Chapter 4

Moving into the penthouse was a statement.

Brianna couldn't physically follow me there, but her digital stalking intensified.

My private Instagram, which I' d mistakenly thought was secure enough, was clearly still accessible to her, probably through one of the mutuals she' d cultivated.

Every new outfit I posted, every new cafe I visited, a version of it would appear on her public profile days later.

She was relentless, a shadow I couldn't quite shake.

The university's biggest hockey game of the semester was approaching. Liam Walker, the team captain, was playing.

Despite Brianna' s earlier attempts to sabotage things, Liam and I had managed a few casual, friendly conversations. There was definitely an attraction.

I bought a new outfit for the game – a vintage university sweatshirt I' d found at a high-end consignment shop, paired with designer jeans and a specific beanie. Unique, stylish, comfortable.

I posted a quick mirror selfie before heading out.

At the arena, the energy was electric. I found a good seat with some friends.

Then I saw her.

Brianna.

She was wearing the exact same outfit.

Not a cheap knock-off this time. She must have scoured every online reseller and fast-fashion site to replicate it as closely as possible. The sweatshirt was a decent fake, the jeans a similar wash, the beanie identical.

She made a beeline for Liam' s family section, where he usually greeted them before the game.

Skyler Hayes, her new devoted sidekick, was with her, phone already out, probably to document Brianna' s "organic" interaction with Liam.

As Liam skated over to his parents, Brianna practically threw herself in his path, gushing.

"Liam! Oh my god, great game so far!"

He looked surprised, then his eyes flickered past her, to me, then back to her identical outfit. A flicker of confusion, then annoyance, crossed his face.

Skyler, on cue, started loudly saying, "Wow, Ava Miller is such a clout-chaser, even copying Brianna's style to get Liam's attention! So pathetic!"

Several heads turned towards me.

I felt a flush of anger, but I kept my composure.

This was exactly the kind of public drama Brianna thrived on.

I wouldn' t give her the satisfaction of a scene.

But I would escalate.

That night, I started planning.

My family owned a chic art gallery in Boston.

It was time for an "End of Semester" bash.

An exclusive, elaborate party.

And Brianna would definitely hear about it.