chapter 4
The birthday party collapsed on the spot.
What had been planned as Chloe’s moment of triumph turned into a scene of confusion, whispering, shattered pride, and relatives slipping out the door one by one with awkward faces.
Within hours, “the girl who scored 751 on a 750-point exam” was everywhere online.
People joked that whoever had tried to rig the score had been too greedy.
Others said if you were going to fake something, the least you could do was understand basic math.
The investigation moved quickly.
The issue turned out to be with Chloe’s answer sheet. One of her multiple-choice sections had effectively been counted twice in the scan. No one could prove directly that she had altered it herself, but the result was invalid either way.
To ensure fairness, the education board announced that she would be allowed to retake the exam using a backup paper.
Chloe cried, screamed, and demanded that I be made to retake it with her.
No one took that seriously.
So in the end, she had to sit for the retest alone.
And the result was exactly what I expected.
One hundred fifty-seven.
From 751 to 157.
The internet had a field day.
Because if Chloe had truly been the kind of genius she claimed to be, even a bad day wouldn’t have dropped her that low. But Chloe’s real foundation had always been weak. Her earlier scores had hovered around the low three hundreds for years. Then, in the second half of senior year, she had suddenly started ranking first as if some miracle had happened.
Now that miracle was gone.
People dug up old school rankings.
They found mine too.
From freshman year to senior year, my scores had always stayed near the top. Consistent. Real. Earned.
Suddenly the comparisons were everywhere.
“Look at the older sister. That’s an actual top student.”
“So they’re sisters? How did one get 741 and the other 157?”
“Maybe the younger one was never improving. Maybe she was cheating all along.”
The school that had once protected Chloe began distancing itself from her. Teachers who used to praise her turned cold. Classmates who once crowded around her now acted like being seen beside her might stain them.
Our parents couldn’t show their faces without hearing comments.
And Chloe shut herself inside the house.
As for me, I received my admission offer from Northbridge University School of Medicine and went back to my grandmother’s home to spend the rest of the summer with the only person who had ever made me feel wanted.
For a while, I let myself believe it was finally over.
Then, in mid-August, my father called.
“Your mom is sick,” he said. “Come home.”
Something in his tone put me on edge, but I went.
When I got there, Mom looked perfectly healthy.
“You said she was ill,” I said.
Dad looked away. “She’s not. We just… missed you. And Chloe misses you too. She hasn’t been in a good place lately. You should comfort her.”
That was the first thing he said to me after everything.
Not an apology.
Not congratulations.
Not we missed you, come home because you’re our daughter.
Comfort Chloe.
He was strangely soft-spoken that night, almost flattering, and that only made me more uneasy. So before bed, I set my phone on the desk with the camera on, angled toward the room.
I told myself I was probably being paranoid.
I wasn’t.
Sometime after midnight, I woke to the faint sound of zippers and rustling fabric.
My parents and Chloe were in my room, going through my bag.
I reached over and slapped on the light.
“What are you doing?”
Caught in the act, they didn’t even bother pretending for long.
Dad exhaled hard. “Chloe told us everything. As long as you’re there, she can do well. Isn’t that a good thing? You’re her sister. You should help her.”
Mom jumped in immediately. “You’re smart enough that if you repeat senior year once, you can still get into a good college. And if Chloe does well too, then both of you win.”
For a second, I just stared at them.
Then it all clicked.
They hadn’t called me home because they missed me.
They had called me back to force me to repeat a year so Chloe could use me again.
I laughed, and it sounded almost like a sob.
“You really are unbelievable. When I was little, you sent me away because of her. Now you want me to throw away my future because of her too?”
Dad’s face hardened. “Don’t be selfish.”
Mom jabbed a finger toward me. “We raised you all these years, and this is how you repay us?”
That was when Chloe, who had been rummaging through my things, suddenly cried out in delight.
“Found it.”
She held up my admission letter.
Then, right in front of me, she tore it to pieces.
White paper fluttered to the floor like broken wings.
“You think you can leave me behind and go to college alone?” she said. “No way. Now that the letter’s gone, you have no choice. You’re repeating with me. Avery, this is your life. You will always be my stepping stone.”
She looked terrible.
Worse than before. Thin, wild-eyed, hair a mess, something feverish and unstable burning behind her expression.
And I knew, in that moment, that if I openly fought back while all three of them were against me, things could get dangerous fast.
So I did the only smart thing left.
I pretended to break.
I stared at the shredded letter and let my face go blank and defeated. Then I whispered, “Fine.”
Only then did they relax.
Only then did they finally leave.
And when they stepped out, I heard the door lock from the outside.
The second their footsteps faded, I lunged for my phone.
The camera had captured everything.
Every word. Every lie. Every hand reaching into my things. Every rip of the admission letter.
My hands shook as I uploaded the video and then called the police.
About half an hour later, I heard voices in the living room.
“We received a report from Avery Lawson saying she was being held here against her will.”
My father’s answer came smoothly.
“No, officer. Our daughter went out after graduation. She hasn’t come back at all.”
For one horrifying second, I thought they might actually convince them and make the police leave.
So I ran to the bedroom door and pounded on it as hard as I could.
“I’m here! I’m in here!”
There was a scramble outside. Keys. Footsteps. Then the door swung open.
In the hallway, Chloe glared at me with pure hatred.
“So what if you get out?” she hissed. “Your admission letter is gone. You still won’t be able to go to college.”
I looked straight at the officers.
“I want to report more than unlawful confinement. My sister destroyed my university admission notice to stop me from enrolling.”
Chloe laughed sharply. “What proof do you have that I tore it?”
She really believed I had none.
She really thought she could still twist this too.
Dad and Mom rushed in to support her.
“She tore it herself.”
“Yes, we saw it. She was unstable.”
I held up my phone.
“This is the proof.”
For the first time that night, Chloe panicked.
She lunged at me and slammed the phone out of my hand so hard it cracked against the floor.
I looked at her calmly.
“Now you’ve added destruction of evidence.”
Then I smiled.
“Break it if you want. The video is already online.”
She froze.
I could practically see the realization hit her.
“You smashed my phone,” I said, “but unless you can smash every phone in the country, this won’t disappear.”
Under police protection, I walked out of that house.
This time, I did not look back.