I followed her down the quiet hallway. She entered a side room, pulled my blood bag from the cooler, and dropped it into a red biohazard waste container.
I froze, wondering if the lightheadedness was making me see things.
Then laughter drifted from a nearby VIP suite with the door slightly open.
“I honestly can’t believe Chloe fell for it again,” a voice mocked, making my heart stop.
I moved closer and looked inside.
Brendan was lying comfortably on the bed, his hair perfect, with no oxygen tube, injuries, or bandages anywhere.
He scrolled casually through his phone while Mason, Wyatt, and the same fraternity friends who had sobbed on the phone hours earlier surrounded him.
“Which prank are we checking off with this one?” Mason asked while howling with laughter.
Wyatt raised his fingers and counted. “That makes ninety-six.”
The room exploded with laughter, and I felt the ground disappear beneath me.
“The one with the silver bracelet was peak entertainment,” someone recalled with a grin. “We told her Brendan dropped his anniversary gift in the park, so Chloe spent half the night searching through a torrential rainstorm.”
“She ended up collapsing with a high fever the next day,” Wyatt added.
“And yet she still showed up at his apartment asking if the bracelet had been found,” Brendan’s friend chuckled.
More laughter filled the room, turning my stomach.
They remembered convincing me Brendan was comatose after emergency surgery, sending me to a chapel where I spent the entire night praying.
Then they mentioned the false plagiarism accusation during my final semester at university.
I had spent endless hours trying to prove my innocence and ended up missing my own graduation ceremony.
I had always believed those disasters were terrible coincidences or bad luck. Whenever I cried, Brendan told me I was simply too sensitive.
Then one sentence shattered everything.
