"She's our real daughter after all. The company has been under pressure from the Geron family—a marriage alliance could stabilize things. Thankfully, their son doesn't object to meeting her. We'll see which girl's fate favors..."
Outside the study door, Trisha clenched her fists so hard her knuckles went white.
A cruel smile tugged at her lips.
It seemed she'd already made up her mind—whatever she was planning next, it wouldn't be pretty.
Over the next two years, Trisha and Kian changed in ways that made my skin crawl.
They stopped provoking us.
They even began to act friendly.
Kian often chatted warmly with Carmela, saying that once she got into university, he'd personally teach her how to manage the family's business.
Trisha became the picture of a dutiful younger sister—obedient, polite, full of flattery.
On our eighteenth birthday they were unusually generous with gifts and congratulations. Before the banquet began, they suggested a "surprise"—a trip to the mountaintop to watch fireworks. My best friend and I, still naive enough to be curious, climbed into the car and followed them.
But when we arrived at that desolate mountain peak, the night turned cold—and deadly.