Chapter 1Exposing My Viral Holiday Fraud

I was killing time on the drive back to my hometown for the holidays, scrolling through TikTok, when I hit a post that made my blood boil.

“How to handle your ‘needs’ during the holidays back home, girls? Watch and learn.”

The video was a series of text overlays:

“Step one: Pick a target and start a rumor. Everyone’s back in town—friends, family, the whole neighborhood. His parents will be so obsessed with their ‘reputation’ that they’ll practically gift-wrap him for me.”

“Result? A free space-heater for my bed, and I don't even have to pay for dinner. Absolute perfection.”

In the comments, someone asked: “But Tiff, are you actually gonna marry him?”

The creator replied: “LMAO. You know me. I’m all about that new-car smell. Once the holidays are over, he’s trade-in value.”

I felt a surge of genuine disgust. I closed the app, trying to shake off the ick.

But the moment I stepped through the front door of my childhood home, I didn't get a "Welcome Home." My father was standing in the foyer, his face a dark, stormy mask of resentment.

“I didn’t think after a few years in the city you’d turn into such a degenerate,” he spat, his voice trembling with shame. “Living with a woman, getting her pregnant, forcing her into a back-alley clinic?”

I froze, my suitcase halfway over the threshold. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb!” he roared. “You’re moving into her place tonight. You’re going to make this right before the whole town finds out what a coward I raised.”

My heart did a slow, sickening thud against my ribs.

Wait. Why did this script sound so familiar?

* * *

My head was spinning. Was I… was I being set up?

The absurdity of it almost made me want to laugh. Almost.

“Dad, you can’t seriously believe that crap,” I said, trying to keep my voice level.

He stepped toward me, his jaw set. “It’s not ‘crap’ when the whole parish is talking about it! Besides, why would a woman like her—a successful CEO—make something like that up?”

CEO?

“Her?” I asked, squinting. “Are we talking about Tiffany Snyder? Tiffany is a CEO now?”

How long had I been away? Had I missed a total shift in the space-time continuum?

My father’s face reddened further. “You’re supposed to be the one with the college degree. We worked ourselves to the bone to send you off to school, and what do you have to show for it? Nothing. Tiffany barely finished high school and she’s already buying property in the city. And look at you. You’ve been ‘grinding’ for years and you can’t even afford a decent car.”

The contempt in his eyes was a physical weight.

“If I’d known, I wouldn’t have wasted a dime on your tuition. I should’ve just put you to work and saved my money.”

My sister, Lexie, didn't even look up from her gaming headset on the couch. “Told you, Dad. You should’ve bought me that high-end PC instead. I could’ve been a pro-streamer by now. Investing in Brooks was a total loss.”

My father nodded in grim agreement. “I expected you to be our ticket out of this place. Now, after this scandal, I’ll be lucky if I don't have to pay her family to take you off my hands. Your mother should have listened to her gut when she was pregnant with you.”

The cruelty of it hit me like a physical blow. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my father cut me off.

“I’ve already called her. You’re heading over there tonight.”

“Excuse me?” I stood up, my pulse hammering in my ears.

“What choice do we have? You think you have options after what you did? She’s willing to take you in despite the disgrace. You should be thanking your lucky stars.”

I felt like I was losing my mind. Was I back in the nineteenth century? Some woman spreads a baseless lie about me, and my own family decides to sell me into domestic servitude to save face?

I pulled out my phone. Tiffany’s TikTok had just updated.

“Update, girls! He’s coming over today. Get ready for some ‘content.’”

She panned the camera to a sheer, lacy nightgown laid out on her bed and added a suggestive, greasy smirk.

“If you know, you know~”

The comments were flooding in: “God, I wish I had your moves!” “Doing the Lord’s work for us single girls!” “Don't forget to livestream the good parts!”

I gripped my phone so hard I thought the screen might crack. This was not happening.