ZOELLA

My parents divorced when I was nine years old, not because of infidelity or a lack of love. It was one incident that tore us all apart.

Raymond.

The death of my six-months-old brother.

I still remember that day. Mom was exhausted, and Dad offered to watch the baby so she could get some rest. But while holding Raymond, Dad fell asleep… right on top of him.

I remember waking up from the couch and noticing something was wrong. I ran over and shook Dad, yelling that Raymond was underneath him. He wasn’t moving.

I still remember the frantic search for the car keys, the sound of the front door slamming, and Mom's broken sobs when the doctor delivered the news.

“He didn’t make it,” the doctor said. “It happens. It’s an occurrence that sometimes happens with newborns and married couples.” As if those words could make the pain any easier.

Life after Raymond's death was unbearable. There was no fighting. No accusations. Just silence. An unending pit of silence and guilt took over the house. Mom became a shadow of herself, and Dad wore guilt like a second skin. It wasn't his fault. He just wanted to help. He wanted to show Mom he was present, that he was part of Raymond’s life too.

Dad was the one who initiated the divorce. He couldn’t look at Mom anymore. Grief was eating him away, and he said he needed space to make peace with everything. Mom didn’t fight him. She signed the papers without resistance. The court granted her custody of me, and Dad left the house to us. I didn’t see him for months, though he still sent money for my upkeep.

I was ten when Mom met my stepfather. A friend had invited her to an art gala, and that’s where she met him. I remember the roses that started arriving, the handwritten letters, the extravagant gifts, and the color that returned to my mother's face. Her smile became vibrant again, like everything hadn't fallen apart just months before.

“Zoella, I need to tell you something,” she said one day, holding my hands gently. “You’re going to have a new father.”

That was when everything changed.

Suddenly, we were thrust into a world of wealth far greater than what Dad had ever given us. A life filled with luxury and unending fantasy.

Around the same time, Dad wrote back. He apologized for disappearing, explaining he had joined a healing circle to get help, and had met someone new. Before we moved into my stepfather’s home, Mom and Dad met one final time, both looking like their former selves. Happy and alive. They told me they were sorry for being selfish, and Dad promised we’d still spend time together, just the two of us. It was all I had ever wanted.

I was ten when we moved into the Moreau mansion.

And now—I wish we never had.

I still think about Raymond to this day. He would have been fifteen years old.

“Zoella, I’m sorry for keeping this from you… but I had no choice,” Reina said, her voice pulling me out of memory lane. Her eyes were wide, pleading, and beginning to brim with tears.

“Reina, what’s going on?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, my face streaked with tears.

She opened her mouth but hesitated, visibly battling with her words. After a deep breath, she finally forced them out.

“Drake, Matthew, and Angelo… your exes… they were paid by Dad to date you.”

“What?” Mom and I gasped in unison, stunned.

Reina’s voice cracked. “He even paid Drake extra to sleep with you.”

My world splintered before me, collapsing like glass, and soon enough, the tears returned, heavier than before.

Drake. I remembered him vividly. My first boyfriend when I switched schools, when everything felt foreign and I was struggling to fit into this new, lavish world. It was the most perfect highschool love story. I thought he saw the real me. I thought what we had was real. He tattooed my name on his chest, swore it was forever. That night, I gave him everything—my trust, my body—because of that promise.

So it was all a lie?

Every love I had ever known… was a lie?

Matthew was the sweet college guy who studied with me. We called ourselves “Ace Buddies” until we started dating and upgraded the name to “Ace Lovers.” He was my best friend… my person. And now, he was a lie too?

I met Angelo after graduation, during the uncertain phase when I wasn’t ready to start working yet, when I didn’t know where life was taking me. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but he came into my life and made me believe in love again. He made me consider marriage. He would have been the perfect husband.

And now I was supposed to believe he was a lie too?

All the kisses, the thoughtful gifts, the spontaneous dates, the whispered I love yous—was it all just a facade?

My breathing grew ragged. My vision blurred. This can’t be real. It just can’t.

“Dad, please tell me she’s lying.” I turned to face my stepfather, my voice shaking.

“I did it for your best interest,” he said, voice laced with a false softness that only made me feel sicker.

“Liar!” Reina exploded. “If you really loved her, then why did you make Rabin go missing?!”

I jerked my head toward Reina, then whipped back to face him.

“What’s she talking about?” I demanded.

Reina stepped forward, her voice steady but trembling with rage. “Zo… Rabin didn’t go missing on his own. Dad tried to date him. Rabin rejected him… so Dad made him disappear.”

A chill swept through me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. All those times I called and cried, hoping, begging for news about Rabin—he had known. Every time I sobbed in his arms, every time I broke down and he promised to help me find Rabin… he knew. He was the reason Rabin disappeared. And still, he smiled. He said he loved me.

My stomach twisted violently. I couldn't hold it any longer. I turned to the side and vomited onto the floor.

This was the man I had called “Dad” for fifteen good years. A monster wearing the mask of family.

Mom rushed to my side, soothing my back as I emptied out the sickness, and I wondered how she must be feeling inside, knowing that she fell in love with such a cruel person. How was she not collapsing like I was?

When I finally finished, breath ragged and cheeks stained with tears, I turned to Reina.

“You knew…” My voice cracked with betrayal. “You knew all along and you kept this from me. How could you?”

“Zo, please believe me,” Reina pleaded, her face wet with tears. “I didn’t mean to. He kidnapped my husband too. He threatened to do the same to me. Charles and I… we didn’t divorce just like that. It was because of this. I was terrified. I went to the police. I tried to fight him. But he blocked me at every turn. I didn’t know what else to do. I had to follow his instructions.”

My head spun. The room tilted. I felt heady, like I was going to pass out. How can someone be this cruel? This evil?

I turned to Mom, trembling with fury.

“Mom,” I said through clenched teeth as I watched my stepfather, “divorce him. You have to.”

She froze. Her lips parted… then closed again. Finally, a whisper: “I… I can’t.”

Dad smirked.

My heart dropped. I turned to her sharply. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“I signed a prenup,” she said quietly.