(Scarlett’s POV) <fn3488> Th?s chapter is updated by Find~Novel</fn3488>
**75 Point
0
Lily looks up at me, eyes wide. I walk over and kneel beside her, brushing her curls back from her face. She hands me a sprinkle–covered cupcake, her small fingers sticky.
“For you,” she says.
And God, it wrecks me.
I kiss the top of her head. “Thank you, Habibti.”
Behind me, I hear the soft jingle of the bakery bell as the door swings open.
And then closes.
They’re gone.
Just like that.
I don’t cry. Not this time. There’s nothing left in me to mourn.
I sit back at the table with Lily, helping her finish decorating her cupcake. Her little hands keep dropping sprinkles everywhere, but I don’t mind. It’s messy. It’s real. It’s <i>ours</i>.
The past may be burned to the ground, but I’ve still got something worth fighting for.
(Third POV)
The air is warm, thick with the scent of roses and something too sweet–vani maybe, or one of those expensive candles Virginia always insists on lighting.
There are balloons tied around the fence, strings of white and gold lights glowing faintly as the sun sets over the backyard.
“Does this look right?” ir adjusts a bouquet of white orchids for the third time, her hands trembling slightly. Dark circles shadow her eyes, and she’s lost weight since the confrontation at Scarlett’s bakery two weeks ago.
Virginia examines the arrangement with the critical eye of someone who’s finally gotten everything she ever wanted. “It’s perfect, ir. Thank you.”
The words sound sincere enough, but there’s something underneath them. A satisfaction that goes deeper than gratitude for party nning.
< Chapter 124
+25 Points
James emerges from the kitchen carrying a tray of champagne flutes, his movements mechanical. He hasn’t spoken to ir beyond necessary pleasantries since she walked away from his car that day.
Since she retrieved those boxes of Scarlett’s photos from storage and spent the night crying over them in the guest bedroom.
“The caterers will be here in an hour,” he announces to the room in general. “Guest list is confirmed at forty–three people.”
“Forty–three people who actually want to celebrate with me,” Virginia says, smoothing down her silk dress. “Can you imagine? All these years, I dreamed of having a real birthday party with real friends.”
ir forces a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “You deserve to be celebrated.”
“I do, don’t I?” Virginia’sugh is light, musical. “After everything I’ve been through, after all the birthdays I spent alone with foster families who couldn’t care less, I finally get the party! always dreamed of.”
The doorbell chimes, and Virginia’s face lights up like Christmas morning. “That must be the first guest!”
But when James opens the door, it’s not party guests. It’s Jasper, and he looks like hell.
His usually pristine suit is wrinkled, his tie loose around his neck. There’s stubble on his jaw and something hollow in his eyes that wasn’t there a month ago. He’s carrying a bottle of expensive whiskey instead of a proper gift.
“Jasper!” Virginia’s voice rises with genuine delight. “You came!”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he mutters, but his smile doesn’t convey any joy. “Happy birthday, Virginia.”
He leans in to kiss her cheek, and ir catches the smell of alcohol on his breath. It’s not even seven o’clock.
“You’ve been drinking,” Virginia observes, but she doesn’t sound upset. If anything, she looks pleased.
“Pre–gaming.” Jasper holds up the whiskey bottle. “Thought I’d get a head start on the celebrating.”
Over the next hour, guests filter in wearing designer clothes and practiced smiles. Virginia floats between them like a butterfly, eptingpliments and birthday wishes with the grace of someone who’s spent years imagining this exact moment.
<b>+25 </b>Points
There’s Megan from her researchb, bringing stories about her groundbreaking work on gic markers. Tim from the country club, gushing about Virginia’s elegant taste in home
decoration.
And Dr. Rashid, the family physician who’d helped confirm her identity, praising her strength in oveing such a difficult childhood.
Each conversation feeds something hungry in Virginia’s chest. Recognition. Admiration. The kind of attention Scarlett had received effortlessly for twenty–three years.
“You’ve done so well for yourself,” Dr. Rashid tells her as she leads him on a tour of the house. “Your parents must be so proud.”
“They are.” Virginia nces at James and ir, who are standing by the bar looking like they’re attending a funeral instead of a celebration, and there’s actually a mocking sneer on her face as she says, “We’re finally aplete family.”
The words taste sweet on her tongue.
Meanwhile, Jasper has positioned himself in a corner with his whiskey, watching the party like it’s a show being performed for someone else’s benefit. He’s already halfway through the bottle, and the edges of his vision are starting to blur.
“You should eat something,” ir appears beside him, holding a te of appetizers.
“Not hungry.”
“Jasper, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
Heughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Doing what? Drinking at a party? Pretty sure that’s normal behavior.”
“You know what I mean.” ir’s voice drops lower. “This thing with Scarlett-<b>” </b>
“There’s no thing with Scarlett.” The wordse out harsh. “So stop mentioning her name in front of me.” He gets up and sits at the other end of the room, leaving ir worriedly staring at his figure.
He hasn’t spoken more than a few words since the party started.
Every now and then, someone tries to pull him into conversation–a cousin, a friend, a work partner–but they all peel off eventually, retreating with a tight smile and a muttered, “He’s not in the mood.”
As the night grows deeper, he grows more invisible. His eyes flick toward the house. The front porch. The neatly trimmedwn.
< Chapter 124
Everything that should’ve been Scarlett’s.
+25 Points
Theughter from across the yard grates against his skull. Virginia’sugh. High. Effortless.
Fake.
Just like everything else about her.
Jasper rises from the chair, his body swaying slightly from the alcohol. He doesn’t go far- just steps into the shadows along the garden wall, lighting a cigarette with a shaking hand.
His phone is heavy in his pocket. He’s called Scarlett twelve times this week. Sometimes she picks up, sometimes she doesn’t. Either way, he never spoke. Hearing her voice was enough to soothe the ache in his heart.
Thest thing she said to him keep echoing in his ears.
He’s my <i>boyfriend</i><i>. </i><i>My </i><i>new </i><i>life</i>. <i>My </i><i>new </i><i>home</i>.
The words dig into his chest like a knife he can’t pull out.
Taking a shaky drag, he wonders…
<i>When </i><i>will </i><i>this </i><i>be </i><i>over</i>?
Violet Moon
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