Scarlett hadn't slept. Again.
Brian's statement had gone live just after midnight, and by morning, the world had turned sideways.
She sat cross-legged on the bed, the phone resting in her lap, lit with thousands of words that weren't hers.
"To the person dragged into this, blurred out and silenced—I'm sorry. You were never invisible to me."
He didn't say her name. He didn't need to.
The internet heard it anyway.
At 8:14 a.m., Sadie entered the room holding a slice of leftover pizza and a can of cold soda. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes said enough.
"You're trending."
Scarlett didn't look up. "Of course I am."
Sadie sank onto the end of the bed and handed her the can. "You want me to tell you it's going to blow over?"
"No."
"Good. Because it's not."
Scarlett took a slow sip, then asked, "Camille?"
"She hasn't said a word. Not in her voice, anyway."
Scarlett frowned.
Sadie tossed her phone into her lap. "Here."
It was a video. Camille walking through a glass hallway in slow motion, her coat flawless, her lips tight, her heels echoing softly over a piano track. Her voice layered over the scene, slow and intentional:
"Real ones stay quiet when the noise is loudest."
The caption read:
Healing in public is strength too.
Scarlett closed her eyes.
"She's not trying to stop it," she said. "She's redirecting it."
"She's winning it," Sadie corrected. "You became the scandal. She became the strength."
By noon, Camille's name had reclaimed top trending.
But it didn't last long.
At 3:47 p.m., Camille posted again.
It wasn't dramatic. Just a mirror selfie in warm lighting, her face half hidden behind her phone. Silk robe. Red lipstick. The picture looked effortless.
Except it wasn't.
Because in the far background, just past the bedroom doorway, stood the faint outline of someone else.
A woman.
Long brown hair. Mid-step. Unmistakably Scarlett.
Not clear. Not centered. But enough.
Scarlett saw it at the same time as the rest of the world.
Her heart stopped.
The caption? Simple. Lethal.
I see you, don't I?
Within minutes, it was everywhere.
People slowed the photo down. Zoomed in. Drew circles. Posted comparison shots with Scarlett's wrist, her silhouette from past photos, even her shoes.
And the trend notes?
Brutal.
"So he kissed her after all."
"Is she the reason Camille's been off?"
"Do you think he loves her?"
"I feel so sorry for Camille. She's been so quiet and graceful."
"If I were Camille, I'd burn it all down."
"Camille's mirror has more tea than her PR team."
Scarlett couldn't look away.
It was one thing to be a rumor.
It was another to be a weapon.
Camille hadn't outed her with rage. She'd done it with a whisper and a reflection. A queen's move.
Scarlett felt like her lungs had collapsed.
Sadie hovered by the door. "You okay?"
"No."
"Want to scream into a pillow?"
"I want to disappear."
Sadie crossed the room and sat beside her. "You didn't ask for this. He kissed you. You froze. You didn't deserve to be blurred out and hunted."
"I also didn't deserve to be framed like I stole something."
Sadie squeezed her hand. "Camille's got public favor now. But Brian… Brian gave you honesty."
Scarlett looked down.
"I don't know what to do with that."
"Start by breathing."
But Scarlett didn't breathe. Not really.
She just waited. Quiet. Pulled into herself like a thread being wound too tight.
Until her phone buzzed again.
Brian.
She opened the message with shaky hands.
Come outside.
She blinked.
Another text followed a second later:
Pack a bag. Dress nicely. You have 15 minutes.
The car is waiting.
Scarlett stared at the words.
"What?" Sadie asked.
Scarlett held out her phone.
Sadie read the texts, eyes widening. "Is he serious?"
Scarlett didn't answer.
Sadie stood. "What are you gonna do?"
"I don't know."
"You do."
Scarlett stayed frozen for a beat longer.
Then, quietly: "I think I already decided."
She grabbed a small weekender bag. Her fingers moved on instinct—jeans, a soft sweater, a clean dress, flat shoes. Nothing flashy. Just real.
She brushed her hair, didn't put on makeup. She wanted to look like herself.
The doorbell buzzed downstairs.
Sadie gave her one last look. "You sure?"
Scarlett nodded. "No."
Sadie smiled softly. "That's how you know it's real."
Scarlett walked down the stairs, heart pounding like it might give out. She stepped through the door and into the soft gold light of early evening.
The car was already there.
And leaning against it, hood up, sunglasses on, posture like he'd been waiting his whole life.
He straightened as soon as he saw her.
Scarlett stopped a few feet away.
"You came," he said.
"You asked."
Brian stepped forward. "We don't have to go far. But we have to go now. Just for one night. Just us."
"We're in the middle of a scandal."
"I know."
"People think I'm everything but human right now."
"I don't care."
She stared at him.
"You still want me?" she asked.
"I never stopped."
Scarlett let out a shaky breath.
And then, without another word, she got into the car.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Brian walked around the front and slid in beside her, the city behind them and silence ahead.
He didn't say where they were going.
He didn't have to.
It wasn't about the destination.
It was about finally—finally—choosing each other, even when the world wouldn't.