Chapter 2

Sure enough, three days later.

Hannah told me a post was blowing up on Twitter.

She suspected Tiffany wrote it, because the account's media tab showed photos of our campus and dorm hallway.

I took the phone and looked:

The tweet read: *Is someone with depression not even allowed to have a crush?*

The thread went on:

*I've suffered from severe depression for years. I often feel like life isn't worth living, but I've fought hard not to let the illness win. Then, I found my beacon of light—someone who gave me a reason to keep breathing.*

*I'm just an ordinary girl. When I fell for him, he already had a girlfriend, so I was completely content just loving him in secret from afar.*

*But his girlfriend found out, and she came and threatened me.*

*I only wanted to admire my light from a distance. Is that really too much to ask?*

The replies were flooded with support and comfort for her.

[You didn't do anything wrong! Does having a crush require someone else's permission?]

[Why is that girlfriend so heartless? Can people show a little compassion to someone fighting mental illness?]

[They're just dating, not married. Go for it, girl! Chasing true love isn't a crime.]

[If you don't go wild while you're young, when will you?]

I scrolled to the very bottom and saw people already trying to doxx me.

They claimed they were going to hunt down this "toxic bitch" so everyone could see what kind of monster I was.

Boiling with fury, I stormed over to confront Tiffany.

She didn't even deny it. She just rolled her eyes and said flippantly:

"I told the truth, okay? Besides, I have freedom of speech. I can post whatever I want."

"Freedom of speech doesn't give you the right to spin lies! Delete that post right now."

"Why should I? Why would I delete it? I'm just sharing my personal feelings and letting people witness my journey."

A lump of pure rage caught in my throat; my chest literally ached from how mad I was.

I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her straight to our resident dean's office.

After I laid out the whole story with proof, the dean ordered Tiffany to take the post down.

Under the dean's authority, she reluctantly deleted it.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Little did I know, she went right ahead and set up a private SnapChat group behind my back.

Right after my elective class ended, my phone buzzed with a call from Luke.

I answered, hearing chaotic noise and muffled shouting on the other end.

"Harper, help! Get down here!" Luke's voice sounded genuinely panicked.

My stomach dropped. Luke was always calm and collected.

If he was panicking, something was seriously wrong.

I asked for his location and rushed over.

When I arrived, Tiffany was clutching his shirt, while the two of them were trapped in a heated dispute.

The moment Luke saw me, he shook her off and dove behind my back.

"Harper, she's insane! I was just grabbing lunch off campus and ran into her, and she's been stalking me ever since."

Luke said every step he took, she matched. When he tried to walk faster, she grabbed onto his clothes.

Whenever Luke snapped at her to let go, she burst into tears, making it look to passersby like he was an abusive scumbag dumping his poor girlfriend.

Bystanders were already giving him filthy looks, whispering, and a few self-righteous people were pulling out their phones, threatening to blast him online.

Meanwhile, Tiffany stood there sobbing softly without explaining a single thing. When Luke tried to clear his name, nobody believed him.

The sheer revulsion and disgust in his eyes were real enough for anyone with working eyes to see.

Furious, I stepped forward and confronted Tiffany:

"Why the hell are you harassing him?"