The Birthday Banquet Betrayal

The phone screen suddenly lit up. I glanced over; it was a message from an unknown number. The message was crude and flirtatious, clearly meant to taunt. There was a blue link at the end. I furrowed my brow, a trace of discomfort stirring in my chest. After a few seconds of hesitation, curiosity pushed me to click the link. The page loaded—a forum I didn't recognize. The pinned post's title stood out sharply: "Private Exposure: Mother and Daughter Together." My heart tightened; a bad feeling washed over me. My fingers trembled as I scrolled down. The next moment, I felt my blood run cold. The post contained... private videos and photos of Mom and me. All those scenes were filmed inside my own room. Some were scenes of me changing clothes, others were private moments of Mom helping me fix my hair. I covered my mouth, struggling hard to keep myself from screaming out loud. Fear and anger crashed over me like a tidal wave. Who? Who could be so malicious to film this stuff and post it online? I forced myself to calm down and carefully examined the post's publisher and the comments. The comment section had exploded, flooded with all kinds of indecent remarks. Some speculated about our identity, while others mocked us with filthy words. I stared closely at the publisher's ID, trying to find any clue. Just then, a new comment appeared. "Just wait—there's even more shocking stuff planned for the Birthday Party to utterly ruin her!" I felt like I recognized the account that posted the comment. I searched my memory hard and suddenly remembered that the profile picture looked a lot like one of Charles Quentin's old alternate accounts. Charles Quentin? Why would he do something like this? And the Birthday Party? My Birthday Party is coming up next week. They said they want to ruin me completely—what exactly do they mean? I also recalled two other names: Leon Carter and Ryan Zamora. The four of us have been childhood friends since we were little. Back then, they were always really nice to me, always thinking of me whenever they had something good. But in the past two years, their attitude toward me has grown colder— even hostile. Could this matter involve all three of them? I didn't want to believe it, but the doubt in my heart kept growing heavier. Trembling, I picked up my phone and dialed Charles Quentin's number. The phone rang for a long time before someone finally answered. "Hey, what's up?" Charles's voice had a hint of impatience. "Was it you who posted that forum thread?" I tried to keep my voice steady. There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds. Then, Charles sneered, "So what if it was? What if it wasn't?" Hearing him admit it, the last shred of hope in my heart vanished. "Why? Weren't we supposed to be good friends? Why would you do this to me and my mom?" My voice involuntarily quivered with tears. "Good friends?" Charles's voice sharpened, "Friends? You think you deserve to be one of us? Have you forgotten how you stole Claire Sinclair's place?" Claire Sinclair? I froze for a moment when I heard that name. Claire Sinclair was sent back to her original family when I was ten. That year, my dad took me back to the Sinclair family, making me the rightful eldest daughter. As for Claire, since she wasn't my dad's biological daughter, she was sent back to her birth parents. So they've been holding a grudge against me all this time because of that.