Chapter 1: The Day the Story Changed

After Mom died, I used the same tricks the girl everyone called a manipulative sweetheart had used to set her up—and I turned them on my dad.

I watched as everyone online tore him apart. The comments were merciless, popping up faster than I could read. Each angry post or hashtag felt like a new bruise blooming across his reputation. I scrolled and scrolled, my hands shaking, heart racing every time his name trended. It was like watching a car crash you caused but couldn't stop.

I watched him struggle, unable to defend himself. He’d try to post clarifications, fingers fumbling on the keyboard, but the tide was against him. The more he tried to explain, the less anyone wanted to hear it.

I watched him stare at me, eyes wide, searching my face for someone he used to know. Like I was a stranger in his own house, or maybe a ghost of everything he’d done wrong.

I felt both sorrow and a twisted sense of satisfaction. My stomach churned. I told myself he deserved it, but the ache in my chest wouldn’t leave. There was a bitter justice in it, but it stung in places I didn't expect. It's a strange thing, to realize your revenge comes at the cost of something inside you.

He didn’t realize that, after losing Mom—the main character of our family’s story—his own main character glow would eventually fade too. No matter how many people once loved him, there’s no spotlight that lasts forever.

We would all be left to stumble through the ordinary world, just like everyone else. The house was quieter now, filled with the normal, hollow sounds of American suburbia: the hum of the fridge, the distant bark of a neighbor's dog, the soft whir of the AC, and the echo of my own footsteps in the empty hallway.