So that's how it is.

Emily Blair set down her fork, her thoughts swirling in a fresh storm.

No wonder. No wonder Andrew Lane had suddenly grown a conscience and decided to throw her a birthday.

Turns out, he was only doing it to "apologize" on behalf of Isabella Austin.

The honeyed dessert in her hand now tasted like poison.

Emily lost all appetite.

She curled her lips into a cold, mocking smile. "Is that so?"

Isabella Austin offered her an awkward, apologetic smile. "Yes. If there's anything you want, I'll have Andrew get it for you. Think of it as a small gesture from both of us."

"That won't be necessary."

Emily slid her bowl and fork aside and pushed herself up from the table. Facing Isabella and Andrew, her voice was eerily calm.

"I don't need your apology. I don't want it."

She looked straight at Andrew, her tone flat. "Mr. Lane, your apology is far too heavy

for me to accept. I can't eat this meal, and I don't intend to.”

"It's getting late. I'll leave you two to your evening."

Andrew's brow twitched. "Emily, let me have someone drive you home."

Emily acted as though she hadn't heard him at all. She pulled open the door and walked out, her footsteps brisk and determined.

All the way home, Emily cursed Andrew Lane under her breath, over and over.

The day before the school anniversary, Amelia Lane finally decided to grace the halls again, fresh out of the hospital.

But on her very first day back, she cornered Emily right outside the classroom.

Amelia grinned, her smile sharp and taunting. “Emily Blair, I heard Grandpa Kevin finally kicked you out. Is it true?"

Emily stood tall and unflinching. "Move."

Amelia and her posse burst into laughter. “I really thought Grandpa Kevin saw you as family. Turns out, I wasn't even out of the hospital before he tossed you out. That's rich."

"You don't need to pretend you're fine. I know you're hurting."

Emily shot her a cold look, then let out a short, scornful laugh. "What's even funnier is your brother getting stripped down in front of everyone. Have you seen the video? If not, I can send you a copy."

Amelia's face darkened instantly. "Emily Blair, I haven't even started with you, and you're already picking a fight?"

Emily's smile was faint and unbothered. "So, do you want to watch it or not? If you don't, I'll send it to someone else."

Amelia's glare could have cut glass. "Emily Blair!”

Emily's smile barely registered.

Behind Amelia, her friends started whispering, "I heard Emily Blair's hosting the anniversary celebration tomorrow, but her piano performance got replaced. Now it's going to be Amelia's brother and his wife."

Amelia seized the moment, her smile triumphant. "That's right. My brother and his wife are performing for the school. Someone's feeling threatened—desperate to wedge herself in."

"Emily, are you hosting just because of my brother and Isabella?"

Emily met her gaze without a trace of embarrassment. “Yes. That's exactly why. So what?"

It was true. She really had signed up to host because of Isabella Austin.

Amelia shot her a look that said, Just as I thought, then sneered. “Emily Blair, do you always love playing the clown?"

"Emily."

Suddenly, someone called her name from down the hall.

It was Ms. Carter.

No one knew how long she'd been standing there, arms crossed, brow furrowed in a complex mix of anger and concern.

"Emily, come on. We're late for rehearsal."

Without another word, Emily brushed past Amelia's shoulder and strode outside. "Coming."