Page 107 of What Goes Around

The assistants returned, refocusing on my hair and makeup. I let them work as my thoughts drifted.

I hated Ashley.

Not the shallow kind of hate. This was deeper. The kind that settles in your bones.

It should have been her.

That day. That store. That man.

Not me.

I’d hated her before, her stupid talent, the way teachers softened when she played piano, how Dad’s gaze lingered on her like she was something special.

But after that day in Walmart, it became something else entirely.

If fate had any sense of justice, it would’ve taken her instead.

But it hadn’t. It had taken me.

I never forgave her for surviving untouched.

So I took things back.

Little by little. Friends. Attention. Moments. Opportunities.

Anything she loved, I learned how to ruin quietly.

She never noticed until it was too late. She believed I was kind. She believed in me.

That was the funniest part.

Anton had been the last real win.

I knew she liked him. Of course I did. I always knew what she cared about. It had been easy. A spiked drink. A suggestion. People were always eager to make bad decisions if you just opened the door for them.

I had expected tears. Humiliation. Some satisfying collapse.

Instead… nothing.

She changed. Acted like she suddenly saw through me.

Impossible.

But still… unsettling.

A dress assistant stepped in front of me, breaking the mental spiral.

“This is yours,” she said, lifting a dress from the rack.

White lace. Knee-length. Elegant. Expensive. The kind of dress people remembered. The kind that said innocent and important in the same breath.

Perfect.

Heels followed, high enough to give me a few extra inches. Five-three was never enough..

Mom returned then, all brightness again.

“How’s everything going?”