Ivyâs heart leapt when she saw the notification in her email: an invitation to an interview. It was only an interview, yet to her, it was as precious as gold dust. After a string of rejections that felt like tossing wishes into the abyss, this was a lifeline.
She knew she had to bring her A-game. Every detail mattered, from her poise to her attire, so she dipped into her modest savings and set out to hit the local mall.
The clothes Alyssa had prepared were all a bit too glitzy for an interview, more suitable for a gala than an office.
With a quick word to Alyssa, she was out the door.
Roaming through the mall alone, Ivy found the perfect business suit. It was like the mannequin had been her twin, but the price tag was hefty. She hesitated, pondering whether to bite the bullet.
âHey, isnât that my dear little sister Ivy?â a voice drawled, one that was as familiar as it was unwelcome.
Ivyâs brow furrowed instinctively. Sure enough, there was Clara, flanked by her usual entourage.
Ever since Ivy had paid off the Dunhills with three million, they hadnât bothered her. Sheâd hoped sheâd seen the last of them. But fate had other ideas.
Clara was flaunting her newfound luxury, no doubt funded by Ivyâs unwilling generosity.
Ivy didnât care for the Dunhillsâ lavish lifestyle and certainly didnât want to engage with Clara. She ducked into a dressing room, hoping to make a quick exit.
But Clara blocked her path. âWhat are you even doing here, Ivy? As if you could afford anything. Just here to play dress-up? You should stick to wearing my hand-me-downs!â
Ivy had intended to buy the suit regardless. She sidestepped Clara and said to the sales assistant, âHi, could you pack up the suit from the dressing room for me? Iâll pay by card.â
âOf course, just a moment.â
As Ivy handed over her debit card, she prepared to leave without further ado.
But Clara wasnât done. âArenât you the clever one, playing the mistress? Itâs effortless, isnât it, spending another womanâs husbandâs money?â
As Clara spoke, her companions around her started to assess Ivy with scornful looks, mocking and jeering.
Ivy wanted to ignore her, but Clara was relentless.
Ivy fixed her with a cold stare. âExcuse me, miss, but are we acquainted? Spread one more rumor, and I might just sue you for defamation.â
âWhatâs with your attitude? Iâm your sister! Who do you think youâre talking to?â Clara raised her hand, ready to teach Ivy a lesson.
Ivy was prepared, catching Claraâs wrist mid-air. âLay a hand on me? Let me make it clear- I am no longer the Ivy Dunhill you knew. When I gave you that money, I cut all ties with the Dunhills, including you! Youâre not my sister anymore, and you have no right to judge or dictate my life. Got it?â
With those words, Ivy yanked her arm away and strode out, leaving Clara flabbergasted. Ivy had changed, and she was nobodyâs victim anymore.