Chapter 5: The Lie That Spread Faster Than the Truth
By the end of the day, I understood something painful.
A lie could travel across a family faster than the truth ever could.
My phone became impossible to ignore.
Messages.
Calls.
Voice notes.
Relatives I hadn’t spoken to in months suddenly wanted to “check in.””
I knew why.
Flynn had told them his version.
And his version made me look cruel.
The first message came from my aunt.
*Aunt Linda: I heard there was some misunderstanding about Chloe’s move. I hope you can be generous.*
I stared at the word.
Generous.
It was interesting how people always used that word when they wanted someone else to give something away.
A second message appeared.
*Aunt Linda: Your sister has children.*
I placed my phone down.
Because apparently having children meant Chloe deserved my home more than I did.
An hour later, Flynn called.
I answered.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I wanted to hear the lie directly from him.
“Jessi.””
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“Flynn.””
“So I guess you’re happy now.””
I raised an eyebrow.
“Happy?””
“Yes. Embarrassing Chloe. Making her look bad.””
I leaned against the counter.
“You told people I agreed to give you my apartment.””
Silence.
A small one.
But enough.
“I think there was confusion.””
“No.””
“Jessi—”
“No. There wasn’t confusion.””
My voice stayed steady.
“You told people something that wasn’t true.””
He sighed.
“You’re focusing on the wrong thing.””
I almost laughed.
“The wrong thing?””
“Yes.””
He sounded irritated now.
“The point is Chloe and the kids need stability.””
“And I don’t?””
“That’s different.””
“How?””
“You’re an adult.””
I looked around my home.
“I’m thirty years old.””
“Exactly.””
“So because I’m thirty, I don’t need stability?””
“That’s not what I mean.””
“It’s exactly what you mean.””
He went quiet.
Then he changed tactics.
“You know, Chloe has always looked up to you.””
I said nothing.
“She thinks you’re the successful one.””
Again.
The successful one.
The responsible one.
The one who could handle anything.
“But now she feels like you abandoned her.””
I stared at the wall.
That sentence was almost impressive.
Turning his choice into my betrayal.
“You mean she feels abandoned because she can’t move into my apartment?””
“She feels rejected.””
“No.””
I interrupted.
“She feels disappointed.””
Silence.
“There’s a difference.””
Flynn’s voice hardened.
“You’re being selfish.””
I smiled.
There it was.
The word.
The one they always saved for moments when I refused.
Selfish.
Not when Chloe spent beyond her means.
Not when my parents paid her bills.
Not when Flynn chased another failed business.
Only when I protected myself.
“I’ll tell you something,” I said.
“What?””
“I spent seven years earning my apartment.””
“So?””
“So nobody gets to call me selfish for keeping it.””
He hung up.
Not because he won.
Because he had nothing left to say.
Later that evening, Chloe came back.
This time, she didn’t come angry.
She came tired.
“I told Flynn to stop.””
I looked at her.
“Stop what?””
“Talking to everyone.””
I nodded.
“Good.””
She sat down.
“He thinks if enough people pressure you, you’ll change your mind.””
I looked at her.
“And you?””
She looked away.
“I thought maybe he was right.””
That hurt more than anger.
Because at least anger was honest.
“You thought I would give in?””
She nodded.
“You always do.””
The words hung there.
I didn’t respond immediately.
Because she wasn’t trying to insult me.
She was describing a pattern.
One I had created.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I looked at her.
“For what?””
“For assuming.””
I sat across from her.
“Chloe, the apartment isn’t the only thing that hurt.””
She looked up.
“Then what?””
“You never once asked if I was okay.””
Her eyes softened.
“What do you mean?””
“You spent three weeks planning your move.””
She swallowed.
“But you never asked where I would go.””
She looked down.
“I didn’t think about that.””
“I know.””
And that was the saddest part.
I knew.
The next morning, something unexpected happened.
I received an email from my attorney.
The subject line was simple.
*Request for confirmation regarding apartment ownership inquiry.*
I opened it.
My heart slowed as I read.
Someone had contacted the legal office asking whether the apartment could be transferred.
Someone from my family.
But it wasn’t Chloe.
It wasn’t my father.
It wasn’t my mother.
I read the name again.
Then again.
Because I couldn’t believe it.
Flynn had not only told people the apartment was theirs.
He had already started looking for a way to make it official.
My attorney’s message was short.
*Please confirm whether you authorized any family member to discuss ownership transfer. If not, we recommend immediate legal action.*
I stared at the screen.
The betrayal suddenly felt different.
Before, they had been selfish.
Now they were trying to cross a line.
A line that could not be uncrossed.
That afternoon, I called my attorney.
And after thirty minutes of conversation, I learned something that changed everything.
Flynn wasn’t just trying to move into my apartment.
He had a financial problem.
A very serious one.
And my apartment wasn’t supposed to be his solution.
It was supposed to be his escape.
Because buried in the records was a piece of information nobody else knew.
Flynn wasn’t just struggling.
May you like
He was hiding something.
Something that could destroy the life Chloe thought she was building.
