybe my voice sounded choked up, because Ethan dropped his playful tone. "Don’t cry, Sophia Bennett. That girl isn’t as pretty as you, okay?"

"No... I’m not crying because of that," I said, wiping my tears with the back of my hand—only for more to fall. I didn’t want Ethan to see me like this. I hung up without listening to what else he had to say.

After calming down a little, I had a sudden urge to be willful—to prove that he cared about me, not just Luna.

My heart was a jumble of emotions as I dialed Dylan’s number.

"Hello?"

Thank goodness—a woman’s voice didn’t answer.