Chapter 2
The phone lay on the linoleum, the 911 operator’s voice tinny and distant. Dr. Miller stared at Lila like she’d grown a second head.
I stared too.
Confession? What confession?
Lila stepped further into the room, her heels clicking on the floor. She held my phone up like a trophy.
“Your little cousin here,” she said, her voice sweet as poison, “sent me an email last night. Said she was going to ‘make it look like I hurt her’ so I’d get in trouble and she’d have the scholarship all to herself.”
My heart stopped.
That wasn’t true. I’d never sent any such email.
Dr. Miller bent down, picked up his phone. Muted the call.
“That’s a lie,” I croaked. My throat felt like it was on fire. “I never—”
“Shut up,” Lila snapped. The fake concern was gone. In its place was that same rage from the stairs. “You know you did. You’ve been planning this for weeks.”
The door burst open again. Karen ran in, followed by my mom. Two police officers were right behind them—uniformed, hands on their belts.
Karen threw herself at the officers.
“Arrest her!” she screamed, pointing at me. “That girl is deranged! She attacked my Lila, then threw herself down the stairs to frame her!”
My mom looked from Karen to Lila to me. Her face was white, her eyes wide with confusion.
“Mia?” she said, her voice shaking. “Is that true?”
I felt like I’d been stabbed.
My own mom. Doubting me.
“Mom,” I whispered. “She pushed me. You know she would never—”
“Lila would never hurt a fly!” Karen yelled. She grabbed Lila’s arm, pulled her close. “This is all a game to her! She’s always been jealous of my Lila!”
One of the officers stepped forward. He was older, with gray hair and a scar across his left cheek. His name tag said DET. CARTER.
“Everyone calm down,” he said. His voice was deep, steady. “We’re going to take statements from everyone. Separately.”
He looked at me. His eyes were soft, but sharp. Like he could see right through Lila’s lies.
“First,” he said, “I’d like to speak to the victim alone.”
Karen opened her mouth to argue. The other officer held up a hand.
“Outside,” he said.
Slowly, everyone filed out. My mom hesitated, then squeezed my hand and followed. The door clicked shut.
Det. Carter pulled up the chair Dr. Miller had been sitting in.
“Okay,” he said. “Start from the beginning. Tell me everything.”
I did.
I told him about the scholarship. About Lila’s glares all afternoon. About her cornering me on the porch. The shove. The fall. Waking up. Karen’s lie. Lila’s “confession” email.
He took notes the whole time. Didn’t interrupt. Just nodded.
When I finished, he leaned back in his chair.
“That email Lila has,” he said. “You’re sure you didn’t send it?”
“Positive,” I said. “I don’t even have her email saved in my phone. I blocked her last month after she left me a voicemail saying she’d ‘make me pay.’”
Det. Carter’s eyebrows went up.
“Voicemail?”
I nodded. “I deleted it. I thought she was just being dramatic.”
He was quiet for a minute. Tapped his pen against his notebook.
“Here’s the thing,” he said. “Lila’s story is… detailed. Too detailed. The email has timestamps, specific threats. It looks real at first glance.”
My stomach dropped.
“But,” he continued, “forensics can tell if an email was faked. We can check IP addresses. Metadata. All that stuff.”
He leaned forward again.
“And for what it’s worth? I believe you. Seventeen fractures don’t lie. No one throws themselves down stairs and breaks their own skull just to win an argument.”
Tears burned my eyes again.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He stood up, slipped his notebook into his pocket.
“I’m going to go talk to Lila and Karen,” he said. “Then I’ll have a tech take a look at both your phones. Don’t worry. We’ll get to the truth.”
He walked to the door. Paused, looked back at me.
“One more thing,” he said. “If Lila did this, she’s not going to stop. Not now. So if anything else happens—any calls, any texts, anyone showing up where they shouldn’t—you call me immediately. Day or night.”
He slipped a card onto the table by my bed. His name, his number, scrawled in blue ink.
Then he left.
I lay back against the pillows. My whole body ached. My mom was doubting me. My cousin was trying to send me to jail for a crime I didn’t commit. My life felt like it was falling apart.
I picked up Det. Carter’s card. Ran my finger over his name.
I believed him.
But I also knew Lila.
She was smart. She was ruthless. And she’d been planning this for longer than I thought.
A soft knock on the door. My mom peeked in. Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet.
“Mia,” she said, her voice small. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to doubt you. It’s just… Karen is my sister. And Lila… she’s always been so good at lying.”
She walked to the bed, sat down, took my hand again.
“I talked to the detective,” she said. “He told me about the fractures. About how they don’t match a fall.”
She squeezed my hand. Hard.
“I believe you, baby. I swear to God, I believe you. And I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that girl pays for what she did to you.”
I cried then. Not from pain. From relief.
My mom was on my side.
But as I held her hand, I thought about Lila standing in the doorway, holding my phone, smiling that cold smile.
She wasn’t going to give up.
Not now.
May you like
Not ever.
And I had no idea how far she’d go to make sure I was the one who got punished.
