Page 144 of What Comes Around

It swung open.

Ashley stood there. She didn’t shrink back. Didn’t flinch. She just stared at me with those wide, infuriatingly calm eyes.

“Apple,” she said. “You need to leave.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” I snapped, stepping closer. “You think you can ruin my life and get away with it? You think you can manipulate Knox, manipulate the internet, and now manipulate a DNA test?”

Her brows drew together. “I didn’t do anything to you.”

“Liar.” My voice cracked. “You’ve been sabotaging me since we were kids. You’re obsessed with taking everything that’s mine.”

A shadow moved behind her.

A woman stepped into view, she was tall, broad‑shouldered, dressed in black.

A bodyguard. Of course Ashley had a bodyguard now.

The sight of her only fueled my fury.

“Oh, so now you’re scared of me?” I spat. “You think I’m dangerous? You think I’m the problem?”

Ashley didn’t answer.

But the bodyguard moved.

Subtle at first, then deliberate. She stepped closer, positioning herself just off Ashley’s shoulder, her stance shifting, weight balanced, ready. Her eyes never left me.

And then something clicked in my mind. A spark. A plan.

If this baby wasn’t Knox’s… then I needed another way to make this disaster useful. Another way to turn the narrative. Another way to make Ashley the villain.

I stepped forward.

The bodyguard reacted instantly, moving between us before I could get too close, one arm coming up just enough to stop me without touching, a silent barrier.

“Ma’am,” she said calmly, a warning threaded beneath the word.

I smiled, thin and sharp, and took another step anyway, closing the distance inch by inch until the tension snapped tight between us.

Ashley didn’t move.

That calm expression on her face made something inside me snap.

“You’ve always been jealous of me,” I said loudly.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I was never jealous of you,” she said.

Liar.

I leaned in and then, in the same breath, I let myself fall backward.

I twisted as I went down, turning mid-motion so I hit the ground hard on my stomach, forcing my arms to stay useless at my sides instead of breaking the fall.

Pain exploded through me. The air punched out of my lungs in a sharp, choking gasp, instinct screaming at me to breathe, to move, to fix it.

Then I remembered the plan.

I curled in on myself, clutching my stomach as panic and pain tangled together, and screamed.