Blocked and Unbothered

Two patrol officers entered the veterinary clinic within ten minutes. Tessa pulled up the cloud storage application on her smartphone, handing the screen over along with the newly printed radiographs of Roxy's chest and abdomen. The officers took one look at the rows of needles glowing white against the dark film, exchanged grim glances, and moved toward the waiting area.

Tessa's boyfriend started sputtering excuses the moment metal clicked around his wrists. "Officer, this is a domestic dispute! She set me up! That crazy girl claims she talks to dogs!"

The lead officer shoved him forward without a word. "Save it for the station. The footage speaks for itself."

Harper watched them drag the man through the glass doors. She knelt by Roxy's gurney, stroking the pit bull mix between the ears until Roxy's rapid pulse settled into a steady rhythm. Tessa wiped her tears, thanking Harper repeatedly before the clinic staff wheeled Roxy back into surgery to extract the needles.

Harper stepped out of the clinic into the late afternoon breeze, with Gunner trotting faithfully at her heel. Her pocket buzzed with an incoming call. She pulled out the phone and saw Arthur Kensington’s name flashing on the screen.

Her expression did not change. Without a second thought, she pressed decline, opened her contact settings, and added the number to her block list. Then she systematically blocked her mother, her older brother Harry, and every secondary line tied to the Kensington estate.

Across town, the atmosphere in the Kensington living room was suffocating. Martha Higgins sat on an upholstered stool near the marble fireplace, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. She had spent the last twenty minutes spinning a tearful tale about Harper's departure, painting herself as a devoted servant assaulted and humiliated by an unruly ingrate.

Arthur Kensington paced the Persian rug, clutching his phone with white knuckles. He dialed Harper's number for the fourth time, only to be met with the flat, automated tone of an operator telling him the line was unavailable.

Harry lowered his own phone with a scowl. "She blocked my number, too. And Mom's."

Arthur slammed his phone onto the side table so hard the mahogany wood creaked. "Figures. She has that vulgar village attitude with zero class or gratitude. We brought her back to high society, and she acts like a rabid stray."

Chloe stepped forward from the hallway, her head down and her lashes damp with fresh tears. She dropped to her knees beside Arthur’s armchair, resting a delicate hand on his arm.

Chloe looked up through glistening eyes. "Mom, Dad, Harry, please don't be angry with Harper. If my biological parents hadn't caused this mess twenty years ago, Harper would never have been raised in the countryside. She wouldn't resent us like this."

Arthur’s face softened as he patted Chloe's head. "Chloe, stop blaming yourself for sins that aren't yours. You are the real victim here. If anyone owes an apology, it's us to you, not the other way around."

Chloe pressed a hand against her chest and sniffled, looking deeply moved. "I don't care about apologies. From now on, I will try extra hard to please Harper. I will endure whatever insults she throws my way if it keeps our family peaceful."

The sheer selflessness in her voice struck a chord with everyone in the room. Arthur felt an ache in his chest, his paternal instincts flaring into fierce protection. Both girls shared his bloodline or his roof, yet Chloe was a gentle angel while Harper was venomous and spiteful. The sweeter Chloe sounded, the deeper Arthur’s disgust for his biological daughter grew.

On the other side of the city, Harper unlocked the door to her modest two-bedroom apartment. The flat was bright, quiet, and her own private space, bought with savings from her early acting gigs.

The moment the heavy deadbolt clicked shut, Gunner lost his mind with joy. For months at the Kensington mansion, he had been chained outside in a cramped, drafty doghouse on the lawn, forbidden from stepping onto the manicured carpets. Here, there were no chains. Gunner let out a series of ecstatic yips, dashed down the hallway, and leaped straight onto the velvet sofa. He buried his tri-colored snout into the cushions, kicked his back paws into the air, and rolled back and forth to mark his sovereign domain.

Harper watched him with a faint smile, though a dull ache twinged in her chest. She grabbed her tablet from the side table, unlocked it, and pulled up an online boutique selling custom pet apparel. She propped the device against a pillow in front of Gunner.

Harper stroked his broad head. "Go ahead and pick whatever catches your eye. I'm going to take a shower."

Gunner cocked his head, his brilliant sapphire eyes widening as his paw tapped the glass. To his astonishment, the colorful images shifted. He let out a muffled bark of discovery, sat upright, and began tapping the screen with intense concentration.

Harper walked into the bathroom and turned the shower knobs. Hot water poured from the overhead nozzle, filling the small room with thick steam.

She stripped off her sweat-soaked clothes and stood before the full-length mirror. Across the right side of her waist ran a jagged, puckered surgical scar. It looked stark against her pale skin—an ugly, twisted souvenir from her past life. Back then, her biological mother had suffered sudden liver failure, and Harper had willingly climbed onto the operating table to donate a portion of her own organ. She had endured months of agonizing recovery just to win a warm glance from the family that claimed to love her. In return, they had treated her as an expendable spare part, discarding her the second Chloe shed a few crocodile tears.

Harper closed her eyes as the scalding water washed over the scar. The pain in her body was long gone, replaced by a cold, unyielding clarity. She would never bleed for them again.

Harper wrapped herself in a plush white bathrobe, dried her damp hair with a towel, and walked back into the living room.

Gunner was still glued to the tablet, carefully swiping through fleece vests and padded harnesses with his right paw. He paused and tilted his ears toward Harper, letting out a soft whine of greeting.

Before Harper could inspect his selections, her smartphone buzzed against the coffee table. The caller ID flashed Diane Fowler.

Harper tapped speakerphone.

Diane did not even wait for a greeting before screaming into the receiver. "Harper, why the hell haven't you answered my calls all day? Do you think you're some untouchable A-list diva now? Have you looked at your social engagement metrics lately? You're scraping the bottom of the barrel. If you don't want to work, just pack your bags and get lost already—"

Harper spoke with icy detachment. "Fine by me. I quit."

The line fell silent for three whole seconds.

Diane let out a sharp, incredulous screech. "What did you just say?"

Gunner’s ears pinned back against his skull. Sensing the hostility in the voice, the husky abandoned the tablet and jumped down, planting himself in front of Harper with a low, protective rumble in his throat.

Harper rested a calming hand on his neck. "My three-year management contract ends next month. I have no intention of renewing it."

Her tone was firm and steady. She had entered the entertainment industry solely to match Chloe’s celebrity status, desperately chasing the validation of parents who never cared about her existence. That pathetic need was dead.

Diane chuckled nervously, convinced Harper was throwing a tantrum over recent rejections. Her voice shifted into a patronizing, sugary lilt. "Come on, Harper, don't be childish. Are you still bitter because I handed the Becker audition to Chloe? Chloe has more commercial appeal right now, that's all. If you behave, I can pitch you for another supporting role next week."

Harper cut her off. "Save the pitch for someone else. Have my termination paperwork ready on the first of next month."

Harper reached toward the screen to hang up.

Diane shouted in panic. "Don't you dare hang up on me! Listen here, Harper, the agency just signed you onto OasisCrest Live. You majored in animal science, so the production team specifically requested you as Chloe's companion guest. You are doing this show, and you will stay out of Chloe's way on camera."

Harper’s hand froze midair.

*OasisCrest Live*.

The name sent a spike of cold electricity down her spine. In her previous life, that variety show had been the very epicenter of her destruction. Chloe had used the live broadcast to frame Harper for abusing an endangered animal, turning the entire nation against her overnight. The public outrage had destroyed Harper's career, leading to relentless cyberbullying, canceled contracts, and ruin.

Diane mistook Harper's silence for surrender and let out a smug scoff. "If you refuse to shoot the episodes, that counts as a willful breach. The contract stipulates a ten-million-dollar penalty payable within forty-eight hours. So you either pack your bags for OasisCrest, or you write a check right now. Your choice."

Harper’s eyes narrowed into twin daggers of ice. A dark resolve settled over her.

Harper replied coldly. "I'll do the show. And just so we are clear, this entire phone call was recorded. You better have my release forms ready to sign the day my contract expires."

Harper ended the call before Diane could reply.

She stared down at the dark screen, her fingers tightening around the glass. *OasisCrest Live* had once been her slaughterhouse. But this time around, with her beast-taming abilities and the truth on her side, she would turn that live stage into Chloe’s total downfall.