Chapter 3

When I arrived at the restaurant, they were already there.

They sat by the window, heads leaned together, looking at the same phone screen.

Chloe was giggling, and Jeffrey had an easy, affectionate smile playing on his lips.

The scene made my eyes sting.

"Rachel's here!" Chloe spotted me first, waving warmly. "Come, sit down!"

"Have you two been waiting long?"

I took the seat next to Jeffrey.

"No, we just got here ourselves."

Jeffrey naturally slid an arm around my waist and kissed my temple.

"Why are you still so pale? Didn't you get enough sleep?"

His touch was warm, loving.

Yet I could feel his palm lingering against my ribs just a little too long.

Measuring me.

"The meds probably haven't worn off yet," I said flatly, locking eyes with him.

Jeffrey's smile faltered for a fraction of a second.

"What meds?" Chloe chimed in, her gaze probing.

"Post-miscarriage recovery pills," I said, looking away. "Jeffrey prescribed them. He said they're good for me."

It was half-truth, half-lie.

Jeffrey had given them to me, but I knew their true effects all too well.

They made me constantly drowsy and weak. They weren't just for recovery.

"Professor Vance is so thoughtful," Chloe sighed, resting her chin on her hand as her eyes lingered on Jeffrey's face. "Whoever marries you must be the happiest woman alive."

Jeffrey didn't correct her. He just smiled politely.

Throughout the meal, Chloe kept sharing stories from the hospital.

Jeffrey listened intently. They looked far more like a couple than we did.

Suddenly, Chloe turned to me.

"I heard you're prepping for your medical licensing exams? If you need study materials, I can lend you mine. Jeffrey put together a whole set for me back then."

"No need," I said evenly. "Jeffrey already prepped a set for me."

"Oh, but that's different." Chloe blinked innocently. "Mine has Jeffrey's handwritten notes. Lots of exclusive clinical insights."

She was blatantly provoking me.

I glanced at Jeffrey, but he was busy cutting his steak, not even looking up.

"Those are old notes. Rachel is better off using updated material."

Midway through dinner, Chloe stood up to use the restroom.

As she pushed her chair back, she bumped into her wine glass, sending red wine splashing all over my dress.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" she gasped. "It was an accident! Rachel, are you okay?"

Jeffrey immediately grabbed a napkin to wipe it away.

Suddenly, his hand froze. He was staring intensely at my lower calf.

I looked down. There was a faint, jagged scar from a childhood fall.

In my memories of last night, the patch of skin bearing that scar had already been stripped and sealed in formaldehyde.

"What is it?" I asked.

Jeffrey snapped out of it, his expression unreadable.

"Nothing. Just remembered that scar of yours. It's unique."

His thumb traced the line of the scar.

The touch was gentle, yet it sent a wave of revulsion down my spine.

"I'm going to clean up," I said, pulling my leg away, and headed toward the restroom.

"Rachel."

Chloe's voice called out from behind me.

I looked up into the mirror and saw her leaning against the doorframe.

"Need something?"

"Just wanted to give you a piece of advice." She smiled coolly. "Some things don't belong to you. Clinging to them is pointless."

"Like what?" I turned to face her.

"Like Jeffrey Vance."

Chloe took two steps closer and dropped her voice to a whisper.

"Why do you think he married you? Because you look like me. You sound like me. You even look like me when you cry."

"You're just my stand-in, you poor, naive thing."

Her words were meant to stab straight into my deepest insecurities.

Instead of breaking down, I let out a dry laugh.

"Really? Then why didn't he just marry you?"

Chloe's face twisted for a split second.

She leaned in close to my ear, her breath icy cold.

"Because he couldn't bear to slice me up into specimens and hang me in the basement to admire."