Lunch hour was always too loud for Sofia's liking—full of half-hearted jokes, crumpled napkins, and the clatter of teenage chaos. But today, the noise faded into the background as Sofia sat hunched over the table across from her best friend Naomi, eyes sharp with a quiet determination.
"She's flawless," Sofia said, her fingers curled around her juice box like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
Naomi frowned, halfway through a bite of her sandwich. "So? That's her crime?"
Sofia looked up. "That's not all. It's that she's fake. She's too perfect. Too sweet. Too…intentional."
Naomi chewed slowly. "Okay, so what do you want? For her to have a meltdown in the kitchen?"
Sofia's voice lowered. "Dad loves her. Way too much. He doesn't even see it. She's everywhere. Fixing the house, making breakfast, planning their stupid anniversary dinner—she's replacing my mom and pretending she's not."
Naomi raised a brow. "So what, you want to catch her cheating or something?"
Sofia paused. The silence stretched.
Naomi blinked. "Wait. You do."
A smile tugged at the corner of Sofia's mouth—small, cold, calculated. "Not catch. Create."
Naomi leaned in, intrigued and alarmed all at once. "What are you talking about?"
Sofia dropped her voice to a whisper. "What if I made a dating profile? As Harper. Just enough to make it look like she's looking for someone on the side."
Naomi's eyes widened. "You'd… catfish your own stepmother?"
"I'd frame her. There's a difference." Sofia's eyes gleamed. "Think about it. All I have to do is set it up right. Make it look like she's been talking to someone for weeks. Flirty messages. A little heat. Nothing over-the-top. Just enough to make Dad question her loyalty."
Naomi sat back, stunned. "Wow. You've officially gone full evil genius."
"She'll never suspect me," Sofia added. "She thinks I like her. I smile, I thank her for pancakes, I let her drive me to school. I'm playing the long game."
Naomi hesitated. "Isn't that… a little much? I mean, Harper hasn't actually done anything."
Sofia's jaw clenched. "She took everything. She slid into my life like she belonged here. And now she's living in my mom's house, in my mom's bedroom, making breakfast in her stupid lavender robe like she's won. My mom didn't leave—my dad chose to end it. And now I'm supposed to act like Harper's part of the family?"
Naomi fell quiet. She'd never seen Sofia like this. Focused. Icy.
"So," Sofia continued, her voice soft but sure, "I create a profile. Upload some photos I grab from her socials. Make the bio sound just right. Something like 'Looking for connection, something exciting… discreet.' Then I plant the proof—leave the site open on her laptop, or text a screenshot from a burner number. Dad sees it. Trust is gone. Game over."
Naomi blinked. "You've really thought this through."
Sofia leaned back in her chair, the ghost of a smile still lingering. "She wants to play perfect? Let's see how perfect she is when her world falls apart."