Chapter 3The Heartless Sister

After two days of relaxing at home, I decided to go to the office.

When I pushed open the glass doors, the office went silent.

Colleagues buried their heads in their work, eyes darting nervously.

The office gossip, usually loud and obnoxious, didn't dare look at me.

I smirked and walked to my cubicle. The moment I turned on my computer, my manager called out. "Harper. HR wants to see you."

Inside the office, the HR director looked grave. "The whole company knows."

I smiled. "Okay."

"This is bad PR, Harper. Partners are questioning our corporate culture because of you."

"And?" I stirred my coffee slowly.

"You need to fix this. Don't drag the company down."

"You mean, you want me to resign?"

He didn't answer, which was answer enough.

I nodded, set my cup down, and walked out.

I packed my box. As I left the building, the security guard stared at me with complex eyes.

I pulled out my phone.

[Evil Sister Saga Continues: Victim Suffering Mental Breakdown on Streets!]

The comments were unhinged.

"Animal. Scum. She doesn't deserve to breathe."

"Capitalist trash. Glad she got fired!"

"Why hasn't someone beaten her up yet?"

These people. So eager to play hero.

I shook my head and chuckled. As I approached my apartment building, I smelled paint thinner.

My front door was covered in red paint.

DEMON. DIE.

The words dripped down the wood like blood.

Someone had scattered fake funeral money in the hallway.

Tacky.

I stepped over it. Just as I unlocked the door, a commotion erupted behind me.

The cavalry had arrived.

Aunt Linda led the charge, followed by a pack of cousins. They looked ready for a lynching.

"Harper! You cold-blooded snake! If you don't take your sister back today, we aren't leaving!"

Uncle Bob slammed his cane on the floor. "Animals treat their kin better than you! Your sister is freezing and starving. Where is your heart?!"

My cousins rolled up their sleeves, looking tough. "Maybe we should throw her on the street. See how she likes it."

"Are you done performing?" I yawned, leaning against the doorframe.

"You guys are all about justice, right? She’s so pitiful, right? Great. Which one of you is taking her home?"

Silence.

"What? No volunteers?" I sneered. "Easy to be generous with my money. Why don't you step up?"

Aunt Linda turned purple. "You will rot in hell!"

"Maybe." I dialed 911 on speaker. "Yes, I have intruders threatening my safety. Address is..."

The police arrived in ten minutes. The relatives scattered like roaches, cursing me as they ran.

But the reporters were harder to shake. They swarmed the lobby.

"Harper, how do you feel about the allegations?"

"Your sister is penniless. Do you feel no guilt?"

"Why did you force the inheritance waiver?"

The camera flashes were blinding.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and smiled lazily into the lens. "You guys love pitying her so much?"

I looked directly into the camera. "Then you raise her."

The reporter froze.

The audience watching the livestream lost their minds.

"She’s insane."

"She actually has no soul."

"I want to punch the screen."

The internet hate mob mobilized. They started digging into my past.

"I heard she cheated in elementary school. Teachers always knew she was bad news."

"My cousin's friend's roommate knew her in college. Said she was manipulative."

"Why hasn't her boyfriend dumped her?"

Within hours, my social circle imploded.

Ex-colleagues: Are you crazy?

Old classmates: Do you have no conscience?

Ex-boyfriend: Delete my number.

They thought "morality" would crush me.

Naive.

That night, I posted a photo on Instagram.

A Michelin-star dinner. Wagyu steak, truffle pasta, a $500 bottle of wine.

Caption: Delicious.