The party was almost over.
Guests had started to scatter, the last few lingering near the open bar or taking selfies under the chandelier. Carlyle stood quietly at the edge of the ballroom, her tray long empty. She hadn't seen Lana in a while—Dylan had taken her home after the accident—but her own mind was too clouded to focus on anything else right now.
Not after seeing her again.
Bailey Harrington.
Carlyle let out a shaky breath and stepped out onto the stone terrace, letting the autumn air cool the burning inside her. She rested her elbows on the railing, eyes drifting over the glittering Manhattan skyline.
She hadn't expected it to hurt this much. She'd told herself for years she was over it. That Bailey no longer mattered.
But old wounds didn't stay buried. Especially ones that had never properly healed.
Five Years Ago — Upper East Side
They had been inseparable. Carlyle and Bailey. The Morrison-Harrington duo. Their families attended the same galas, vacationed at the same estates, played in the same snow-dusted gardens every winter.
But it wasn't just social status that bonded them. At one time, they'd genuinely cared for each other.
Carlyle remembered the whispered late-night calls, the stolen macarons from charity banquets, the way Bailey once stood up to a teacher who embarrassed Carlyle in front of the whole class.
She also remembered the night it all shattered.
It was the winter before high school graduation. Bailey had come to Carlyle in tears.
"I think I'm pregnant," she whispered, hands trembling.
Carlyle's heart dropped. "What? With who?"
Bailey's lips parted but didn't answer.
"Bailey, who?"
"…Marcus."
Marcus Ellington. Bailey's older cousin's fiancé. A man ten years older. Engaged. Untouchable.
"You what?" Carlyle gasped.
"I didn't mean to—it was just once," Bailey sobbed. "It was after the Hampton party… we were drunk, and he said—he said he'd break it off with her. But now he won't even talk to me."
Carlyle's head spun. This wasn't just reckless. This was dangerous.
"I need your help, Carly," Bailey said. "Please. I can't tell my parents. I can't tell anyone."
Carlyle kept her promise. She helped Bailey get to a private clinic outside the city. She paid for it using her college fund. She even forged a doctor's note so Bailey could skip school for a few days.
And she never told a soul.
Until Bailey told everyone she had been the one who got pregnant.
The rumor spread like wildfire. And Bailey didn't deny it.
She leaned into it—painted herself as a victim of manipulation, of poor choices. Her parents spun it as a "moment of weakness," and Bailey rebranded herself into a survivor.
Carlyle waited for the truth. A simple correction. An ounce of loyalty.
It never came.
"I had to," Bailey said when Carlyle confronted her. "You're the golden girl, Carly. Everyone already expects me to mess up. But if it came out that I was sleeping with him—my cousin's fiancé? My family would've disowned me."
"So you let them think it was me?" Carlyle asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Bailey's eyes were glassy, but she didn't look away.
"You always had everything. I just… borrowed your perfection. Just for a moment."
That night, Carlyle walked away.
From Bailey. From their world. From the whole sparkling, sickening lie of it all.
Back to Present
Carlyle tightened her jaw and pushed herself off the railing, heading back inside to grab her coat.
That world was behind her now.
She wasn't the girl who stayed silent anymore. She had science. She had control. She had… Lana.
As she slipped into the hallway, a voice called from behind her.
"Well, if it isn't the elusive Morrison."
Bailey.
Carlyle turned, calmly. "Still good at making an entrance, I see."
Bailey gave a slow, sweet smile. "And you're still good at disappearing. You're working for catering now? How delightfully… humble."
"I chose this," Carlyle said coolly. "Not that you'd understand what that means."
Bailey's eyes narrowed. "Still holding a grudge over one mistake?"
"It wasn't a mistake," Carlyle said sharply. "It was a choice. Your choice."
Bailey stepped closer. "You never did understand the cost of loyalty. I did what I had to do."
Carlyle's mouth twisted into something like a smile. "And I did what I had to. I walked away."
Bailey's lips parted, as if she wanted to say something else. But Carlyle didn't give her the chance.
She turned and walked down the hallway, her heels echoing against the marble.
Her hands were shaking, but her spine was straight.
Because this time, she wasn't alone.
She had Lana. And unlike Bailey, she would never betray that trust.