Chapter 149: Echoes of the Past

Harper’s POV

The next morning, I woke up with one singular, driving focus.

Mom’s documentary.

If I was going to do this, I wanted to do it properly. I didn’t want her sitting in front of a lens feeling self-conscious or like she’d been dragged into a clinical, cold interview. I wanted her to feel beautiful. I wanted her to look into the camera with the absolute confidence of a survivor.

So right after breakfast, I grabbed my purse, tossed my keys into my bag, and headed out. There were a few essential things I needed to pick up before we set up the lighting some fresh makeup shades, a few nail products, and a hydrating treatment for Mom’s hair. I also wanted to find a soft, neutral linen backdrop from the craft store to give the interview setup a clean, professional depth.

I wasn’t trying to convert our living room into a Hollywood studio, but I wanted the visual aesthetics to match the beauty of her story.

I parked at the mall and walked inside, the cool air-conditioned air washing over me. The morning rush was light, the quiet hum of footsteps echoing off the tiled floors.

I was halfway through the cosmetics section of a department store, scanning the displays for a soft rose blush, when my gaze landed on a figure near the register.

Ethan.

My entire body went instantly rigid. The air pulled straight out of my lungs.

He was standing behind the counter wearing a black employee polo, scanning inventory. For two horrifying seconds, I just froze, staring at him.

Then, my brain kicked into overdrive. I snapped my head away, my heart hammering against my ribs. No. Absolutely not. Not today.

I spun on my heel and began walking briskly in the opposite direction, my boots clicking sharply against the floor. Maybe he hadn’t seen me. Maybe I could just shrink into the crowd, double back to my car, and leave.

I walked toward the handbag department, pretending to be intensely fascinated by a leather tote on display, every nerve ending in my body on high alert.

Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me.

I didn’t want this dark shadow hanging over my morning. I had no idea how I would react if he confronted me, and I didn’t want to find out.

"Harper."

I stopped dead in my tracks.

My stomach dropped straight to my shoes. Slowly, taking a deep, shuddering breath to steady my rising panic, I turned around.

Ethan was standing a few feet away, his expression cautious, his eyes heavy with something desperate.

I forced my posture to straighten, hiding the tremble in my fingers. "Hi, Ethan."

He looked at me for a long moment, swallowing hard. "I didn’t know you were in town."

"I was just leaving." I turned to walk away.

"Can I please just talk to you for one minute?"

I paused, closing my eyes for a fraction of a second. "No, Ethan. There’s really nothing left for us to say."

"Please, Harper." His voice cracked, laced with a raw, desperate edge that made my skin prickle. "Just give me one minute. Please. Just let me explain."

I glanced around the high-ceilinged store. Shoppers were casually browsing a few aisles over, staff were moving about, and directly above us, a security camera blinks its faint red light. The public space gave me a sudden, grounding sense of safety.

I turned back to face him, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. "One minute."

Ethan let out a long breath, his shoulders dropping. "Thank you." He ran a hand through his hair, his knuckles tight. "I’ve been trying to get in touch with you."

I frowned, my guard rising higher.

"I’ve called your phone. I even went to your house a few days ago," he admitted softly.

My expression hardened into stone. "My mom told me."

"She turned me away at the door."

"She did the right thing."

"I know," he whispered, lowering his gaze to the floor. "She was right to do it. But I... I just needed to apologize to you, Harper."

I didn’t say a word. I just stood there, waiting.

"I’m so deeply sorry," his voice rasped out, thick with regret. "For everything."

I kept my arms folded, refusing to give him an easy out.

"I’m sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry for the absolute hell I put you through," he continued, the words spilling out in a hurried rush. "I was stupid. I was reckless. I let toxic people influence me, and I genuinely thought I was making smart moves. I thought I was bettering my position, but I was completely out of my mind."

I stared at his face, searching for any sign of the cruel person he’d been months ago.

"I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on everything," he said quietly. "Especially after watching the absolute mess unfold with Justin and his family’s company." He swallowed hard. "I realized Vanessa was completely using me as a pawn."

I raised an eyebrow, a cold chuckle escaping my throat. "You’re only coming to that realization now?"

"I know how pathetic it sounds."

"It sounds like you’re deflecting your own terrible choices onto her."

"I’m not!" He shook his head frantically. "I’m not blaming her for my actions. I made my own choices, and I have to live with the consequences. I’m responsible for what I did."

I remained silent, watching him squirm under my gaze.

"I’m sorry for ever getting involved with her," he murmured. "I’m sorry for the public exposure, the stress, and the harm it brought to your life."

I studied the exhaustion etched around his eyes. "So you’re sorry about Vanessa."

"No. I’m sorry about all of it."

"Because that isn’t the only thing you did, Ethan," I pointed out, my tone dipping into something dangerously quiet.

His face drained of color.

"What about the things you did long before Vanessa ever entered the picture?" I asked, stepping closer, my voice laced with steel.

I knew he remembered. The targeted posts. The leaked photos. The insidious lies posted online that almost ruined my life and my reputation.

He looked away, unable to meet my eyes. "I... I got paid, Harper."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"I got paid to leak those things."

I stared at him, the world around us suddenly feeling very quiet. "Someone paid you?"

He nodded grimly.

"How much?"

He hesitated, his cheeks burning red, before whispering an unbelievably small, embarrassing figure.

My stomach twisted into a tight, sickened knot. "You actually took money to destroy my reputation?"

"Yes."

"Why, Ethan? Why?"

"Because I was desperate!" he burst out softly, looking around nervously before lowering his voice. "My parents had cut me off financially. I was running out of money, I couldn’t keep up appearances, and I needed quick cash. When the anonymous offer came through, I took it. I wasn’t thinking about you. I was being selfish."

I couldn’t process the sheer cruelty of it. I felt sick.

"Who paid you?" I demanded, my hands shaking.

"I don’t know."

"What do you mean you don’t know?!"

"I mean I don’t know!" he insisted defensively. "It was all done through burner accounts and digital transfers. I never saw a face or heard a real voice."

"Do you still have the chat logs? The account details?"

He shook his head sadly. "No. The account was deleted, and the logs vanished. There’s nothing left."

I stared at him for a long, heavy moment, processing the terrifying reality of his words. I took a deliberate step back from him.

"Okay," I said softly.

"Harper..."

"Thank you for telling me the truth," I said, giving him a singular, distant nod. "Everything has passed now. Everyone is moving on."

"I know, but "

"I really need to go, Ethan."

He looked at me with profound sorrow. "I’m so sorry, Harper. Truly."

I offered a stiff nod. "It’s fine."

I turned to walk away, but his voice called out after me one last time.

"Harper."

I stopped, looking back over my shoulder.

"I know saying sorry doesn’t undo the damage," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. "I’m about to graduate, and my entire life feels like a pile of rubble because of the choices I made. I’ve spent months looking at where I wanted to be versus where I ended up. I just... I felt like I owed you a real apology before I left."

I looked at him no longer angry, just deeply tired of his presence. "You’ve apologized."

He nodded slowly. "Thank you."

I turned around and walked out of the store, my boots pounding against the tile. I didn’t stop until I was three doors down, leaning against a marble pillar near the center fountain.

My heart was hammering wildly against my ribs, my breathing shallow.

I pulled out my phone, opening the neat shopping list I’d made for Mom’s documentary. But the words on the screen blurred together. I couldn’t focus on makeup or backdrops anymore.

Someone paid Ethan to ruin me.

Someone had intentionally orchestrated those initial lies, spending real money to smear my name before Vanessa ever crossed my path.

And suddenly, a dark, chilling question I thought I had buried months ago came rushing back with terrifying force, echoing in the quiet corners of my mind.

Who?