Elizabeth's POV
The photo Jennifer had slipped into my hand still haunted me.
Her warning—choose carefully, little liar—echoed louder every time I closed my eyes. She was daring me to move, to make a mistake, to expose myself before I was ready.
But I wasn’t that girl anymore.
I wasn’t running, hiding, or waiting for her claws to sink deeper.
Not this time.
I had something she didn’t. Evidence. Proof. Secrets sharp enough to slice through the illusion she wore like a crown. If Jennifer wanted war, then I’d start it on my terms. Quietly. Surgically.
The first name I’d written in my notebook glared back at me: Harper.
I could still hear her laughter from months ago—bright, careless, the kind of sound that made a room warmer. Lately, though, she’d shrunk into shadows. Jennifer had cr
