Anastasia's stomach dropped. "M-Matt? What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean, Ana. Jenny broke up with me. How could you?"
His voice was razor-sharp, cutting through her like glass.
Her fingers tightened around the phone as she exchanged a bewildered glance with Rose, who silently mouthed, What?
"Matt, I did nothing—wait, why did she break up with you?" Her voice shook now, fear creeping in.
"Because of YOU!" Matt's yell exploded through the speaker, forcing her to jerk the phone away from her ear. "I go away for three days, and this is what happens!"
Her heart pounded. "Why because of me? I haven't even seen her since that night—"
"Maybe I should send you a picture. Maybe that will refresh your memory," he spat.
A chill slithered down her spine as her phone buzzed with an incoming message. Hands trembling, she tapped on it.
It was a photo of a letter. The words blurred in front of her eyes, bile rising in her throat as she read:
Dear Jenny,
I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this. On the night that Matt got drunk, he made out with someone else. He claimed he thought it was you, but then he kissed the same girl the next day, and things really escalated from there…
I felt bad for not telling you sooner, as I believed he would have told you.
I just thought you should know. Please try not to be too hard on him.
With love, Ana. xxx
Anastasia's breath hitched. "I—what—"
Matt's voice was like a hammer, pounding into her skull. "Yeah. That's what I thought."
"I didn't write this!" she gasped, pulse roaring in her ears.
"It's in your handwriting, Ana."
"That's not possible! I would never—" She staggered back, gripping the edge of the table for support. "Matt, you have to believe me. I didn't do this."
"Only three people knew about that night—me, you, and Britney." His voice was tight with disbelief. "And she doesn't even know where Jenny lives. This showed up in her mailbox, Ana!"
"It had to be Britney," she insisted, but her voice cracked with uncertainty. "Why would I ever do this?"
"That's exactly what I keep asking myself, Ana." His tone dropped, laced with something even worse than anger—disappointment. "Why would my sister betray me like this?"
Her vision blurred. "Matt, please—"
"I can't go back to Jenny's, obviously. I can't go back to my dorm either—I promised my roommate the place for spring break. So, guess what? I have to go back to Dad's and deal with Britney's bullshit. I can handle that. What I can't handle is looking at the person who broke my trust."
His words knocked the breath from her lungs.
"Sean's just as pissed at you as I am," he continued, his voice clipped and cold. "So we agree—you can stay with Rose for the rest of spring break, go back to the university, and do whatever the hell you want. I don't care, as long as you don't come back to the house."
Her mouth went dry. "What?"
"You heard me. And by the way, Dylan's not leaving either. He's getting along great with Dad—who, by the way, is mentoring him for his law major. They're both thrilled, and I'm not letting you ruin our vacation. I'll tell them you had the flu or something. Got it?"
Anastasia stared at the phone, her heart thundering in her chest.
"Oh, hell no." Rose ripped the phone from her grip. "Now you listen here, you self-centred, flap-mouthed, chest-waxing, muscle-headed jerk!"
"Rose, don't—"
"No, I will," she snapped, eyes blazing. "Anastasia has done nothing but love you and look out for you, and this is how you treat her? You're just gonna exile her because of some letter?"
Matt scoffed. "Oh, of course, Rose has to swoop in like a knight in shining armor—"
"I'm not finished!" she barked, cutting him off. "She didn't send that letter, and if you can't see that, you're the biggest asshole alive. So, congratulations, Matt—you just threw away one of the best people in your life. Good luck with that."
She slammed the call dead, practically vibrating with rage.
Anastasia stared at her, stunned.
"I can't believe you just did that," she whispered.
"Believe it." Rose crossed her arms. "I'm not letting anyone treat you like that. There has to be a simple explanation for how Jenny got that letter, and you are not nearly mean enough to do something like that."
Anastasia was happy Rose believed her. But was devastated that her own brother didn't; the very person who was supposed to know her better then anyone.
But how did someone forge her handwriting so perfectly? And why?
Over the next few days, Rose and Anastasia drove to Jenny's house, hoping for a chance to talk. Plead, even.
Jenny refused to see them.
Instead, they were greeted by her furious parents, who threatened to call the police if they didn't leave.
Hopeless.
Anastasia tried calling Matt. No answer. Sean? Nothing.
When Dylan finally picked up, he was distant. Always in a hurry. Always saying, Gotta go.
A gnawing unease settled in her gut.
Despite Rose's protests, she packed up her things and left for her apartment. She needed answers.
The place was empty when she got there. Too quiet. Too cold.
She collapsed onto the couch, staring at the ceiling, the weight of everything crushing her.
How did this happen?
When did everything become so messed up?
Then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
She flinched.
Dylan?
Spring break was ending soon. Maybe he was finally ready to talk.
But then she hesitated.
He had a key.
So why would he knock?
A shiver crawled up her spine. Swallowing, she pushed herself up and forced her feet toward the door.
She cracked it open—
Her breath hitched.
Standing in front of her, eyes dark and unreadable, was another complication in her life—Warren Baxter.