chapter 6

Finlay thought the debt collectors must have gotten the wrong person. He stood up quickly, trying to smooth things over.

He said, "Maybe you've got the wrong girl. My girlfriend's family is doing just fine. There's no way she'd owe you money."

Aimee immediately stepped in to defend Lydia.

She said, "Exactly. Lydia's dad runs a corporation. Why would she ever need to borrow fifty grand from you?"

Her eyes darted around the table before landing on me. She tilted her head and said slyly, "Maybe it was one of our other roommates who owes you? You should double-check. Lydia would never do that, but I can't say the same for everyone here."

I lowered my gaze, lifted my glass, and pretended to be too focused on drinking water to notice that she was talking about me.

Nobody else seemed to notice that Lydia, who had been sitting all high and mighty a moment ago, now had her head ducked down like a scolded child, shoulders caving in as if she wanted to disappear.

Chris spoke up, his voice calm but cutting. He said, "If they came here looking for money, then they know exactly who borrowed it. Maybe we should hear them out."

The icy tone was enough to shut Aimee and Martha up. They fell silent.

The bald collector slammed his phone on the table and hit play on a video. Then he spat in Lydia's direction.

He said, "Take a good look. That's you holding your ID card and taking out a fifty-thousand loan from our company. Still want to deny it?"

The room went dead quiet. Lydia's voice in the video was crystal clear. There was no way she could talk her way out of it.

Martha grabbed her arm, shaking it in panic. "Lydia, what's going on? Aren't your parents loaded? Why would you even need to borrow money?"

Finlay's face had gone pale. His jaw tightened as he demanded, "Lydia, what the hell is going on? Why are debt collectors showing up here?"

The bald man sneered, "Her parents? Loaded? Please. We already went to see them. They're just factory workers living in a tiny apartment in a run-down complex. When we asked them for the money, they said they don't have a daughter this shameless."

Everyone froze, their shock written all over their wide-eyed faces as they stared at Lydia.

Finally, Lydia snapped.

She shouted at the bald man, "Haven't you said enough? It's only fifty thousand! I told you I'd pay it back, and I will! Did you have to make a scene here?"

We had always known her as sweet and gentle. Watching her lose control like that for the first time left everyone stunned.

Martha, still shaken, whispered, "Lydia, are you in some kind of trouble? Why would you need that much money all of a sudden?"

But Aimee's face had twisted in anger. Realizing she'd been fooled into playing Lydia's loyal sidekick all this time, she couldn't hold it in anymore.

She said, "So you're not from some rich family after all? All that bragging, those flashy posts you put online—were they all fake?"

Aimee ripped off the last bit of Lydia's dignity. Then Lydia lunged at her. In no time, the two girls were clawing and kicking each other in front of everyone.

Lydia fought hard. She drove her foot into Aimee's stomach again and again. Aimee cried out in pain but fought back, yanking the sunglasses off Lydia's face and striking wildly at her.

The moment those sunglasses came off, the entire room gasped.

Lydia's eyelids were so swollen they looked like raw slabs of flesh. The corners of her eyes, where she'd had cosmetic surgery, were inflamed and oozing. With Aimee's blow, thick yellow pus spilled out, streaking down her cheek. It was grotesque.

Finlay, who had just taken a sip of water, spit it all back out in shock. His eyes locked on Lydia's face, horrified.

He called out, "What the hell happened to you?"