When I got back to the dorm, I paused outside the door, hearing Cecilia's voice inside.

I missed Cecilia's part, but Wendy's indignant response came through clearly: "I can't believe Simon would do that! He hasn't even ditched his side chick, and he's already making moves on our Cece? That's just gross!"


Cecilia sighed dramatically. "Simon swears he doesn't even like Selena. Says he never borrowed money from her either. He just chatted with her a few times to be nice to an underclassman, and she totally misunderstood."

"I knew it! As if Simon would ever go for that broke girl. She doesn't even wear designer labels."

"Whatever. I don't need Simon anyway—I have plenty of other options. If Selena wants him so badly, she can have him. Whether he wants her back is their problem, not mine."


Wendy sighed admiringly. "Cece, you're too kind. Why waste even a second thinking about her?"

I'd heard enough. I shoved the door open and strolled in, fixing Cecilia with a sweet smile. "Please, don't waste your precious thoughts on me. You might enjoy dumpster diving, but I don't make a habit of collecting garbage. Trash belongs in the trash can."


"What's that supposed to mean?" Cecilia's face flushed with anger.

Wendy patted her arm soothingly. "Don't waste your energy, Cece. She's clearly just jealous of everything you have."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Jealous? Of what exactly? Her counterfeit products? Or her impressive collection of lies?"

"What are you even talking about?" Wendy looked genuinely confused. "Are you delusional? What fake products?"

I glanced pointedly at the expensive-looking skincare products lined up on their desks. "Believe what you want. You'll find out soon enough when your faces break out in hives and you're rushing to the ER."

"How dare you wish that on us!" Wendy shrieked, clutching her face in horror.

Cecilia grabbed her arm. "Ignore her. She's probably never even seen authentic luxury products before."

"Right. Classic sour grapes syndrome."

Despite her outward confidence, I noticed Wendy didn't touch any of Cecilia's skincare products that night.

When Cecilia offered her some fancy serum, Wendy quickly claimed she'd already completed her routine.

Two mornings later, bloodcurdling screams erupted from the bathroom.

Everyone jolted awake. I yanked my curtain back, still half-asleep—and nearly tumbled from my bunk in shock.

Zoe stood in the doorway, her face erupting with angry red pustules. Her neck was covered in a spreading rash that looked painful and inflamed.

"Oh my God! Help me! Will this leave scars? It burns like hell!"

She couldn't stop scratching, making everything look worse by the second.

"You need to get to the hospital. Now," one roommate urged, backing away slightly.

"I'll take you. Cece, you coming?" Zoe looked desperately toward Cecilia's bed.

Only her bed curtain remained tightly closed, not even a rustle of movement from inside.

Funny—normally if I so much as breathed too loudly, she'd complain about her beauty sleep being disturbed. Why so dead to the world today?

In the end, only Wendy volunteered to accompany Zoe to the campus clinic.

When they returned, I was just stepping out of the shower.

I caught Zoe's angry whisper: "Why did you shut me up in there? That doctor had the nerve to say I was using counterfeit skincare! Everything came from Cece—how could it possibly be fake?"

Wendy hesitated before answering softly, "Maybe she didn't know either. Just... stop using that stuff for now. And don't mention it to Cece, okay? We don't want her feeling bad about this."

I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out of my head. These two were beyond help—absolute disciples in the cult of Cecilia.

To my surprise, Cecilia eventually emerged and confessed to the girls that she'd "been scammed" with counterfeit products.

Zoe, having followed Wendy's advice to ditch the sketchy products, saw her skin slowly begin to heal.