The men looked like they were going to war with the furniture. Their boss hollering orders at them from his spot at the head of the staircase with his writing pad tapping a silent beat on his thigh. It had taken forever to remove all the furniture and carefully wrap them in plastic. They wanted to finish painting the rooms before the week was done, so they hired some extra help to aid with heavy lifting.

Emilia and her mom had called in family and friends to help with the painting, most especially. Shantel had driven Cassandra to Harrison's house after both women had spent all morning figuring out what to wear. They were late, but at least they ended up with their overalls and a plain black sweatshirt underneath them. When they arrived, Cassandra met with over ten people who came over to help under the veil of friendship. That was the one thing Harrison wasn't short on. Friends.

The plan was to repaint all the rooms with different colours to match the new furniture. Even the pool, which Cassandra had never seen before, was to be redecorated with new furniture. With her hair pushed into a band, Cassandra waved goodbye to the men as they drove off then went into the mansion after her friend.

Harrison's home was nothing like Cassandra's, well the change would give it more style, but it was still nothing like her home. While her home was tall and compact in width, his was short and spacious in width. The colours of the interior were darker, mainly blood red, grey or black and white. It was odd if anything. Everything about Harrison was conveniently coloured, from his dressing to his choice of gifts and even his words. Yet, his house was the opposite. She wasn't surprised; he wasn't the one who designed the house.

She pushed her fingers through Shantel's, and they began to move to where Emilia and her mother stood. She stepped into their kisses before pulling back to smile at each of them. "Morning."

"Ah, thanks for coming so early. The work would be finished by the end of the week. I just want to get it started and over with."

Her response was a smile; she really didn't want to be painting, but she did need the distraction from the dark side her mind kept turning to. More and more things popped up about Josephine each day, but the woman herself never seemed to pop up at all. Cassandra tried everything, looking online at all her sites, hiring an investigator to get information. Even went as far as questioning her parents, an act that didn't go well for anyone. They were equally as disillusioned by all she had done. Josephine had dropped off the grid, and Cassandra realised she was just stressing herself out by trying to find her.

"Which room is ours?" Shantel asked, her head moving up and down as she took in the whole house. No doubt that she found it as amazing as Cassandra had. The house was built to impress, that was for sure. Quite unlike Cassandra, Shantel had no trouble voicing her awe at the mansion.

"Your home is mind-blowing."

Emilia smiled with pride and nodded as she walked them towards the paint cans that lined the floors. "My husband bought it before we got married. He wanted a home for our family, and he wanted it to be absolutely perfect for the kids and grandkids. Sadly, the decorations were picked by his mother, and it stuck for too long."

"Still. More colour, new decorations, and it would be the palace it was meant to be."

More people came in after an hour had passed, Rosa Clara, one of Harrison's oldest friends, travelled all the way from her home to help them with their painting. Mark was also present, and her Uncle Ruben came as well, more for emotional support than designing, to keep her mother company. Julia and Maria couldn't make it because they had work to do at the office, but they opted by volunteering to plan his coming home party as soon as he was discharged.

Her mom hugged Uncle Ruben, and she rushed over to join in, laughing when he tugged at her hair. "Very happy to see you as well, my dear. I visited the hospital some time ago thinking you were there, but I got redirected."

"Yeah, well, there were some decision making, and we all decided to do something other than mourning around like Harrison is dead. We wanted to step out for a second and do something to clear our mind."

Ruben brushed her hair with his fingers and cupped her face with a smile. "I am happy you are taking things easy because it would not be healthy for you to do otherwise. No matter what happens, try not to lose yourself."

"Of course, uncle. I am taking things easy and thinking deeply about things now that I seem to have the time."

They set off after that, sharing the paint between themselves and picking their rooms. Shantel and Cassandra hauled six cans of paint to the hall that had been stripped bare earlier. Plastics lined the floors, so they pushed their feet out of their shoes and marched around the room. Her fingers ran over the walls as she took in the feel of the walls while Shantel connected her phone to the speaker she brought and started to play some music.

"I need a room like this in my home." Shantel mooned as she began to move to the rhythm of the song. Cassandra plopped herself on the floor, surrounded by cans of paint that she began to pop open.

When she was young, her father had asked her to redecorate her room by herself, so it looked how she wanted it to. Now she had experience with more than just painting. Her heart sunk as she remembered how she also had to work, redecorating the garden that Josephine had burned down the same day she sent Harrison to the hospital. Cassandra knew about her track record with bringing down competition, but she never made an enemy as thick as Josephine.

Through high school, she only crossed paths with her a handful of times. They didn't speak more than three words to each other; they ran in different circles. Yet, for the rotten luck of dating the same man, she couldn't get the bitter woman out of her life. Cassandra snapped the paint can open with more force than necessary, muttering under her breath as some paint splashed around.

"Hey?" Shantel called after a while, and she stopped dancing. "If you treat all the cans with that level of delicacy, we might as well start painting the floors. Come on, am done playing, so let's grab a brush and get to work."

No time for a reply, Cassandra stretched her hand up and Shantel helped her to her feet before they went rushing for brushes. Dipping the brush into the can of paint, they picked the sides of the room to start with and began to paint.

As expected, three hours into the painting, her face and hair were stained with blue paint. Their overalls got the worse of it; with the paint smudged and settled into the material, there would be no easy way of washing it out. Shantel was worse; she was soaked in paint but still seemed to look joyous.

"Come over here. Look at you Shantel, are you are painting the walls or painting yourself?"

Laughing, she grabbed her friend and dragged her out of the room, leading her downstairs so she could at least wash her face. Before they got past the kitchen doors, her phone buzzed in the pocket, so she moved away to answer the call.

Jacob promised to keep her informed on everything that happened with Harrison while she was away from the hospital. He spoke with Harrison's doctor and nurses so she could have more information on his health. Jacob kept her in the know, so she wasn't pensive all the time; he was always putting her health first. That was never changing. He still checked up on her regularly to make sure she was serious with taking her pills.

"Hello, Jacob."

The phone was silent for a while, but then his voice came through before her heart could miss a beat. "Sorry, yes, hello, Cassandra. I was calling to update you on Harrison before you lose your senses over the silence."

"Tell me."

"Not much change outwardly, but you'd be happy to know that he has been taken off the breathing apparatus. He is doing all the breathing by himself. According to the doctor, the trauma his lung received after the accident is healed. They are hoping he could exercise his lung muscles by breathing by himself. There has been no change from his brain activity, but the doctors are hopeful that he would keep improving."

Her hand fluttered to her chest, turning; she smiled at a peeping Shantel then returned to her phone call. "Thank goodness. I hope there is nothing more than the doctors are concerned about."

"I don't think so. Hopefully, no other complications will arise, but I just want you to keep your cool through all of it. Remember to also take care of yourself through all this, make sure you are keeping a healthy diet, taking your pills and receiving enough sleep."

"Thank you. Please be safe."

She shoved the phone back down her pocket and rushed into the kitchen to continue helping Shantel with her face and hands. Making sure her hands were clean from paint, she dried them and went to get some lemonade from the fridge, the only appliance in the house that was not moved. A maid strutted in just as they got their seats, her dress splattered with some paint with a white envelope in her hands.

"Good morning to you, madam. This was found at the door by the security with your name on it but no address."

Confusion settled in as she eyed the envelope with curious interest. She pushed up from her seat then took the letter. It had her name written in fine ink across the surface of the envelope. Shantel stood as well and turned to look at the envelope. With a knife in hand, Cassandra tore through the seal then yanked out sheets of pink paper. Unfolding them, she spread them out on the counter with the maid and Shantel by her side, she started reading.

Cassandra,

I have been seeing the news, and I know there is a 'hunt' on for me. How fitting, isn't it? To make me the monster in this story when you are the one that took everything away from me. You ruined my life the moment you got into Harrison's life; you pushed me away from him and took advantage of all my mistakes to stop him from forgiving me.

He always liked fragile things, so he tried to protect you. Back in Himont, he pushed you down from the bullet, giving himself to be shot in the process. After he kissed you in the restaurant for the first time, who do you think made sure that no other news of you was printed? Harrison did. He agreed to be your fake friend just to get closer to you, bent to your every will. Took Harrison being in your life even when that meant he had to absorb all your frustration and still give you joy. Harrison only saw you as a fragile doll; he needed to protect, nothing more.

How am I the monster just because I needed him to be...

She had read enough. Blood boiling in her system, she marched to the bin, ripping the rest of the pages, scrunching the pieces together and throwing them away. Everyone looked at her with a raised brow, but she waved their concern away and bent to pick up a painting brush. She found a bare wall and began to paint over it, trying not to dwell too much on Josephine's pathetic letter. The woman was demented and out of touch with reality. The only person that would be crazier than Josephine would be someone who fell for her lies, and Cassandra refused to be that person.

Harrison loved her, and she believed him more than she would believe someone like Josephine. For now, she was still on the loose, but Cassandra had faith that they would meet again, and she would be able to have the pleasure of seeing the prison bars locking her in.