Reunion of Mint Candies

Caleb’s brow furrowed deeper.

Lowering my head, I let a faint, icy smile curl at the corner of my mouth.

You want to play mind games? Try someone who didn’t crawl out of hell. Consider my presence a favor.

After dinner, I slipped into the bathroom and locked the door.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. A violent cough wracked my body, nearly buckling my knees. Pressing a hand to my mouth, I felt warm liquid seep through my fingers—it splattered into the stark white sink like a scattering of deadly blossoms.

I turned on the tap, watched the blood swirl away, then fished a blister pack of painkillers from my pocket. Two pills, dry-swallowed.

Relief came quickly, that gnawing inside me slowly receding.

In the mirror, a ghost-pale face stared back. *Hang on, Mariah,* I told myself. *This is day one. You have ninety-two left.*

My phone buzzed.

A text from Douglas—my mother’s old classmate, the only person who knew the whole plan.

*“Your mother has locked herself in her room. Won’t eat or drink. I’ve asked community support to check in more often. You… take care of yourself.”*

I stared at those last words until my eyes burned.

*“Understood. Thank you,”* I typed back, then deleted the entire thread.

No traces. Not one.

From today, I am no longer Mariah.

I am the greedy, cold-blooded, perfect heir Caleb has pinned all his hopes on.

And with this identity, I will drag every single one of them down into the hell I’ve prepared.

For my first week in Caleb’s house, I played the perfect country bumpkin.

I gawked at everything with crude curiosity and naked greed. Whenever Caleb tossed a luxury my way, I fawned over it, clutching each item like a lifeline. Settling into the role came with an ease that should have been alarming.

Caleb was pleased. Jessica and her daughter lowered their guard, dismissing me as a money-hungry rube, easily blinded by the glitter.

The opportunity came quickly.

To launch me formally into high society, Caleb decided to host a grand party that weekend—my introduction to everyone.

Naturally, Susan saw her chance.

The day before the party, she did a complete one-eighty, all sugary sweetness. She came to my room carrying a massive gift box.

“Oh, sis, you just got here—you probably don’t have a proper gown, right? I picked this out especially for you. We sisters can’t embarrass Dad at the party.”

Her smile was sweet, harmless. The picture of a thoughtful little sister.

I opened the box. Inside lay a fluorescent pink strapless gown, plastered with cheap rhinestones and gaudy lace. Tacky to the point of offense. Wearing it would make me the laughingstock of the entire evening.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful!” I gasped, feigning delight, and threw my arms around her. “Thank you, little sister! You’re so good to me!”

A flicker of triumph flashed in Susan’s eyes. She patted my hand. “If you like it, you absolutely have to wear it tomorrow.”

The moment she left, my smile vanished.

Pulling out my phone, I texted Douglas.

Soon, I had what I needed.

The night of the party, the house was packed—glittering gowns, the murmur of expensive perfume.

On Caleb’s arm, I descended the staircase in the fluorescent pink monstrosity Susan had so “thoughtfully” chosen. A wave of stunned and mocking glances followed me.

Caleb’s face turned a shade of green. If not for the crowd, he might have exploded on the spot. Jessica looked mortified, shooting a venomous glare at Susan, who was clearly enjoying the spectacle.

There stood Susan among the guests, a proud peacock in an elegant white cocktail dress, basking in the superiority my apparent stupidity afforded her.

She glided over, her voice dripping with false concern. “Sister, you look so… unique today.”

I beamed back with practiced gratitude. “Really? It’s all thanks to the dress you gave me. I love it so much.”