Vera Hollins

Power. Money. Appearances. They are everything. All that matters is being on top, and you don’t get there by playing nice. You play dirty and trample over others. You deceive. Anything else is a sign of weakness. And rich people can’t show any weakness.

That was what my parents had taught me, and that was what I tried to uphold when I bullied Zach Curtis in my freshman year of high school three years ago. I had to show everyone I was at the top of the food chain and what I said went, ignoring my inner voice that told me I was wrong or my feelings for him.

For months, I humiliated him in the worst ways, until the day I inadvertently caused an incident that left him with a burn scar. He never got to hear how sorry I was because he disappeared shortly after, and I never saw him again.

But now he’s back, and he wants revenge.

He doesn’t care that I regret what happened, and he refuses to listen to reason. He won’t stop, no matter how much I try to plead with him. Not until he sees me ruined.

Not until he gets “justice.”

He says that monsters breed monsters.

And I’m afraid I might learn exactly how true that is.