Chapter 3

By the time I got back to the apartment, it was already bright outside.

The moment I opened the door, my parents came rushing out of the kitchen, their faces plastered with fawning smiles as they shouted:

"My darling Stella! You're finally back! How did it go last night? Did it work?"

When they saw my face, their smiles instantly froze. The joy in their eyes turned to undisguised disgust.

"Clara? Why is it you? Where's your sister?"

My mom shoved me aside, craning her neck to look behind me. When she didn't see Stella, she immediately started shrieking:

"I told you to look after your sister! Why did you come back alone? What are you trying to pull?"

I couldn't be bothered to argue with her. I changed my shoes and headed toward my room, tossing out coldly:

"I'm here to pack my things. I'm moving to the campus dorms."

"Moving to the dorms?" My mom chased after me, her face twisted with rage.

"Dorms aren't free, you know! Where's a student like you going to get money for housing fees? All you ever do is spend the family's money!"

I stopped walking and turned to look at her.

"If Stella really does become the young mistress of the Hale family, what happens when the Hales see me—her identical twin sister? What if they can't tell us apart? If you don't want me ruining things for her, then don't stop me from moving out."

That hit them right where it hurt.

They exchanged a look, then immediately waved me off with disgust, telling me to get lost.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth but said nothing more.

My tiny back room was dark and cramped, while Stella's room had its own private balcony, filled with designer bags and makeup.

All because some fortune teller once said I was a debt collector come to torment the family, while my sister was here to repay past kindness. So despite being identical twins, we lived completely different lives.

As I was dragging my suitcase downstairs, I ran right into Stella limping back home.

Her dress was torn and stretched out of shape. Her neck and collarbone were covered in purple bruises. Her legs trembled as she walked. But her face wore a triumphant smile, as if those marks were her ticket into high society.

Seeing me with my suitcase, she raised an eyebrow and sneered:

"Oh, you're moving out? Smart of you. Now that Kael and I are together, you'd just be an eyesore."

I ignored her and kept walking.

My parents immediately swarmed around her. Stella flipped her hair, blushing coyly as she told them how gentle Kael had been with her last night, how she was the only one who could soothe his condition—basically grafting every werewolf novel trope onto herself.

I stood at the doorway, listening, and almost laughed.

She had no idea what had actually happened after she passed out.

Stella suddenly called out to me, her eyes turning cold:

"Clara, fine, you don't have to move. But your phone stays on 24/7, and when I call, you pick up within three seconds."

"If you don't cooperate, I'll have Mom and Dad cut off your tuition."

She waved her phone around, then snapped several photos of the bruises on her neck, smiling sweetly.

My parents hovered around her, calling her "the future Mrs. Hale" over and over, as if she'd already ascended to the heavens.

I said nothing more. I opened the door and walked out without looking back.

But I never imagined their madness would go this far.

That very night, Stella called me. She said she was about to marry Kael and become a billionaire's wife, so she needed a new luxury car. She told me to marry some sixty-year-old man and get some money to contribute to the family.

I coldly refused. The phone immediately erupted with my mother's screaming, and then they showed up at my dorm.

In the dormitory lobby, my mom slapped me across the face.

"If you don't marry Mr. Williams, where's Stella supposed to get money for her new car? Having a small business owner willing to marry you is already your good fortune. Hurry up and marry him while you're still young—contribute something to this family."

I looked at these two people who were supposed to be my parents, and the last shred of hope in my heart shattered completely.

"I'm your daughter too. Doesn't my happiness matter? Why should I marry a sixty-year-old man for Stella's sake?"

"If you didn't want me that badly, why didn't you just strangle me at birth?"

My mom looked at me coldly, her words stabbing into my heart like ice picks:

"If your sister hadn't cried and begged us to keep you, you would have been thrown away long ago!"

I wiped away my tears, my gaze cold as ice.

"I won't marry him. If you want money, figure it out yourselves. You don't like me? Fine. I'll leave."

I turned and went back to my dorm. That night, I drafted an agreement to sever all parental ties. The next day, I had them sign it.

They didn't even read it. They just figured me—the debt collector—voluntarily cutting ties with the family would only clear the path for Stella's high-society future. They signed their names with a flourish.

Holding the signed agreement, I felt nothing but calm.

In this second life, I had finally drawn a line between myself and that bloodsucking family.