JASMINE
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the walk-in closet, tugging at the hem of Stephan's oversized charcoal-gray hoodie.
It swallowed me whole sleeves dangling past my fingertips, the hem hitting mid-thigh like a dress.
Underneath, I had paired it with his black slim-fit joggers, rolled at the ankles so they wouldn't drag on the floor. The hoodie smelled like crisp cedarwood cologne mixed with expensive laundry detergent and that faint smoky trace that clung to all his suits.
I had raided his side of the closet because nothing in "Jasmine's" wardrobe felt right, all silk blouses, pencil skirts, and heels that screamed "perfect billionaire wife." I wanted comfort. I wanted to be there, there is no way I am trying my best to change a story and then I will begin to act totally like her.
Elena nearly dropped the breakfast tray when I came downstairs.
"Ma'am… the car is ready. Your school is about forty minutes away, so you should eat quickly." She froze mid-sentence, eyes traveling from the baseball cap on my head, down the baggy hoodie that clearly belonged to Mr. Maxwell, to the rolled-up joggers and my favorite white sneakers. Her mouth opened, closed, opened again.
"What… What is wrong with you?" she finally managed, voice strangled.
"Why are you dressed like… like…"
"Like a thug?" I finished cheerfully, giving her a big grin. "I know, I love it and I don't give a damn what anyone thinks."
(Host… the least you could do is dress like her.)
(System, you want me to find out more about her, don't you? So I'm doing exactly what you want. This is my story now, and I am changing it for the better.)
Elena looked like she was about to faint. "Ma'am… First, that is Mr. Maxwell's clothing. Second… why…"
I waved her off and dropped into the chair at the dining table. "When you are done panicking, Elena, I am starving." I let out sitting in front of my breakfast.
The spread in front of me was ridiculous. Golden waffles stacked high with fresh strawberries and whipped cream, crispy bacon arranged like art, fluffy scrambled eggs flecked with chives, a bowl of mixed berries glistening with dew, warm croissants shedding buttery flakes, a pitcher of fresh orange juice, and a silver pot of coffee that smelled like heaven. I attacked it like a woman who had been living on instant noodles her whole life.
I tore into a waffle with my fingers, syrup dripping down my wrist, shoved half a strip of bacon in my mouth at once, and moaned around a mouthful of eggs. "This is unfair. Food shouldn't be allowed to taste this good."
(The real Jasmine ate with dignity.) The system echoes in my head.
(Of course she did. She was Jasmine and I am me.)
I rolled my eyes at the system and kept eating and licking syrup off my thumb, tearing croissants apart with both hands, gulping orange juice straight from the glass like it was water.
My phone buzzed on the table, I had been ignoring it all morning as the screen lit up with the same name.
"Forever Love."
I rolled my eyes so hard I almost strained something. I wonder why she would use that kind of title for him.
(That is Henry. Remember, I told you she was in love with him.)
I dropped the phone face-down and kept eating.
Another buzz followed and a message preview popped up:
"We are supposed to submit the project today. Try to get it done and get to school on time so I can submit it."
I scoffed loud enough that Elena jumped. I was still licking strawberry juice off my fingers when I heard small footsteps thumping down the stairs.
I turned only to see Jaden standing at the bottom step.
His black hair stuck up in every direction like he had lost a fight with his pillow. Dark circles shadowed his midnight-blue eyes, the same eyes as Stephan's.
He wore an oversized hoodie, probably one of his dad's old ones, and sweatpants, shoulders hunched, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He looked exhausted and very, very small.
(System… what's wrong with him?)
(He must be tired and frustrated. His father has been giving him the silent treatment.)
(Silent treatment?)
(He got into a fight at school yesterday. Someone insulted you. He got suspended. Stephan took away all his gadgets and grounded him. He won't listen to Jaden's side of the story.)
My fork froze halfway to my mouth.
(Is that how much he cares about the original Jasmine?)
(She was his mother figure. Of course he cares.)
I stared at the little boy who looked ready to bolt back upstairs.
Elena stepped in front of him like a shield, worry etched into every line of her face.
"Ma'am…" she started.
"Elena, chill. I just want to ask what's wrong." I set the fork down and stood up slowly.
Elena's eyes widened like I had announced I was about to eat the child.
I walked toward Jaden. He tensed, ready to run.
"Hey…" I said softly.
He flinched when I reached out, making me stop, my hand hovering in the air.
"Just like your father," I muttered under my breath, then crouched down so we were eye-level.
"Pretty sure you are hungry. Come eat. No need to hide."
He snorted, voice small and bitter. "So you can make my father hate me more? Never."
That hurt more than I expected.
I softened my voice a bit now as I tried to explain to him. "Of course not. You need to eat. He can't ground you from food."
"He told me not to leave my room, so…"
I stood up, grabbed his wrist gently but firmly, and tugged him toward the table before he could protest.
He stumbled after me, eyes huge. I lifted him as easily as lifting a backpack and plopped him into the chair beside mine.
He froze, mouth open.
"I get that you are a tough guy," I said, smirking, "but trust me, you don't want to duel with me. I carried your father once too."
His eyes went round as saucers. "You… what?"
"Forget you heard that." I winked and shoved a plate toward him. "Eat. I won't tell your dad you came downstairs… but you have to do something for me."
He stared at me for a long second, suspicious. Then he looked at the waffles. His stomach growled loud enough for both of us to hear.
He grabbed a fork. "What do you want?" I leaned in close and whispered so Elena couldn't hear.
"I want you to tell me everything you know about Henry. Every time he came to the house. Every conversation you overheard. Deal?"
Jaden's eyes narrowed. "Why do you care?"
"Because I am trying to fix some things." He stared at me for some while before he nodded once.
"Deal. But if you tell Dad…"
"I won't. Pinky swear."I held out my pinky. He stared at it like it was a trap.
Then slowly he hooked his small pinky around mine.
"Deal," he whispered.
I grinned. "Good boy. Now eat before the waffles get cold." He attacked the food like he hadn't eaten in days.