Chapter 5: Face to Face With Myself

“But everyone knows the Caldwell family is behind her,” my agent sighed. “She’s the one Harrison cares about most. Even if she wanted to help, he might not let you off the hook.”

Autumn was in the same hospital, but on the VIP floor. Harrison always gave her the best. When I got to her room, the door opened from inside. A handsome doctor stepped out, looking flustered as he brushed past me. On the messy bed, Autumn’s face was flushed. Seeing my own face for the first time was weird—especially when it looked at me with pure contempt and satisfaction.

The hospital suite was twice the size of mine, with a killer city view. She lounged there like she owned the place, my old face twisted into a smirk.

“Long time no see, Autumn,” she drawled. “Oh wait, I should call you Jenna now.”

“You know who I am?”

She smirked, twirling her hair. “You’re hard to get rid of.”

I gripped the fruit basket tighter.

“What, not happy?” She saw right through me. “You know exactly what my existence means, don’t you? Winners take all. Shouldn’t you be mad at yourself for failing?”

She looked perfectly fine—energetic, even. Only a tiny bandage on the back of her hand.

“He’s too protective,” she caught me staring. “I told him I was fine, just a scratch, but he insisted I stay. He’s terrified something will happen to me.”

“You saw him today, right?” She beamed, still wearing my face. “My brother.”

I pressed my lips together. She only got more excited.

“Just calling him ‘brother’ is too much for you?” she teased. “What if I told you I sometimes call him ‘husband’? Would you lose it?”

“Why are you telling me this?” I kept my tone even.

“Ooh, getting mad?” She sneered. “If you know you’re going to lose, why bother scheming to get close? Do you really love taking what’s not yours?”

Footsteps sounded outside.

“You really want a dramatic reunion with my brother, don’t you? I’ll give you a chance. Say everything to his face—see who he believes.”

As soon as she finished, the door opened. Harrison walked in, tall and lean in a black suit, carrying a thermos. He looked at me, eyes darkening, then turned to his assistant. “How did just anyone get in here?”

With one line, he made our standoff look pointless. I’d always been the loser.

Autumn smiled sweetly. “Harrison.”

He walked over and opened the thermos. “Eat your chicken soup,” he said, softer than he’d ever been with me.

Autumn took the spoon, eating slowly. “Harrison’s chicken soup is the best.”

Chicken soup? My heart skipped as I looked at Harrison. My old body was allergic to chicken—couldn’t touch it. But Harrison loved it, so our family cooked it often. As a kid, I forced myself to eat it so my adoptive parents wouldn’t dislike me. I ate until I broke out in hives, and Harrison found out.

The memory hit hard—sitting at the big oak table, my throat itchy, trying to hide the rash. Harrison’s face, tight with worry, as he realized what was happening. The way he stood up for me, even though I never asked. His voice was sharp: “Why didn’t you say anything?” I wouldn’t explain. He scolded me, saying if I didn’t tell him the truth, he’d hate me. I got so scared I burst into tears. “Harrison, please don’t send me away.”

“Why would I send you away?”

“Because I’m not like you,” I sobbed. “I can’t eat chicken.”

Growing up being shuffled around, I knew too well—being disliked or abandoned could happen for any small reason. Being picky, oversleeping, even laughing too loud. Fate could turn on you at any moment.

After I told him, Harrison hugged me for the first time. From then on, there was never chicken in the house again.

But now, he tucked Autumn’s hair behind her ear so it wouldn’t fall into her soup, watching her with a half-smile. “Like it? I’ll make it again tomorrow.”

Autumn ate a few bites, wiped her mouth, and looked at me. “Harrison, this is Jenna. You know her, right?”

Harrison glanced at me coldly, but didn’t answer.

“What happened today had nothing to do with me,” I said. “I never incited anyone to throw acid.”

He frowned. “If you’re here to apologize, Miss Jensen, please leave.”

Miss Jensen. Just a stranger now.

“Harrison, don’t be so mean,” Autumn pouted, tugging his sleeve. “It was just a misunderstanding. It wasn’t Jenna.”

He looked away, patting her head.

“Harrison, Jenna says she’s jealous that I have such a good brother—she wants one too.”

Autumn clung to his arm, shooting me a look of pure triumph. “Harrison, why don’t you make her your sister too?”

His hand froze on her head. “I only have one sister.”

I was blacklisted. No amount of clarification helped. My work was yanked, endorsements canceled, and I faced massive fines. Nobody had any real proof, but nobody wanted to risk crossing the Caldwell family for me. Meanwhile, Autumn soaked up public sympathy, her new drama exploded, and she landed a luxury brand deal. Everything just fell into place for her, like the universe was writing her a happy ending.

“She really lucked out,” my agent said as she drove me home. “Harrison’s famous for being reserved, but when it comes to her, he goes all out, throwing resources at her like crazy.”

The car jolted over a pothole, and my agent’s voice softened. “You used to be too proud to beg for roles, which I get. But now, you gotta eat. No money, no gigs, no life,” she said. “You need someone to back you. Maybe not a big shot like Harrison, but at least someone who can get you a couple indie films.”

Thunder rolled in the distance. Rain was coming.