June?

  June, her closest friend with shaggy brown hair.

  June, the shy girl who wore glasses.

  June, with the nerdy look.

  June, who dressed in clothes that resembled a mechanic’s overall, even though sometimes she tried to stop it, but always to no avail.

  June, who had said she didn’t like boys; who wouldn’t date until she was eighteen, next year.

  June, who ate Amelia’s cupcakes and pies the most.

  That June?? Emma thought, a numb feeling washing over her.

  No—perhaps it was some other June, not hers; not her closest friend. June Brazel wouldn’t betray her this way. It was too cruel, too heartless to be true.

  “Emma!!!”

  Emma jerked back into the present at the sound of Amelia’s loud voice. Refocusing on her sister, who now looked a little worried, she couldn’t help but ask the question that had been taunting her relentlessly.

  “Which June?” she asked.

  “June Brazel. Your best friend,” Amelia stated, sighing again as she saw the hurt look cut across her sister’s face for the second time. She knew Emma was finding it hard to believe.

  Hell—it had been hard for her too. She still couldn’t believe that the girl who looked so innocent, whom she thought couldn’t hurt a fly, had turned out to be so wicked and treacherous.

  “But how…? How could she do that?” Emma muttered, more to herself than to her sister, still struggling to accept that June could be so cruel. She had chosen her as her best friend among the girls who thronged around her because she believed she was different.

  The others had been with her for her wealth, her popularity, or her male friends—but not June. Or so she had thought.

  She had met June in her tenth grade.

  June had been a new student, a transfer student actually, who wore glasses and stared at the floor whenever she spoke. Emma hadn’t taken keen notice of her at first—until the day she caught Rob trying to rape the latter at a birthday party.

  She had been a little pressed after taking a few shots of vodka that night and was searching for the restroom when she came across Rob dragging a girl with shaggy brown hair down the hall, toward one of the rooms.

  She had wanted to overlook the scene—until she noticed the girl was the na?ve new student who barely talked to anyone and never smiled. Or…well, she had never seen her smile then. She also knew the girl was either drunk or drugged. There was no way that na?ve girl was in her right senses and willingly staying with Rob the flirt.

  So she had stomped over to them, determined to stop the cruel act, unable to tolerate the sight of a girl being abused or taken advantage of. When she got close, she raised her diamond-studded purse and smacked the oblivious Rob hard on the head.

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  She remembered how he had turned in anger to rebuff whoever dared interrupt him—only to calm immediately when he realized it was her.

  She had asked for June, and he surrendered the drugged girl, her eyes shut like the dead, knowing that refusing might cost his father his job. His father worked at her father’s corporation.

  She had smiled a curt thank-you at the fuming teen before dragging the na?ve girl to the poolside of the mansion. She kept sprinkling water on the girl’s face, until the latter finally opened her eyes.

  Their friendship had begun there—to the surprise and envy of many girls who thought Emma was crazy for choosing a nerd over them, the so-called “high-class bitches.”

  How right they were then… Emma thought. She had included June in everything, even though the brunette had protested back then.

  But now this…

  How the hell had things gone so haywire in just a few days after she left Florida? she thought, tapping her fingers against the bed.

  How had she not noticed the cruelty and two-facedness of her best friend? Had she been blinded by that innocent look and those puppy-brown eyes?

  Her sister claimed her ex and her closest friend had been dating for a month already—how had she not noticed it? Her anger simmered, building steadily.

  “Emma…” Amelia called, almost regretting mentioning June. She didn’t like the look on her sister’s face now. She knew what it meant. She knew Emma could act like a psycho when triggered—especially if it involved her.

  “Emma…” she called again. “Just let it go. I have. I guess people change,” she said, trying to placate her younger sister, even though the betrayal from two people she loved still stung deeply.

  “Well, I can’t,” Emma huffed, her nostrils flaring with anger. “How could she do that to you? To us?” she asked, shaking her head, already plotting ways to pay back the duo who had hurt her sister.

  “You said you caught the fool more than once?” she asked, needing details.

  “Emma…” Amelia warned, not wanting to continue, knowing it would only fuel her sister’s rage.

  “Amelia, please talk,” Emma said flatly.

  “When he came back, I confronted him,” Amelia said quietly. “He denied it at first—until I showed him the chats. He wasn’t happy that I unlocked his phone, but he apologized, saying she had seduced him…” she was saying when Emma cut in.

  “For a month?!!” Emma shouted. “That idiot is a lying freak. So June seduced him for a month while he just stayed there doing nothing?”

  “He must have thought I was stupid,” Amelia said. “But I let it go after he deleted the messages. When I got home, I met the witch. She said she had come to visit—and that she missed me,” she added, her face contorting with disgust as the memory replayed.

  “The audacity…” Emma scoffed. “What did you do then?”

  “Well, since Blaine had already apologized, I smiled like nothing happened and invited her in,” Amelia said.

  “What?!! Amelia, like—seriously…” Emma’s eyes widened at the ridiculous image forming in her head.

  “I know, I know,” Amelia said softly. “But I slapped her later when I caught them smooching at Jared’s party on Monday. I broke up with him yesterday after I caught them having sex in his bedroom.”

  A pause. “Emma… she was so bland, so unremorseful—like she’d done nothing wrong.”

  Tears finally slipped free, flowing the way she’d been holding them back. She had loved him so much.

  Emma watched her sister’s tears fall onto her bedsheets and bit her lip. Her anger threatened to spill over, and she didn’t want that.

  The last time it had, it had landed her on the other side of the world—far away from her sister. She needed to act wisely.

  Rubbing her forehead, an idea formed.

  “Amelia,” she called softly, her heart aching at her sister’s state.

  “I’m booking the next flight. I’m coming home.”