Life After Death by Ice Cream

The line went dead before I could respond, leaving me with the weight of Zara's threat. I tossed the phone onto the bed and stared into the darkness, my mind spinning with way too many thoughts at once.

Before I could even start processing everything, the system jumped in.

[Well, that escalated quickly. One minute you're turning down her shopping trip, and the next, she's offering to take Elara out for good. Gotta say, Amara, your life has officially become a dumpster fire.]

"Yeah, thanks for the commentary," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "Because I really needed your input on how screwed up everything is."

[Hey, I'm just pointing out the obvious. It's not every day someone casually offers to 'handle' your problems for you. Good thing you're the hero in this mess. Otherwise, I'd say you missed out on a convenient solution.]

"Shut up," I groaned, flopping back on my bed. "I swear, ever since I landed in this world, it's been one giant dumpster fire. No, scratch that one giant dumpster fire on top of a trash mountain in the middle of a toxic waste zone."

[Oh, that's poetic. Got any more metaphors? Because I've got time.]

"I can't deal with this right now," I muttered, standing up. "I'm taking a shower and pretending none of this exists for, like, five minutes."

[Sure, that'll fix everything.]

Rolling my eyes, I headed into the bathroom. The hot water did its best to wash away the stress of the day, but of course, it couldn't cleanse the disaster that was now my life. I couldn't stop thinking about Elara, Eirik, and that whole mess with Zara. What was I supposed to do? How was I going to keep Elara safe without blowing my cover?

With no answers and even more questions, I dried off and threw on some pajamas. Tomorrow. I'd deal with it all tomorrow. For now, I was going to sleep and hope the universe didn't implode while I was out cold.

The next morning came way too fast. I was jolted awake by the same cheery, overly enthusiastic voice that had greeted me yesterday.

"Amaraaa! Time to get up!" My mom's voice echoed through the door, making me groan.

I buried my face in the pillow. "Kill me now."

[Oh, look. Your personal alarm clock is back. Aren't mornings just delightful?]

"Shut up," I hissed under my breath. Reluctantly, I dragged myself out of bed and threw open the closet. I needed something fast. Something that said, "I don't care," but also, "Yes, I am capable of being a functioning human."

I grabbed a pair of ripped jeans, an oversized black sweater, and combat boots. Not the most formal thing, but I wasn't trying to impress anyone.

[Wow, going for the 'I hate everything' look today? Bold choice.]

I rolled my eyes, slipping into the clothes. "I'm going for 'leave me alone, I'm dead inside.' Close enough."

[Mission accomplished. You look like you crawled out of a Hot Topic dumpster sale.]

"Perfect," I muttered, giving myself a quick once-over in the mirror before heading out the door. The sooner I could deal with whatever today's catastrophe was, the better.

When I got to the dining room, my parents were already seated at the table, waiting for me. But unlike yesterday, the mood wasn't light or cheerful. If anything, they looked… disappointed. Fantastic.

I sat down, trying to ignore the tension. Something was definitely off.

"Amara," my father started, his tone heavy, like he was about to deliver a lecture. "We need to talk."

Oh no. This couldn't be good.

"We've been thinking about something," my mom added, her voice more measured, but still with that you're-in-trouble edge. "About this girl. Elara."

My heart skipped a beat. Of course. They had no idea what was really going on with her, but clearly, they had their theories.

My dad sighed, looking at me like I'd just confessed to a major crime. "She's the girl we saw with Eirik the other day, isn't she? When we went shopping?"

Damn it. I'd almost forgotten about that. Of course, they remembered. They'd seen Eirik with her and now, of course, they were jumping to all the wrong conclusions.

"Dad, it's not—"

"Amara," he interrupted, his tone sharp. "We've seen this before. You've done things like this before."

"Like what?" I asked, genuinely confused and slightly insulted.

"Like trying to take something away from someone else just because you think it'll get you what you want," my mom said, giving me that all-knowing mom look. "We know you're trying to get Eirik's attention by bringing this Elara girl into the family business."

What?! "Are you kidding me?" I blurted out, barely able to keep from laughing at the absurdity of it. "That's not—"

"Amara," my dad said, his voice growing more serious. "We get it. You want Eirik's attention. But using some innocent girl to make him jealous? That's not how you should be handling things."

I stared at them, absolutely floored. This was what they thought? That I'd recruited Elara into the family business to what? Make Eirik jealous? As if I had the time or energy for that level of teenage drama!

"Are you seriously accusing me of… of that?!" I threw my hands up. "Elara's here because she's talented and smart and because it was a good business move! Not because I'm trying to get back at some guy!"

My mom sighed, clearly not convinced. "Honey, we know how much you liked Eirik, and we've seen the way you get when someone else catches his attention. This isn't the way to—"

"Oh my God, please stop," I cut her off, practically begging. "This has nothing to do with Eirik!"

[Except it totally does.] The system's voice chimed in, unhelpful as ever.

I ignored it. I couldn't deal with both my parents and the snarky AI in my head at the same time.

"Listen, I don't care about Eirik, okay?" I said, exasperated. "If he wants to be with Elara, fine! Good for them. I've got my own life to deal with, and it doesn't revolve around some guy I barely even know anymore."

My parents exchanged a look, clearly not buying it.

"Amara," my dad started again, "we just don't want to see you get hurt."

I groaned internally. Too late for that.

"I'm fine," I insisted, trying to keep my cool. "I'm not doing this to impress anyone or make anyone jealous. I'm just trying to make smart business decisions and fix some of the messes that have been piling up. Can we leave it at that?"

They didn't seem convinced, but they didn't press the issue any further. Thank God. The last thing I needed was to explain why I was really trying to keep Elara close and how it had nothing to do with Eirik and everything to do with the fact that, oh yeah, I had a secret mission to protect her from people like Zara who wanted to see her crash and burn.

The conversation ended with a heavy silence hanging in the air. I picked at my food, trying not to let the frustration boil over. This whole situation was one giant misunderstanding wrapped in a cluster of bad decisions, and now I was stuck trying to navigate it without blowing my cover.

Perfect. Just another day in the life of Amara Lyselle: corporate heiress, reluctant protector, and, apparently, expert in getting blamed for everything.