2
507words
"Ms. Reynolds, I thought you were smarter than this."
"Did those two lunatics gotten to you as well?"
"What’s so fun about spreading rumors that they’re dead? Fine. Let them stay dead."
"Disgusting!"
After the outburst, Scarlett hung up, turning to Evelyn.
"Ignore them."
"Failed to frame Ethan, so now they fake their deaths for attention?"
“Everyone knows those people are their friends—they’re all in on this lie.”
“For days now, they’ve been blowing up my phone with ‘condolences.’”
“We should have them committed. They clearly need psychological help!”
Still fuming, Scarlett posted a furious status.
[Some people can drop dead for all I care. Stop bothering Ethan!]
Comments flooded in instantly.
Scarlett ignored them, turning her full attention to Ethan.
"Ethan, on’t pay them any mind. Just focus on getting better.”
Evelyn picked up her phone, issuing commands.
"If they love games, freeze their accounts."
"Sell the Southside house too."
"See if they still have time for fake death dramas!"
My spirit recoiled. Hatred surged.
The Southside house was our first home, filled with memories.
We'd sold it once, years ago, when Shaw Industries nearly collapsed due to Evelyn's blunder. We sacrificed it to save her company.
Evelyn had clung to me then, swearing she'd buy it back.
Scarlett tearfully promised Liam forever.
They did buy it back, but kept it in Evelyn's name.
Now it was a threat.
I clenched spectral fists, then sighed. Dead men don't need houses.
We were leaving it all behind anyway.
...
Convinced of our deception, Evelyn listed the house, announcing the sale on her verified social media.
Our famous proposals meant many followed her and Scarlett online.
The listing caused an instant stir.
Dozens offered to buy within days.
After discharge, Ethan moved into a luxury condo Evelyn and Scarlett bought for him.
For him, the sisters abandoned their own home.
Back in Chicago, Ethan started a vlog, leveraging the sisters' fame.
"Sisters! Childhood Friend! Second Chances! Love Triangle!" The combo exploded.
Even faceless, fans ate it up, betting on which sister he'd choose.
He posted cozy "domestic" snippets, fueling fans’ demands for marriage.
Some noticed the sisters often glanced at phones, seemingly waiting.
Comments were drowned out.
"CEO and surgeon? Busy lives!"
"Exactly! With Ethan here, who else matters?"
...
They were waiting for messages.
The house was marital property. Evelyn couldn't sell it alone.
To force the sale, she bombarded my phone with threats, even divorce.
But Liam and I remained silent. Forever silent.
Until one day, as Evelyn cooked for Ethan, the police called.
"Ms. Shaw, Mr. Hayes's remains have been at the station for some time."
"Please come identify them."
Evelyn froze, then scoffed.
"How much did Liam pay you to impersonate officers?"
"I told him, file for divorce or stop this charade!"
She hung up, blocked the number.
Scarlett rushed into the kitchen, frantic.
"Sis, did you... get that call too?"
Seeing Evelyn's stony face, Scarlett shoved her phone forward.
"Someone sent me this... look. Is it... them?"
