Chapter 3: The Face Behind the Mask

At the building entrance, I bumped into an old man pushing a garbage cart, knocking it over. “Sorry, Mr. Grant,” I apologized, helping him clean up. Suddenly, something in the trash caught my eye—my medal. The one I’d just given Madison. Had she accidentally thrown it out?

The sight of it stopped me cold. I reached for the medal, heart pounding. It felt heavier than before, tainted by betrayal.

I picked it up, but what I saw shocked me. The beautiful medal was covered in deep scratches, probably from a knife. The design and words were ruined—completely destroyed.

My hands trembled as I turned it over. The scratches were deliberate—angry, spiteful. I felt a hot surge of anger rising in my chest.

Madison. No one else could have done this.

A cold wave of realization washed over me.

I’d given her something precious, and she’d destroyed it without a second thought.

Clutching the medal, I walked to school, replaying every memory of Madison in my mind. In elementary school, she’d cried to me after I got first place and she only managed twentieth—her mom had yelled at her and called her stupid. She’d asked me to do worse next time, but I couldn’t. My parents already favored my brother, and good grades were my only bargaining chip for better treatment. Madison knew my situation and stopped asking, instead begging me to tutor her. I was happy to help—it was a way to review for myself, too.

I remembered her tears, her pleading voice. I thought I was helping her, but now I wondered if I’d just been feeding her resentment.

Over the years, I’d done everything I could to help her improve. In elementary school, her grades quickly rose with my guidance, stabilizing in the top ten. But during the entrance exam, she choked and did much worse than usual, missing the cutoff for Silver Heights. Her parents paid a hefty fee and scolded her again.

I could still hear the disappointment in her mom’s voice, the way Madison would cling to me afterwards, desperate for reassurance. I always thought I was her lifeline, but maybe I was just a reminder of everything she couldn’t be.

In my previous life, at her request, I’d chosen humanities with her and always sat beside her in class. With my help, her grades improved steadily. I missed the SATs, but Madison, despite another bad performance, still got into a decent college.

I’d sacrificed my own dreams to keep her company.

Looking back, I realized how one-sided our friendship had become.

After I married Mason and my life fell apart, my parents cut me off to protect themselves and my brother. Friends avoided me, but Madison stuck by me, visiting and even sending me money. She shared everything with me, including her relationship with an outstanding senior.

At the time, I thought she was my only true friend. Now, I saw her kindness in a different light—a twisted sort of pity, maybe even triumph.

But now, looking back as an outsider, the little details stood out. She’d always told me her SAT results, even though she knew I’d missed mine. She’d call to share her college life, maybe to show off. While I was stuck with a deadbeat gambler, she’d brag about her successful boyfriend.

Her voice would drip with sympathy, but her words always stung.

I realized now that she’d enjoyed having the upper hand for once.

Those looks of concern and pity—were they really gloating, enjoying my downfall?

Madison had always been jealous of me.

The truth hit me like a punch to the gut.

I’d been blind to her envy, too eager to see the best in her.

Sitting in class, I was furious at my own stupidity. Madison had always worn a mask—I’d never seen her true face, even in death.

I stared at the ruined medal in my hand, vowing that I’d never let anyone use me again.

The teacher came in, and I forced myself to focus. Now, nothing was more important than studying.

No one would stop me this time.

I blocked out everything else, throwing myself into my work.

The numbers and formulas became my armor, shielding me from the pain.

After a day of intense focus, I packed up and left before Madison could find me. Near the school gate, I spotted Mason leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, drawing stares from passing girls. I hid my face behind my bag and slipped out in the crowd, not relaxing until I was far away.

I ducked into a side street, my heart pounding. Why couldn’t they both just leave me alone?

Why was Mason at our school? Was he looking for me? We’d only met twice—surely he hadn’t fallen for me at first sight?

The question gnawed at me.

I knew Mason was persistent, but this felt like more than coincidence.

Suddenly, I remembered something from my past life. Mason had once admitted that his “hero saves the damsel” act in the alley had been planned. He said he’d liked me from the first time he saw me, and everything after—the rescue, the hardworking persona—was all for me. He knew I’d never like him as he was, so he went to great lengths to win me over.

I shivered, recalling the way he’d manipulated every detail.

It was all a game to him—a game I refused to play this time.

But in my past life, our first meeting had been at the arcade, when Madison dragged me over to watch her cousin dance. Later, her cousin invited us to dinner. During the meal, a foreign man struggled to order food, sweating and frustrated. I’d stepped in to help, translating for him. Mason said he fell for me then, seeing my kindness. After that, he learned my interests and planned ways to get close to me.

He’d studied me like a project, collecting data, testing theories.

I felt sick just thinking about it.

But in this life, I’d avoided that first meeting—he’d never seen my “kind side.” Yet he still tried to get close to me, setting up rescues in the alley and with the dog. Clearly, he was still fixated on me.

That meant, whether in my past life or this one, our meeting, our relationship—it was all orchestrated. No matter how things changed, I was always drawn into his web. Someone was pulling the strings.

The realization hit me like a freight train.

I wasn’t just unlucky—I was being targeted.

That someone was Madison.

The first meeting at the arcade—she’d dragged me there. The alley rescue—she’d sent me to buy coffee. How did Mason know I liked hardworking people? She’d told him.

My stomach turned as I pieced it all together.

She’d been feeding him information, setting me up from the start.

In my past life, she was the only one I’d told about my secret relationship with Mason. She’d said she supported me and wished us well, always praising how good he was to me, saying she wanted a sweet romance like mine.

Now, I saw her encouragement for what it was—another layer of manipulation, designed to keep me trapped.

No wonder Mason seemed to know me so well. I’d thought I’d found my soulmate, but he’d had her guidance all along.

Our relationship was the result of her scheming and subtle manipulation.

My hands shook with rage.

I’d trusted her with everything, and she’d used it all against me.

Madison, I never did anything to hurt you—why did you do this to me? By the time I got home, my palms were red from how hard I’d been clenching my fists in anger.

I stared at the ceiling, replaying every conversation, every shared secret. The betrayal cut deeper than I’d ever imagined.

Ring ring—my phone rang. It was Madison. I picked up. “Rachel, where are you? I didn’t see you in class.”

“I left early.”

She snapped, “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I have something to ask you. Meet me at the neighborhood gate.” I hung up.

I paced the sidewalk, adrenaline coursing through me.

I needed answers—I needed closure.

Ten minutes later, Madison came running. “What is it?” she asked. I held out my fist and opened it, showing her the ruined medal. Her eyes went wide, and she stammered, “I’m sorry, Rachel, but it wasn’t me. The neighbor kids did it—they took it when I wasn’t looking. By the time I found it, it was already ruined.”

Her lie was so transparent it almost made me laugh.

I stared her down, refusing to let her off the hook.

“Oh?” I said calmly. “Then let’s go ask them together, face to face.”

“Why do we need to do that?” she shot back. “Don’t you trust me?”

I turned to look her in the eye. “No, I don’t.”

Her face darkened.

She bristled, her hands balling into fists. I could see the mask slipping, her true feelings leaking through.

“Rachel, I can’t believe after all these years, you’d think this of me.” Suddenly, she looked hurt, tears brimming in her eyes. I laughed softly. “Is it really years of friendship, or just you getting close for your own benefit? You were jealous of me, but still wanted my help with schoolwork?”

She flinched, her bottom lip trembling. For a moment, I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

She denied it. “You’re wrong, I never—”

“Was Mason your idea, wasn’t he? You really went all out to ruin me, sending a thug after me.”

“No, I barely know him—”

“I never did anything to hurt you. I tutored you with everything I had. Your grades improved because of me—don’t pretend otherwise. You’re just an ungrateful backstabber—”

“Enough!” she snapped, finally losing control. “So what if you’re smarter than me? What’s there to be proud of? Why does everyone praise you? Why do I always have to play second fiddle, getting trampled by you? I want to destroy you, drag you off your pedestal, stomp you into the ground—that’s the only way I’ll feel better!”

Her words were venomous, each one landing like a slap.

I stared at her, stunned by the depth of her hatred.

“You’re terrifying. You’re insane!” I’d never imagined my friend was like this. Madison glared at me. “You know how annoying you are? My dad would teach me poems, and I’d struggle for hours, but you’d memorize them in a few minutes. The adults all praised you, and my dad even said he wished you were his daughter. In school, you got top grades effortlessly, while I worked myself to death just to be average. The teachers beamed at you and barely remembered my name. Why? Why are you better than everyone else? It’s not fair! Yes, I’m jealous, so what?”

I took a shaky breath, trying to process her confession.

The jealousy, the resentment—it had always been there, simmering beneath the surface.

“So you set Mason on me, hoping to ruin me?” I asked.

“Yes!” she spat. “My cousin’s friends always joked about wanting a pretty Silver Heights girl for a girlfriend—it’d make them look good. I planned to bring you to them, but you ran off at the arcade. Still, we ran into them later. After that, several of them asked about you. The funny thing is, they knew me first, but none of them wanted to chase me. Look at you—pretty, smart, the perfect target for envy.”

She sneered, her voice dripping with malice.

I felt sick, realizing just how calculated her actions had been.

She sneered, “Mason was the one I picked for you—handsome, and with my coaching, he could be the perfect boyfriend for you. Plus, he’s poor. His mom ran off, his dad’s disabled—if you ended up with him, he’d drag you down forever. There were two other guys who wanted you, but I didn’t pick them. Know why? They were rich kids—if you married them, at least you’d be set for life. I didn’t want you to have it easy. Mason was perfect for you. Too bad you didn’t fall for it.”

Her words sent chills through me.

Just jealousy, and she could do this to a childhood friend. She didn’t know that in my past life, her plan had worked. I’d fallen into her trap, ruined my future, and lost my life.

I felt an icy resolve hardening inside me.

I wouldn’t let her win—not this time.

“What are you trying to do? Sabotage my grades? Make me fail the SATs?” I probed.

She laughed coldly. “Sabotage your grades? You’re too talented and hardworking—a romance wouldn’t be enough to drag you down. Even if you did badly this year, you could retake the test and still get into a top school. What I want is to make sure you can’t even take the exam—so you’ll always be a high school grad, stuck beneath me forever.”

So in my past life, missing the exam really was their doing. But even if I missed the exam, what then? Life is full of setbacks—I wasn’t afraid of failure. I believed I could always get back up. But after missing the exam, it felt like an invisible hand kept pushing me down, no matter how hard I tried.

Her ambition was breathtaking in its cruelty.

I wondered how many nights she’d lain awake, plotting my downfall.

Did Madison stop after I failed the exam, or were there more schemes I hadn’t uncovered? I needed to push her further.

“You’re naive if you think you can keep me down forever. If I get the chance, I’ll surpass you again someday!”

“Then I’ll stomp you down so hard you never get up! I’ll lure Mason into doing bad things, get you both into debt you can never repay. You should have a kid early, too—once you’re a mother, you’ll never leave him. That’ll trap you for good.”

Only then did I realize how deep her hatred ran.

She didn’t just want to stop me from taking the exam—she wanted to ruin my life completely.

She was a total psychopath.

I took a step back, suddenly afraid.

I’d never seen this side of her before.

She was a stranger to me now.

“Every night before bed, I dream up these plans, imagining your miserable future. You’ll date a thug, miss the exam, marry and have kids young, crushed by life, while I graduate from a top school and occasionally show up to toss you some charity so you’ll grovel with gratitude. It’s beautiful just thinking about it!”

She smiled darkly.

“Too bad you caught on. You got lucky this time, but you won’t be lucky forever.”

With that, she walked away.

I watched her go, my hands shaking.

I’d lost a friend, but gained a new sense of purpose.

For the next year, I avoided both her and Mason completely. Without my help, Madison’s grades slipped. I heard her parents hired tutors, but it didn’t help much. My own grades stayed in the top two.

I built a wall around myself, focusing on my studies.

Every time I saw Madison in the hallway, I looked right through her.