The Accusation!

How could I?

I didn't even know where my own place was—how dare I try to define anyone else's? She

I don't know where their place was. I needed to find and know where my place was.

I sighed softly, my fingers reaching for the glass of juice in front of me, hoping for some semblance of comfort.

Before I could touch it, Selena's perfectly manicured hand snatched it away. The motion was swift, deliberate.

"Why are you even at this table?"

Her glare bore into me, sharp and unrelenting.

I froze. The question landed like a slap, my pride already too bruised to take another hit.

Selena's disdain burned brighter as she watched me hesitate, feeding off it. I saw it in her eyes—the hatred, the resentment. She didn't just dislike my presence. She loathed it.

What was I doing here, sitting among her friends? Did I think I belonged? Did I plan to steal them too?

The thought alone made her blood boil.

But I couldn't steal anything. Not from her. Not from anyone. I was nobody. I was nothing.

And Selena was determined to remind me of that.

"Selena," I gasped, my voice soft, a small frown tugging at my lips.

Selena folded her arms across her chest, her smirk cold, razor-sharp. "Don't just repeat my name like you're some broken record," she snapped. "Answer me—why did you sit here?"

Because we were family. Because I had thought—hoped—that after all these years apart, Selena might want to connect. The same way I did.

I had been alone in the US. No friends, no real home. I had hoped that coming back would be different.

That maybe Selena could be someone I leaned on.

Someone who might actually care.

But it was obvious now—Selena didn't feel the same.

My gaze dropped to her manicured nails, glittering under the chandelier's light. I stayed silent.

What was the point of answering?

I had no one. No allies. No friends who would take my side. I was alone.

The sting of tears welled up, but I blinked them back furiously.

After tonight, I wouldn't come to another party. Not Selena's. Not anyone's.

I took a shaky breath, forcing down the bitter lump in my throat.

But I have to fit in. This is life.

Yet, as I looked around the room, something settled in my chest. A realization, cold and certain:

Maybe it's not about fitting in. Maybe it's about learning to stand alone.

Esther straightened in her chair, her tone sharp and inquisitive. "Who invited her anyway?"

Selena sniffed dismissively, never taking her eyes off me. "I'd really like to know."

"Who invited you here?"

Because they believed I knew no one. Because they were right.

My shoulders tensed as the question sliced through the air. I forced a weak smile, hoping—praying—they were just joking.

Surely they couldn't mean this.

But the icy stares around the table said otherwise.

Rachel leaned back, her eyes scanning the group as if searching for a culprit. "Why is no one confessing? Who brought her here?"

Sasha scoffed, her voice dripping with mockery. "Did you sneak in, perhaps?"

The question hung in the air, heavy, suffocating. A quiet ripple of unease spread across the table and the nearby guests.

Selena's eyes widened theatrically. "My God, I hope not. The embarrassment to the Blackwood name would be unbearable."

My face paled. My lips trembled. "No, I was invited! I wouldn't just—"

Selena shot to her feet.

The screech of her chair against the floor sliced through the noise, demanding attention.

And she wanted their attention.

"Come on," she declared, glaring down at me. "We need to confirm with security if you were even authorized to be here."

"Selena, stop doing this." My voice was soft, almost pleading.

She grabbed my arm, yanking me upright.

Selena's pout was calculated, her concern just believable enough to fool onlookers. "But we have to be sure. I can't let you make a fool of yourself—or us."

"You're absolutely right," Esther chimed in, her voice laced with urgency. "Someone call security. We need to clear this up immediately."

Anger bubbled inside me, hot and sharp. I shook off Selena's grip, my voice trembling but firm. "What are you doing? Let me go."

But my frustration lacked the force to match hers.

Selena tightened her hold and dragged me toward the entrance. A small but eager crowd followed, hungry for the drama unfolding before them.

Then—

"Ma'am, what's going on here?"

A security guard jogged over, cutting off our movement. His expression was unreadable, but I could tell—he was already irritated.

Rachel jumped in before anyone else could speak. "She's here illegally!"

The guard's brow furrowed. His gaze landed on me. "Ma'am, no one can enter this hall without an invitation. That's strictly enforced."

Rachel gasped, offended. "Who do you think you are to speak to us like that?"

"What a brute," Selena sneered.

The guard ignored them. His tone was firm, professional. "I'm here to ensure order, and causing a scene at someone's party isn't acceptable."

Selena's fingers tightened on my arm.

But I seized the moment.

I yanked myself free.

I couldn't take any more.

I needed to get out of this place. Away from the humiliation. The suffocating whispers. The judging stares.

"Please return to your seats," the guard continued, his voice cutting through the chaos. "The party hasn't even started yet."

Selena seethed.

But I didn't wait for her reaction.

The sting of tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

Not here. Not now.

I turned to leave.

"Excuse me," I murmured, reaching for my purse, my fingers trembling.

I clutched it tightly and stepped away from the table.

My movements were deliberate, graceful even. But inside, I was breaking.

Look at her, they whispered. Look at her.

Every pair of eyes followed me.

I felt them all—contemptuous stares, amused smirks, quiet snickers. But I kept walking, my heart pounding with every step toward freedom.

Then—

Just as I reached the edge of the hall—

A foot jutted out.

Too quick to see.

I stumbled.