Chapter 2

"Jenna, why aren't you replying to my messages?"

At seven in the morning, Ella's second voice message exploded into my phone. Forty-two seconds.

"Jenna, Ethan didn't sleep well again last night, I'm so worried for him. I know you're busy, you have your own things to handle. But if Ethan can't close this deal---we might have to mortgage the house. Our daughter's kindergarten fees next semester---"

Her voice choked up here.

House, daughter, tuition.

Each keyword precisely stabbing at the two words "family obligation."

Ten years. She used sweetness and cuteness on Ethan White, used misery and pressure on me. Sweet and miserable were her only two frequencies.

I didn't reply.

On the drive to the office, my phone rang again.

Caller ID: Claire Smith.

College roommate, hadn't been in touch for over four years.

"Jenna? Long time no see! Heard you're back in the country?"

"Why'd you think to reach out?"

"Ha, your sister mentioned you at a dinner party a few days ago---"

"What did she say?"

"She said you went abroad because of a broken heart. That you liked her husband Ethan White for ten years, couldn't win him over, and left for abroad in a fit."

My grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Everyone was feeling for you, how hard these years abroad must have been. Your sister even said you're still not married, probably still can't let go."

"Her eyes were red, weren't they?"

"How did you know? Yes! She said the person she feels most sorry for in this life is you. But she also said---she said you've been stubborn since childhood, competing with her over everything, even studying abroad was to prove you're better than her. She said she actually feels bad for you."

Claire's laugh was light.

But every word was like a soft knife.

Ella used the most pitiful posture to write my character for me---a pathetic older sister who failed at chasing a man, left abroad in a huff, worked desperately to prove herself, and still couldn't get married in her thirties.

Six years. Rang the bell at the New York Stock Exchange, market cap nearly ten billion, over five hundred employees globally.

In her mouth, it all amounted to nothing more than "heartbroken woman who ran away and can't get married."

"What else did she say?"

"Said you cried at the airport that day, so heartbreaking---"

"I cried at the airport?"

"Yeah, she---"

"Claire."

"Hm?"

"My flight abroad was at 4 AM. I took a cab to the airport by myself. No one saw me off, no one knew what time I left."

Silence on the other end for two seconds.

"Including Ella. She didn't even know what day I departed, how would she know if I cried or not?"

Claire went quiet.

After a while she asked softly: "So these past few years---"

"Pretty good. The company's been busy."

"Your sister said you opened a small online shop abroad---"

"Not a shop."

I didn't explain further.

"Claire, anything else? I've arrived at the office."

"Oh, okay, then let's meet up sometime? Your sister said she's always wanted to---"

"No thanks. Busy lately."

I hung up. The car pulled into the underground garage.

Engine off.

She cried at the airport. She went abroad because of a broken heart. She still can't let go.

This narrative---how many people had Ella told? At how many dinner parties, with that red-eyed pitiful look, did she reduce my six years to a single sentence about running away?

My phone vibrated. Family group chat.

Ella: [Jenna's been back in the country recently but won't reach out to me. Is she still mad at me...]

Mom: [That's just how she is, don't mind her. If she won't help Ethan, forget it.]

Dad: [Stop talking about it, the most important thing today is Ethan's matter.]

Every message defaulted to Ella's version.

I was the petty, grudge-holding, unmarriageable older sister.

She was forever the kind yet heartbroken little sister.

The elevator arrived. Amy stood at the corridor entrance.

"Good morning, Miss Harris. Starlight Tech's preliminary screening---the investment department added a few attachments, do you want to see them now?"

"Bring them in."

"9:30 meeting time stays the same?"

"Same."

"How should we approach it?"

I walked into the office.

"Follow the rules. Who he is doesn't matter. The project speaks for itself."