Tifani didn't like my statement to the media at all,nor did my parents,which gave Tifani an perfect opportunity to throw me under the bus. The moment we got home, she wasted no time.

"Mom, Dad, can I talk to you for a second? It's about Yukina," Tifani said, her voice honeyed and sweet, but the malice behind her words was unmistakable. I stood frozen at the entrance, knowing exactly what she was about to do. I could feel her setting the stage for what was to come, like a trap that had been waiting all along.

My parents exchanged glances before nodding, their stress palpable. "What is it, sweetheart?" Mom asked, her voice tired. She had enough to deal with after Reika’s media appearance, and now Tifani was about to make me the scapegoat.

"It’s just... I’m worried about Yukina. You saw how she acted at the press conference, right? It was so... out of character for her. I don’t think she’s handling this situation well. And I think—" Tifani paused, glancing at me with fake concern. "I think maybe she’s not in the best state of mind right now."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words stuck in my throat. I knew how this would play out. Tifani was planting seeds of doubt in their minds, twisting the narrative so that she came out looking like the concerned, perfect daughter, while I became the unstable one.

"Yukina?" Dad turned to me, his brows furrowed. "Is this true? Is there something you’re not telling us?"

"No," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I’m fine. I just—"

"She’s been under a lot of stress lately," Tifani interjected before I could finish, her tone dripping with false empathy. "We all have, but I think it’s really getting to her.She’s talking to herself…”A false tear dripped.”She’s scaring me... I don’t want her to feel overwhelmed, especially when we’re all trying to stay strong as a family."

Mom stopped for an instant,skeptical of Tifany but then her eyes softened as she looked at me. "Yuki, sweetheart, are you sure you’re okay? Maybe it would be good for you to take a step back from all this media attention. It’s a lot for someone your age to handle."

I clenched my fists, feeling the anger rise inside me. This was exactly what Tifani wanted— for them to see me as the fragile, unreliable one, while she continued her manipulation unchecked. I couldn’t let her win this round.

"I’m fine, really," I insisted, forcing confidence into my voice. "But maybe we should be focusing on what Reika and Tifani are planning, instead of worrying about me."

That got their attention. Mom’s brow furrowed, and Dad looked between us with suspicion. "What do you mean by that?"

Tifani’s smile faltered, but only for a second. "Yuki, what are you talking about? You’re sounding paranoid. There’s nothing going on between Reika and me."

"Really?" I shot back, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "Because I’ve seen your letters, Tifani. I’ve read them. I know you two have been planning something for months."

The room fell silent. Tifani’s eyes widened in shock, but I could see the wheels turning in her mind, calculating her next move. My parents looked at me, their confusion palpable, and for a brief moment, I felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe they would finally see the truth.

But then, Tifani struck.

"Yukina... those letters were private, between me and Reika. They weren’t about any ‘plans.’" She let out a small, pained laugh, turning to our parents with a tear in her eye. "I can’t believe she would invade my privacy like that, reading letters that had nothing to do with her. I’ve been trying to help Reika, trying to keep our family together, and this is what I get?"

Her performance was flawless. Mom’s face crumpled with sympathy, and Dad shook his head, his disappointment clear.

"Yuki," Dad said, his voice stern. "You shouldn’t have gone through Tifani’s things. That’s not how we handle things in this family. If you had concerns, you should’ve come to us directly."

I opened my mouth to protest again, but the words caught in my throat. Tifani had turned the tables so fast, so seamlessly, that I barely had time to process what had just happened.

"Why don’t you take some time to think about things?" Mom added gently, her concern now fully focused on me. "You’ve been under a lot of pressure, and it’s showing. We’ll handle things from here. You don’t need to worry about Tifani or Reika anymore."

Just like that, Tifani had won. She had effectively painted me as the unstable one, the one who couldn’t be trusted. And worse, my parents believed her.

As I stood there, reeling from the weight of their judgment, I realized that this was just the beginning. Tifani had thrown me under the bus, but I wasn’t going to stay down. I couldn’t. If I wanted to protect myself—and maybe even expose her for who she truly was—I had to be smarter, more calculated.

Tifani had underestimated me once before. She wouldn’t make that mistake again, but neither would I. The game was still on, and this time, I would make sure I was ready for whatever came next.

Later on that night,I heard a talk between mom and dad.

"I don't know what we're gonna do with her Fuyuki... Yukina seems unstable lately, and it's not like we can do the same we did with Reika, if the media discovers we’re even considering doing the same with Yukina, they’ll tear us apart," Mom's voice trembled with worry. "We’re already under so much scrutiny after Reika’s stunt. We can’t afford another scandal."

Dad let out a heavy sigh. "I know, Adara. But what choice do we have? We can’t just let this spiral out of control. First Reika, now Yukina? We’re losing grip on everything."

I felt my chest tighten as I listened from the shadows. They were discussing me like I was a ticking time bomb, another potential embarrassment for them to manage. The very thought of being sent away like Reika made my blood run cold. I didn’t know what had happened to her after she left, but I knew one thing—it hadn’t been good. The whispers, the guarded glances, the way no one ever spoke about her after she was gone—it was as if she’d become a ghost.

No, I wouldn’t let that happen to me.

As I quietly retreated back to my room, I knew what I had to do. Tifani had played her cards masterfully, but she had one fatal flaw: she believed she was untouchable. She thought she could manipulate everyone around her, but I knew her better than anyone else in the family. I had seen behind the mask.

I spent the next few days keeping a low profile, giving my parents the impression that I was reflecting, just like they wanted. But beneath the surface, I was strategizing. If Tifani wanted to paint me as the unstable one, I would play the part—just enough to keep her off my trail. Let her believe I was too frazzled to be a threat. Meanwhile, I’d be gathering everything I needed to expose her, to show our parents the truth behind her carefully crafted facade.

It wasn’t going to be easy. Tifani had years of experience in manipulation, and she was a master at twisting narratives. But I had one advantage: I wasn’t alone. Reika’s letters hinted at a growing fracture between the sisters. If I could find a way to exploit that, to drive a wedge between them, Tifani’s entire scheme might crumble.

The next time I overheard my parents talking, I caught something else that sent chills down my spine.

"I don't think we can send Yukina away," Dad murmured. "But... there's always the option of bringing in a professional. Someone to 'help' her. It would show the media that we're doing everything we can for our family."

Mom hesitated. "You mean... a therapist?"

"More than that," Dad replied. "We could frame it as a retreat—something to help her 'recenter' herself. Somewhere away from all this chaos. It would look like we're doing the right thing, without the same fallout as Reika's disappearance."

My heart sank. They weren’t going to send me away in the same way they had Reika, but they were still planning to isolate me. Hide me away under the guise of 'help,' while Tifani continued to pull the strings. I couldn’t let that happen.

That night, I wrote a letter of my own—a letter to Reika. I didn’t know if she’d respond, or even if she’d see it, but I had to try. If there was any chance of turning her against Tifani, this was it.

I poured everything into the letter, laying out what I had uncovered, my suspicions about Tifani’s true motives, and my fear that I was next on her list. I wasn’t sure how much Reika already knew or if she even cared, but I hoped that appealing to her pride, her desire for control, might be enough to spark something.

When I finished, I carefully hid the letter in the one place I knew Tifani wouldn’t look—in my old art supplies, gathering dust in the back of my closet. Then, I waited.

Tifani may have thrown me under the bus, but she didn’t realize I was crawling out from underneath it. The next round of this twisted game was about to begin, and this time, I wouldn’t be caught off guard. I would expose her, no matter what it took.