The Price of Hurt and Betrayal

My fathers old friend had entrusted his daughter to our family.
Her name was Isabella, and she was a whirlwind of social energy, the polar opposite of methe quiet, studious girl who only knew how to bury her nose in books.
My father doted on her as if she were his own. My brothers chauffeured her to every trendy, Instagrammable spot in town and showered her with the latest gadgets.
Even my boyfriend, Sean, the campus heartthrob, would only half-heartedly complain about how clingy and overly affectionate she was. But I saw the way his eyes would drift toward her during every club meeting. It all came to a head at the annual University Gala, when the duet I was supposed to sing with him was suddenly replaced by a four-hand piano piece he was performing with her.
I stared down at the program in my hands, my name neatly crossed out.
Were done, I said, my voice calm.

1
Seans hand froze mid-air. He stared at me, dumbfounded. Before he could even form a word, Isabella, standing just behind him in a white tulle dress that perfectly matched the one I had picked out for our performance, started to tear up.
Joanna, please dont be mad at Sean, she sniffled, her eyes welling up. Its its my fault. I just wanted to perform at the Gala so badly, and Sean only agreed because he felt sorry for me
I ignored her, my gaze fixed on Sean.
I said, were over.
Seans brow furrowed in annoyance. Joanna, stop making a scene. Its just one song. Is it really that big of a deal?
Bella is new here, and its her first Gala. Whats wrong with me, as an upperclassman, helping her out? he said, his voice rising. I know you can be boring and quiet, but since when did you become so petty?
I looked at him, said nothing more, and walked off the stage.
The auditorium was buzzing with noise; no one in the roaring crowd noticed the small drama unfolding in the wings. I tossed the obsolete program into a trash can and walked out of the building, pulling out my phone to send Sean one last message.
I wasnt asking. I was telling you. Were broken up.
When I got home, the living room was ablaze with light.
My father, my older brother Chris, and my middle brother Mark were all gathered around the TV with Isabella, watching a live stream of the Gala. On screen, Sean and Isabella were playing their piano duet. The melody was beautiful, and I had to admit, they looked good together.
Wow, our Bella is just so talented! That was incredible! Chris was the first to applaud.
Yeah, a lot better than some people who just mope around with their books all day, Mark added, shooting a pointed look in my direction.
My fathers gaze shifted from the screen to me, cold and appraising. Why didnt you come home with Sean?
I slipped off my shoes, my voice flat. We broke up.
The room fell silent.
Isabella was the first to her feet, rushing over to me with tears streaming down her face. Joanna, Im so sorry, its all my fault! Please dont break up with Sean Ill go explain everything to him right now!
My fathers face darkened, and he struck the floor with his cane. Enough of this nonsense! Joanna, youre an adult. Why are you being so childish?
Isabella is your guest, practically a little sister. Sean was right to look out for her. As the older sister, you should be gracious, not throwing a tantrum over something so trivial. Where are your manners?
I lifted my head and met his gaze, my own expression unreadable. My manners? My mother taught me one thing before she died: never let anyone make you feel small.
With that, I turned and walked upstairs to my room to pack.
A few minutes later, my door creaked open. Chris was leaning against the frame, a smirk on his face.
Whats this, Joanna? Running away from home? You think youre three years old again?
I continued folding my clothes into a suitcase, ignoring him.
Alright, thats enough. Go downstairs, apologize to Dad, and we can all forget this happened, he said, his tone condescending. Bella is a guest, and shes the daughter of Dads dear friend. Were supposed to treat her well. Why cant you just accept her?
Its not her I cant accept. I paused, looking up at him. Its all of you.
The smirk vanished from his face.
I zipped up my suitcase and walked past him without another word.
Downstairs, Mark blocked my path to the door. Joanna, what is wrong with you? Do you really have to make everything so ugly?
I glanced at him, then at my father, whose face was a thundercloud on the sofa, and finally at Isabella, who was weeping silently beside him.
Im tired, I said. Im tired of playing the part of the understanding, generous, and mature daughter and sister. Im done.
I pushed past Mark, pulled the front door open, and walked out into the night without looking back.
Behind me, I heard my fathers furious roar.
If you walk out that door today, dont you ever bother coming back!
I didnt break my stride, disappearing into the darkness.
They all thought I was just throwing a fit. They thought Id come crawling back as soon as I ran out of money and had nowhere to stay.
They had seriously miscalculated.

2
I took a taxi to a luxury high-rise and rode the elevator to the penthouse apartment.
The door unlocked with my fingerprint.
It was an eighteenth birthday present from my mother. My sweet Joanna, she had said, I want you to always have your own strength, your own way out.
No one knew about this place but her and me.
I dropped my suitcase, poured myself a glass of water, and stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out at the glittering cityscape. My phone had been vibrating nonstop in my pocket. I pulled it out. Missed calls from my father, my brothers, and dozens from Sean.
I switched it to airplane mode, cutting them all off.
The next morning, I went to the universitys administrative office to change my status from a resident student to a commuter. My academic advisor was surprised but approved the request.
As I was leaving her office, I ran straight into Sean.
He looked like he hadnt slept. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and he was still wearing yesterdays wrinkled suit. The moment he saw me, he lunged forward and grabbed my wrist.
Joanna, why werent you answering my calls? Do you have any idea how worried I was? Ive been looking for you all night! he yelled, his voice laced with suppressed fury. Students in the hallway turned to stare.
I tried to wrench my arm free, but his grip only tightened.
What the hell is your problem? Theres nothing going on between me and Isabella! I just felt sorry for her. Shes new, she doesnt have any friends she was all alone!
I already yelled at her, and she knows she was wrong. Just come back with me so we can talk this out. Please, lets not break up.
I looked at him and almost laughed. Sean, you think Isabella is the problem here?
He stared at me, confused. Isnt she?
The problem is that you chose her over me, I said, my voice cold and steady. You gave away the performance I spent two months preparing. And when I needed you to have my back, you called me boring and petty. So, no. Were finished.
Sean looked lost, wanting to say something, anything, to fix it, but the words wouldnt come. Joanna I
Let her go.
A cool, level voice cut in from the side. We both turned.
It was Gavin Prescott.
He was a big deal on campusStudent Council President and heir to a ridiculously powerful family. He was half a head taller than Sean, and his brow was slightly furrowed as he looked at Seans hand clamped around my wrist.
Sean obviously knew who he was. His face darkened, but he refused to let go. This is between my girlfriend and me. It has nothing to do with you.
Gavin didnt reply immediately. His gaze met mine for a second, calm but so perceptive it felt like he could see right through the tough exterior I was trying to maintain. Then he turned back to Sean, and his expression turned to ice, laced with contempt. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture.
He dangled the phone casually. Tsk, tsk. Fresh material for the campus gossip forum, dont you think? Campus Heartthrob Gets Physical with Ex. Im sure theyd love a post about the guy who can only solve relationship problems with brute force.
Seans face went from dark to crimson. He shot me a venomous glare before finally, reluctantly, releasing my wrist.
Youll regret this, Joanna! he spat, then stormed off.
I rubbed my reddened skin and murmured a thank you to Gavin.
He pocketed his phone, his eyes lingering on my face for a moment. That was a sudden partner swap for your performance yesterday.
I nodded, offering a brittle smile. Yeah, it was a real surprise.
He didn't press for details. Be safe, living off-campus by yourself, was all he said before turning and walking away, leaving me with the image of his tall, straight back.
I watched him go, a strange feeling stirring in my chest. We barely knew each other, having only spoken a few times in project meetings, yet he kept stepping in to help me. He was a man who lived in the clouds, yet somehow, he didn't feel as distant as Id always imagined.

3
With no classes in the afternoon, I went to a bank downtown.
I had two accounts. One was a supplementary credit card my father gave me, where he deposited my monthly allowance.
The other was from my mother.
Just as I walked into the VIP wealth management office, the bank manager called.
Miss Vance, your father just called to freeze your supplementary credit card, the one ending in 8888.
I wasnt surprised. It was his classic movecut off my finances, assuming Id come crawling back.
I know.
And the other account?
The managers tone became instantly deferential. Miss Vance, the platinum card your mother left you has the highest level of security. No one but you can access it. The current balance is
He quoted a number with so many zeroes I could live comfortably for the rest of my life.
Okay, thank you.
After the call, I transferred a large sum from the platinum card to my regular savings account.
Walking out of the bank, I saw a text from my brother, Mark.
Dad canceled your card. If youre out of money, just come home and apologize. Dont be so stubborn.
So annoying.
That evening, Isabella sent me a message on WhatsApp.
Joanna, please dont be angry with your dad and brothers. Theyre just worried about you. Where are you now? I can ask Sean to come and pick you up, okay?
Attached was a photo. It was our living room. The four of themmy father, my brothers, and herwere sitting together eating fruit, looking for all the world like a happy family. Isabella was snuggled up next to my father, beaming.
On the coffee table was an open gift box containing the newest model of a gaming console.
The one Chris had promised to buy for me a few days ago.
Now, it belonged to Isabella.
A small, bitter smile touched my lips. I typed back a reply: Thanks, but no thanks.
The next day, I went to class as usual.
The moment I walked into the lecture hall, the atmosphere felt off. Everyone was looking at me with strange expressions. My deskmate, a girl I was friendly with, leaned over hesitantly.
Joanna have you seen the campus forum?
I pulled out my phone and opened the app. A trending post with a blazing red title jumped out at me.
MASSIVE DRAMA! Joanna Vance Dumps Campus Heartthrob and Storms Out of Family Home in Jealous Rage Over New Girl!
The post gave a dramatic, blow-by-blow account of the events at the Gala, painting me as a jealous, petty, and unreasonable villain. Isabella was the innocent, pitiful, and lovable victim. And Sean? He was the noble good guy, willing to risk his girlfriends wrath to help a family friend in need.
The post included several photos.
One of Isabella crying backstage, her face a mask of sorrow.
One of Sean, looking frantic, on the phone.
And one of me, my back to the camera, walking away with a cold, indifferent posture. The angle was perfect, making me look utterly heartless.
The comments section was already a warzone, with hundreds of replies.
I always knew Joanna Vance was stuck-up. Turns out shes a monster in private.
Damn, poor Sean. He really dodged a bullet with that one.
I feel so bad for Isabella. She just got here and shes already being bullied.
I heard shes living with the Vance family. Thats gotta be awkward now. Joannas probably making her life hell.
My deskmate whispered, Joanna, maybe you should post a reply? You cant just let them say all this stuff about you.
My nails dug into my palms. For a second, I wanted to find whoever wrote that post and tear them apart for twisting the truth. But the surge of rage quickly faded, leaving behind a numb, hollow wasteland.
I put my phone away, my voice flat. Theres nothing to explain.
The truth didnt matter. People would only believe what they wanted to believe.
And I had a pretty good idea who was behind the post. Who else would have those perfectly timed, candid photos but Isabella herself?

4
The story spread like wildfire.
By the afternoon, my reputation as the campus ice queen bitch was cemented. Everywhere I went, I felt eyes on me, heard whispers behind my back. Students who used to greet me now actively avoided me. One of Seans friends even had the nerve to walk up to me and say, You know, Joanna, you shouldnt be so selfish. Learn to forgive and forget.
I couldnt be bothered with these flies.
It was Gavin who surprised me. I ran into him again outside the library, and he actually asked, That forum post. Do you need help getting it taken down?
His tone was as neutral as ever, but I could hear a hint of concern.
No, its fine. Let the clowns have their circus.
He gave me a long, searching look but didnt push it. By the way, he said, changing the subject, Im putting together a project team for a thesis on the Digital Preservation of Urban Cultural Heritage. I still need someone to lead data consolidation and analysis. Are you interested?
I was taken aback. I knew about the project; it was a major university-backed initiative, and only the top students from each department were invited to join.
Why me?
Because you have the best grades and the clearest analytical mind, Gavin said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Ive read all your past papers and reports.
I never imagined he would have paid any attention to my work.
Okay, I said. Im in.
I needed something to distract me, something to pour my energy into. This project was the perfect opportunity.
The following weeks were a blur of library sessions and project meetings. My father and brothers, realizing their cold shoulder treatment wasn't working, switched tactics. Chris started spamming his social media with pictures of him and Isabella. One day they were at Disneyland, the next they were skiing, and the day after that they were on a flight to some tropical island. His captions were always the same: So glad to have a sister. A man with a sister is a king.
Mark was more direct. He changed his profile picture to a smiling selfie of himself and Isabella.
They thought this would make me jealous, make me regret leaving.
I simply muted their accounts. Eye-roll.
Then, one afternoon, I got a frantic call from our familys housekeeper, Mrs. Gable.
Miss Joanna, you have to come back, quickly! The piano the one your mother left you your father is giving it away!
My world screeched to a halt.
That piano was a gift from my mother for my tenth birthday. It was one of the few, precious things I had left of her.
I hung up and hailed the first taxi I saw, my heart pounding in my chest the entire way home.
When I arrived, I saw movers carrying the white grand piano out of the house.
In that instant, all the blood rushed to my head. My eyes burned, but I clenched my jaw, refusing to let the tears fall.
Isabella was standing nearby, directing them with a look of faux concern. Careful now, dont scratch it its very valuable
She saw me and flinched, a flicker of panic in her eyes, before quickly composing her face back into its usual angelic mask. Joanna, youre back! Your father said you dont play this piano anymore, and it was just taking up space. A friend of mine who studies music really needs one, so
Put it down. Now. My voice was low and dangerous.
The movers hesitated, looking at each other.
Isabella bit her lip, her eyes filling with tears again. Joanna, please dont be like this I know it belonged to your mother, but whats the point of having something if its not being used? Isnt it better for it to go somewhere it can be appreciated?
Her twisted logic was exactly what Sean had used when hed stolen my duet.
Appreciated? I let out a cold laugh. Its value, I said, my voice dripping with ice, is that someone like you is unworthy of even touching it.
I pulled out my phone and dialed 911.
Hello? Id like to report a break-in and theft of private property.
The color drained from Isabellas face. Joanna, you you cant call the police! This is our family home!
This is my house, I corrected her. The deed is in my name. All of you are just guests here. I stared directly at her. And that includes you, Isabella. Youre not even a guest. Youre just an intruder.
Before she could argue, my father and brothers rushed out, drawn by the commotion. Just then, a police cruiser pulled up, its lights flashing. Responding to a theft in this wealthy neighborhood was a top priority.
My father saw the police car and his face went black with fury.
Joanna! Are you insane? Why did you call the police?! Un-call them right now! You dont waste their time with family squabbles!
I ignored him and spoke directly to the officer. Officer, this piano was a legacy from my late mother. Its worth over a million dollars. These people are attempting to remove and sell it without my permission.
The officers demeanor immediately turned serious. He began questioning my father and Isabella.
My father was trembling with rage. You ungrateful child! he screamed, pointing a shaking finger at me. I am your father! I dont need your permission to get rid of a piece of furniture!
You do, I said calmly. Because it was my mothers. And you have no right to touch anything in this house that belonged to her. In fact, I added, my voice ringing with cold finality, I am now officially informing all of you that I want you out of my house. You have one week.

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