Bethany 

I carefully turn the key in the lock, making sure not to make a sound. The door creaks softly as it opens, and I slip inside. The house is eerily quiet. It’s only 5.30 pm. Natalie is probably asleep. Mason’s car isn’t here; he might still be at work.

I slip off my shoes and tread lightly up the spiral staircase. The staircase seems endless, winding upward. This house is massive – perhaps too much for their budget. Upstairs, there are four large rooms, each with its own toilet. Downstairs, the office, living room, dining room, an additional room, and the kitchen are arranged in a vast, open layout where nothing feels cramped. No wonder they’re struggling financially while trying too hard to keep up the illusion of wealth.

I pause at the top, listening for any sounds. It’s completely quiet. The master bedroom door is ajar, enough for me to peek in. Natalie lies sprawled across the bed, her face turned toward the window. She’s always slept this way. Our mom made countless attempts to get her to sleep properly and make it more ladylike, but Natalie never listened. No surprise there – when has she ever listened to anyone?

I begin to step back, but then her phone on the nightstand blinks. I take a tentative step closer and glance at the screen. A message from Mason – 'Hey, I'll be a bit late. Stuck with someone here,' I glance at Natalie. She’s in a deep sleep. I look back at the phone, my stomach flipping. The urge to snoop is irresistible. I’ve seen Natalie unlock her phone, and the exact pattern flashes in my mind. I hesitate, fingers gliding over the screen. I know this is wrong. I know I shouldn’t. But before I’ve even fully thought it through, my trembling fingers are unlocking the phone.

Just as the screen lights up, Natalie shifts in bed. My heart leaps in my chest. I freeze, holding my breath. Time seems to stop. When I regain my senses, I dart out of the room, clutching the phone tightly. In the corridor, I press my back against the wall, my heart hammering in my chest. The seconds stretch into eternity. I risk another glance – she’s still asleep. A quiet sigh of relief escapes me as I slip downstairs. Settling on the couch, I unlock the phone. My fingers move quickly, almost instinctively. I begin scrolling through her messages.

Nothing out of the ordinary. All the usual stuff. Love you, miss you, grocery lists, random chatter – nothing interesting.

Then I open the gallery.

And there they are – photo after photo of Natalie and Mason, wrapped in a glossy, perfect world I’m not a part of. Intimate shots that twist my stomach, mixing envy and disgust. I swipe through them, a dull ache forming in my chest. She looks so happy with him, so secure in her perfect little life that it hurts. But what really stings is the way Mason looks at her. He’s so content, so damn happy.

I zoom in on one photo – Mason’s face, perfectly captured. His piercing blue eyes are intense, almost too mesmerizing to take in all at once. I know what that gaze can do. It stirs something deep inside you, beautiful and seductive. I felt it the first time I saw him at Natalie’s birthday party, the first time he looked at me. He was with Lauren, Natalie’s best friend, back then. Mason had a way of drawing attention effortlessly. He was handsome, confident and alluring. I tried to catch his eye, but so did Natalie. And, as always, she won. How foolish I was to think I had a chance to compete with Natalie.

Even after Natalie crossed the line and stole Mason, Lauren forgave her, and they remained friends. ​It was probably a relief for Lauren. She’d told me how Mason became too much for her to bear – the attention, the gossip, and the unasked questions about how she managed to be with him. Eventually, it became too much that she felt completely unworthy. Lauren even thanked Natalie for taking that burden off her shoulders.

Lauren moved on quickly. Too quickly. She found someone else, moved in with him, and got pregnant. But that didn’t last either. He left when he found out about the pregnancy. Now she’s alone, about to give birth in a hospital, with no idea where he’s gone. This whole mess began with Natalie, but Lauren doesn’t blame her at all. Instead, she’s always going on about how lucky she is to have Natalie. But I don’t feel the same way. Because Natalie is selfish – always has been. She will do whatever it takes to get what she wants, and she usually does. And Mason? He was another prize in her collection.

Natalie lives by one rule – treat yourself like a queen, and others will follow. And they do. Everywhere she goes, people admire her and envy her. She commands attention effortlessly. But lately, something has changed. She’s different now – more paranoid and jittery. She thinks someone is stalking her. I’ve heard her say it, and seen her look nervously over her shoulder, even in her home. It’s almost laughable; she thinks the world revolves around her.

I scroll through the gallery again, stopping at another photo. It’s a bathroom selfie. Mason’s arms are wrapped around her waist, his other hand resting lightly on her chest. Their faces are so close that it’s almost electric. I zoom in, tracing the sharp contours of his cheekbones, strong jaw, and full lips. I recall how he often absentmindedly licks his lip during a conversation. It is so intense and incredibly sexy that I could replay that image a hundred times in my head without ever getting bored. I zoom in further, fixating on his lips, and let my imagination run wild.

Suddenly, a faint creak upstairs jolts me from my thoughts. My heart skips a beat. Natalie’s awake. I can’t be here when she comes down, not with her phone in my hands, and certainly not with the stalker she’s so terrified of. I lock the phone, place it on the coffee table, and quietly exit, locking the door behind me.