Everyone Chose Her, so I Chose Revenge

My best friend, Aria Sinclair, develops amnesia after killing my parents in a drunk-driving accident. Somehow, everyone forgives her.

My own brother signs a letter of forgiveness on her behalf. The son I nearly died bringing into this world affectionately calls her "Ari". Even my lawyer husband of eight years stands in front of her and defends her.

Because I insist on taking her to court, they join forces and have me committed to a psychiatric facility for an entire year.

On the day I'm released, Grant Berton comes to pick me up.

He says, "Aria has lost her memory. She's changed and turned over a new leaf. Do you really have to demand a life for a life? Can't we forget the past and move on together?"

Voices rise around me from every direction, all urging me to let go and forcing me to forgive.

I look at the people who are supposedly the closest and dearest to me.

Then, I calmly utter one word. "No."

This time, I don't scream and rage about sending her to prison. Even when I catch Grant and her together in the bedroom, I don't pick up a knife and drive them out.

Instead, I silently speak to the system in my mind. "I give up on the mission."

I don't want the wreckage of the past, and I have no interest whatsoever in a future without light.

The moment I pushed open the bedroom door, I thought I'd lose control the way I always did, rush in and tear them apart.

The two of them were tangled together on the bed. Aria Sinclair screamed and buried herself in Grant Berton's arms, while he grabbed the blanket and pulled it over her.

"So you caught us," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "You're not going to throw another fit, are you?"

Aria huddled beneath the covers, her voice small and pitiful. "Carly, we never meant for this to happen."

But I just stood there, perfectly calm, and called out to the system in my mind. "I'm giving up the mission."

"Carly, if the mission is marked as a failure, your soul will be destroyed!" the system warned.

"Good. At least I won't have to look at them anymore."

I couldn't stomach another second of a future spent tangled up with these two.

"Countdown initiated. Affection score will be settled in 24 hours."

Grant pulled on a shirt like nothing had happened. "Since you're here, I might as well tell you now. Tomorrow's the anniversary of your parents' death. You can take the chance to clear things up for Aria."

"Clear what up?" I asked.

Aria's voice turned sweet and syrupy. "That I had nothing to do with your parents' deaths, of course. It was all just a terrible accident."

I shook my head without hesitation. "Not a chance."

Aria's eyes welled up instantly, the picture of wounded innocence. "Carly, I've already been punished. I have amnesia. I don't remember anything from before. Isn't that enough?"

Her voice cracked. "Do you really need me to pay with my life?"

I stared her down. "Yes. I wish you'd drop dead right now."

The words had barely left my mouth when Aria suddenly produced a knife from somewhere and pressed the tip against her chest. "Since you hate me that much, I'll give my life back to you."

My expression didn't change. "Go ahead. Do it."

The blade hadn't even broken through the fabric of her shirt before Grant snatched it away. In the same motion, he backhanded me across the face. He pulled Aria into his arms, and when he turned to look at me, his eyes were full of nothing but disgust.

The truth was, everything had gone smoothly at the start. From dating to marriage to having a child together, my Affection score peaked at 98%. At the height of it, I'd even thought about staying in this world after the mission was complete.

Then Aria started showing up in our lives more and more often, and my score dropped and kept dropping until it finally cratered below 10%.

"Carly Burke, she's been your best friend for over ten years. Can't you just pretend none of this happened and move on?"

Why should I forgive her just because she had amnesia? Why wasn't I allowed to hate her?

I let out a bitter laugh. "No."

The word had barely left my mouth when something hard slammed into the back of my head. I turned to find my son, Miles Berton, standing in the doorway.

On the floor lay a toy robot—the limited-edition model I'd gone through hell to have shipped from overseas for his birthday. The day he'd unwrapped it, he'd thrown his arms around me and said, "Mom, you're my favorite person in the whole world!"

Now his little face was flushed red, and his eyes held nothing but hatred for me.

"You're a horrible woman!" Miles shouted. "Ari already lost her memory. She nearly had a breakdown because of you. What more do you want?"