THE FRIEND WHO STOLE MY DREAM
PART 1: THE MESSAGE THAT BROKE ME
I sat in the café across the street, staring at my phone with shaking hands.
The launch event for “Bloom” — the skincare brand I had spent three years building — was happening right now. Except my name was nowhere on it.
Sophie, my best friend of twelve years, was on stage smiling brightly, accepting all the praise. The product line, the packaging, even the name I had whispered to her late at night when we were broke and dreaming together… all hers now.
A text from her popped up:
Sophie: Sorry babe, business is business ❤️ You were too slow anyway.
Tears burned my eyes. I had trusted her with everything — the formulas, the investors, my savings. She had smiled, nodded, and stabbed me in the back the moment we got our first big investor meeting.
I wiped my face and dialed the only person I knew who could actually do something.
May you like
“Aunt Lena,” I said when she picked up. “She took it all.”
My aunt’s voice was ice-cold and calm.
“Give me thirty minutes. Stay exactly where you are.”
