Chapter 1

Three days before my wedding, I opened my fiancée's laptop and found a shared spreadsheet.

The title was: *Operation: Prank Aaron Mercer.*

There were five years' worth of entries, all checked off.

A forged medical report saying I had a terminal neurological condition. A stolen scholarship opportunity. A promotion I'd turned down because they convinced me my health was failing. A house I'd transferred into my childhood best friend's name.

Then a new row appeared, typed in real time.

*Fake wedding.*

In a group chat I had never been invited to, my best friend Ryan joked, *How long until Aaron figures out his diagnosis was fake?*

My sister replied, *He's too stupid to figure out anything.*

My fiancée, Chloe, wrote, *Even when he learns the ceremony's fake, he'll just think he's dying and ask Ryan to look after me.*

They were laughing. Every person I'd trusted for years was in that chat, discussing my life as if it were a reality show.

Ryan video-called me moments later, holding up a diamond wedding band.

"Aaron, your ring's stuck on my finger. You don't mind, do you?"

Chloe leaned into the camera. "With your condition, that ring would be wasted on you anyway."

I looked past them. They were at my bachelor-and-bachelorette celebration, surrounded by everyone we knew.

There was no seat for the groom.

"I don't mind," I said.

I meant it. I wouldn't be at the wedding.

After the call, the chat exploded again. Ryan admitted the ring had been sized for him all along. Chloe sent a kissing emoji and told him to check the box on their spreadsheet. They had reached a round number of pranks, which meant another group vacation.

Four tickets. None for me.

Pictures covered the wall: Chloe, Ryan, my sister, and her friends in Iceland, on fishing boats, in beach resorts. I'd been told each trip would be too hard on my health. I remembered crying at home over a travel itinerary I'd planned for us, not knowing someone had uploaded the security-camera footage for the others to enjoy.

Chloe stumbled home at dawn smelling of Ryan's cologne.

"You waited up for me? How sweet."

She set out the odd little pills she'd insisted I take for years, along with a takeout meal full of flavors she knew I hated.

"Don't forget your medicine, Aaron."

I looked toward the hidden camera above the living-room shelves. Everything I said would be turned into entertainment.

I knocked the pills away.

"We're done, Chloe. I'm not playing your game anymore."