It was shortly after my mother had died in a car accident while saving Grandpa Carlos. Out of gratitude, Grandpa took me in and arranged for me to attend the same school as Jameson.
At first, Jameson often looked after me, walking me to and from class. Rumors began to spread, with people teasing that he liked me.
Naively, I allowed myself to develop feelings for him. But the moment he heard the rumors, he wasted no time clearing his name. In front of everyone, he not only denied any connection to me but introduced his girlfriend—Yvette.
The tide turned quickly. Admiring gazes shifted to scornful ones, and the rumors about Jameson liking me were replaced by ridicule that I was nothing but Yvette’s stand-in.
Just when I began to believe it myself, Yvette sought me out.
The moment Yvette arrived, she grabbed my head and shoved me into a filthy pool of water, screaming at me.
“How can someone as lowly as you look like me?”
It wasn’t until years later that I finally understood her hatred. Back then, Jameson, drunk and delirious, had held her tightly—while calling out my name.
From that day, her torment began. She bullied me relentlessly, taking pleasure in humiliating me and capturing every degrading moment in photos. Those photos became her leverage, used to silence me, ensuring I wouldn’t tell anyone about the abuse.
Her reign of terror only ended when Jameson broke up with her. That year, consumed by anger, she left the country.
Shaking, I dragged myself back to the present and lunged for Yvette’s phone. “Delete it!”
She smirked, taunting me. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Feeling desperate now, little stand-in? Don’t worry; I’ve got plenty of pictures of you begging and crying. Want me to show you some?”
I stared at her with cold fury as she laughed openly. “Yvette, I’m not the same Lauren you used to bully. If you dare use those photos to threaten me again, I’ll sue you!”
“Oh, the little beggar has grown some claws, huh? I’m so scared! But guess what? I’m not deleting anything. What can you even do about it?”
Her voice turned cruel, her gaze dripping with contempt. “After all these years, you’re still the same—fit only to grovel at my feet like a dog.”
Ignoring the burning pain in my hand, I rushed forward to grab her phone.