My sister moved in, convinced my boyfriend I cheated. I exposed her lie…
Chapter 1: The Rain and My Sister
It all began on a dreary Tuesday afternoon, typical of the Pacific Northwest. Rain pattered steadily on the porch of the Craftsman house that Mark and I had bought two years earlier.
I was in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Standing there was Chloe, my sister, with two large suitcases and eyes swollen from crying.
“He kicked me out, Sarah,” Chloe sobbed, rainwater mixing with tears streaming down her cheeks. “I have nowhere else to go.”
I, Sarah Vance, 32, a pharmacist who always put family first, didn’t hesitate to open the door. “Come in. Stay as long as you like.”
Mark, my boyfriend, a gentle and somewhat meek architect. He didn’t object, even showing sympathy for Chloe. “She’s family,” he said, kissing my forehead.
But little did I know that the moment Chloe stepped through that doorway, I had single-handedly detonated a time bomb right under my feet.
For the next three months, the atmosphere in the house changed. It was so subtle I barely noticed. My perfume bottles were moved. My sexy lingerie disappeared and reappeared in strange places. And Mark… he started to distance himself.
He checked my phone frequently. He asked me strange questions about my work hours.
“You were 30 minutes late last night,” Mark said, his eyes glued to the TV. “Traffic?”
“Yes, you know I-5 rush hour,” I replied, wearily taking off my shoes.
In the corner, Chloe sat reading a magazine, looking up at me with a knowing smile. “Sister, I saw a red sports car parked near your workplace today. It’s beautiful.”
I frowned. “Which car?”
Mark turned to look at me, his eyes darkening. He said nothing, but suspicion had begun to sprout, fueled by Chloe’s petty lies.
Chapter 2: The False Evidence
The climax was last Friday night.
I returned home after my night shift, exhausted. As I entered the living room, I saw Mark sitting on the sofa, clutching a phone. Not his, not mine. A disposable flip phone (burner phone).
Chloe sat beside him, her hand on his shoulder, feigning sympathy.
“Sarah,” Mark said, his voice trembling with anger. “We need to talk.”
He threw the phone down on the glass table. Clang.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Don’t play dumb!” Mark yelled, jumping to his feet. “Chloe found it in my winter coat pocket when she was about to take it to the laundry. Open it and see!”
I picked up the phone. Opened the messages.
A series of messages sent to an unknown number named “Big D.”
“I miss you.”
“Mark is so boring, I just want to be with you.”
“Let’s meet at the old hotel tonight.”
The timing of the messages coincided with times when I was on duty or came home late.
“Mark, I don’t know what this is,” I panicked. “I’ve never seen this phone before. Someone put it in my pocket!”
“Who?” Mark chuckled bitterly. “Who would go to such lengths to set a trap for you? Chloe told me you often take calls in the bathroom. I didn’t believe her. But now the evidence is right here!”
“I was trying to protect you, Mark,” Chloe said, her voice choked with emotion. “I don’t want to hurt you. But she… she laughed at you behind your back. I can’t stay silent forever.”
I looked at my sister. She looked back at me, her eyes glistening with tears. A perfect performance. She’d been jealous of me since she was little. She wanted my life. And now, she wanted my man.
“Do you believe her?” I asked Mark, tears welling up. “You believe a piece of junk phone more than the woman you’ve lived with for five years?”
“Get out,” Mark said, turning away. “I need to think. You’re out of my house tonight.”
I looked at Mark, then at Chloe. She was nestled against him, gently stroking his arm.
I didn’t beg. I didn’t scream. The injustice had turned into a cold block of ice in my heart.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll go. But Mark, you’ll regret your stupidity.”
I picked up my bag and walked out of the hotel.
Chapter 3: The Innocent Man’s Investigation
My two days at the hotel were two days I became a detective. I’m not one to be easily intimidated. I’m a pharmacist; I’m used to analyzing data and finding the root cause.
I knew Chloe wasn’t smart enough to leave no trace.
I logged into the family’s shared Amazon account (which Mark had forgotten to change the password for). I looked at the purchase history.
Nothing unusual.
But I remembered Chloe had a secondary account. I’d helped her recover her password before. I tried logging in. She hadn’t changed the password.
And I found it.
A purchase receipt from three weeks ago: “Nokia prepaid phone – with activated SIM.”
I took a screenshot. But that wasn’t enough. Mark would say it was just a coincidence.
I needed something more forceful. I needed to know what had happened in my house while I was away.
I opened the Smart Home app on my phone. Mark had revoked my access to the living room security camera and sent…
He was coming and going.
But he forgot one thing.
The pet camera I’d installed in Luna’s bedroom. It was tiny, mounted on a tall bookshelf, with a wide-angle view that covered the entire second-floor hallway.
I held my breath as I accessed my cloud storage.
I rewound the videos from the past week.
And I saw a scene that made my stomach churn.
Thursday, 2:00 PM. (While I was at work.)
Chloe came out of my bedroom. She was wearing my red silk dress. She paced back and forth in front of the hallway mirror, spraying my perfume.
Then she took out her flip phone, typed a text message, and slipped it into the pocket of my coat hanging on the rack.
But the next video, at 3:00 PM, was what killed me.
Mark came home early. He went upstairs.
He met Chloe in the hallway. She was still wearing my dress.
They weren’t talking like siblings. Mark moved closer, putting his arm around Chloe’s waist. And Chloe… she kissed him. A passionate kiss.
Mark didn’t push her away. He kissed her back.
Then they went into Chloe’s bedroom. The door closed.
I dropped my phone onto the bed.
Mark wasn’t the victim of the deception.
Mark was an accomplice.
He had an affair with my sister. But he was a coward. He didn’t dare leave me because this house was jointly owned, and I was paying most of the down payment. He wanted me to be the one at fault. He wanted to play the victim to gain an advantage in the property division or to force me to leave empty-handed because of guilt.
The whole charade about the phone and the “Big D” lover was written by Chloe, and Mark happily played along to get rid of me.
The pain turned into rage. I wiped away my tears.
Fine. You want to put on a show? I’ll give you the biggest stage.
Chapter 4: The Reveal Party
Sunday. Mark hosted a BBQ party at home. He invited my parents and our mutual friends. He told everyone he wanted to announce some “sad news” and seek comfort from his family. He intended to publicly expose my “affair” to legitimize kicking me out.
I arrived at 6 p.m., when the party was at its peak.
I wore my brightest red dress and had sharp makeup. I walked into the garden like a queen, not a criminal.
“Sarah?” My mother exclaimed in surprise. “Mark told you…”
“Mark told me to run away with him, right, Mom?” I laughed loudly, walking to the middle of the garden.
Mark’s face turned pale. Chloe hid behind him, her eyes filled with fear.
“What are you doing here?” Mark hissed. “You’re no longer welcome.”
“This is still my house, Mark,” I said loudly. “And I’m here to show everyone the ‘proof of infidelity’ you were talking about.”
“Don’t make a fuss,” Mark tried to push me away. “Do you want me to show that phone to your parents?”
“Oh yes, please show it,” I challenged.
Mark hesitated. He hadn’t expected me to be so assertive. He pulled out his flip phone, holding it up like a trophy. “Here! She texted some Big D guy!”
Everyone murmured. My father looked at me disappointedly.
I took out my phone and connected it to the large 85-inch TV screen outside showing football.
“Everyone,” I said into the karaoke microphone. “Mark was right. There’s a traitor in this house. And let’s see who it is.”
I pressed Play.
The video from Pet Cam played clearly on the 4K screen.
Chloe wearing my dress.
Chloe secretly slipping a phone into my pocket.
And then… Mark and Chloe passionately kissing in the hallway.
A collective gasp of shock rang out from the 30 guests. My mother dropped her plate. My father jumped up, his face flushed.
The audio was also clearly recorded on the screen.
Chloe’s voice: “When are you going to kick her out? I’m tired of sneaking around.”
Mark’s voice: “Soon, darling. The fake phone incident will leave her with no face to stay. I’ll get the house, and we’ll be free.”
The video ended. The entire garden fell silent. Only the sizzling of the meat on the grill could be heard.
Mark stood frozen, his face drained of color. He looked at me, then at my parents, his lips moving but unable to utter a word.
Chloe collapsed onto the chair, sobbing. “No…it’s not what everyone thinks…”
“Not?” I stepped forward and slapped Chloe hard across the face. SLAP!
“You’re my sister. I let you stay when you had nowhere else to go. And you repay me by sleeping with my husband and fabricating stories about my infidelity?”
I turned to Mark.
“And you. You’re a coward. You want to break up? Fine. But you intend to steal my house and tarnish my reputation? Your biggest mistake was thinking I was stupid.”
I pulled a file from my bag.
“This is the lawsuit,” I threw it at Mark’s chest. “I’m suing you for fraud and defamation. With this video, you’ll leave empty-handed. This house is mine. The deposit is mine. You’re only listed as a co-owner because I pity you.”
“And Chloe,” I looked down at my trembling sister. “Pack your things. Immediately. I’m giving you 10 minutes before I call the police and report you for trespassing and harassment.”
Chapter One: The End
Mark and Chloe were kicked out of the house that very night, in front of all our friends and relatives, who were ostracized. My parents disowned Chloe.
Mark lost his job because his reputation was ruined (I sent the video to his boss – who hated lies).
Two months later, I sat on the porch, drinking coffee and stroking my cat Luna.
I had won the lawsuit. The house was completely mine.
I heard that Mark and Chloe were living in a dilapidated apartment in the suburbs. They argued all the time. A relationship built on deception and cruelty would never have a good ending.
I looked at the tiny security camera on the bookshelf.
“Thank you, Luna,” I smiled at the cat. “You’re the best spy in the world.”
I had lost a lover and a sister, but I had regained my self-respect and my own strength. The truth, however painful, is always better than living in a lie.
And from now on, in this house, there will be no place for two-faced people. Only me, Luna, and the truth.
