On my wedding day, Nolan Fox personally sent me to prison.
The next time I saw him was at a construction site, ten years later.
His longtime secretary recognized me immediately, barely containing her excitement:
"Ms. Harding, everyone's been waiting for you two to reconcile!"
The words had barely left her mouth when Nolan stepped out of a black Jeep.
One look from him, and everyone on site instinctively lowered their heads.
His eyes lingered on me for a long moment, as if he had a thousand things to say.
But in the end, all that came out was a mild greeting:
"Corinne. It's been a while."
I shifted the bag of sand on my shoulder. My expression didn't change.
Back then, the exam papers in my custody had been swapped.
Twelve students lost their futures. Three took their own lives.
Grief-stricken parents set fire to my home—and burned half my face with it.
My parents were so furious they coughed up blood in their sickbeds, swearing to disown me.
No one knew I'd been framed.
And no one knew that the man who forced me to take the fall, who pushed me into that abyss with his own hands—
—was the devoted ex-husband standing right in front of me.
——
Edward Whitney, the site foreman, hurried over to Nolan, rubbing his hands together obsequiously:
"Principal Fox! Having you visit our little site is truly an honor!"
When he spotted me crouching on the ground laying bricks, he shouted in my direction:
"Corinne Harding! Get over here and greet Principal Fox!"
"This man runs the best private academy in the city—you should count yourself lucky to even see him!"
My grip on the brick tightened. My nails dug into my palm, but I didn't look up.
The county reporters who'd come with Nolan swarmed around me, microphones practically shoved in my face:
"Ms. Harding, you were once the youngest teacher to win a teaching excellence award. Now you're hauling bricks at a construction site. Do you feel wronged?"
"We've heard that Principal Fox kept your position at the private middle school open for ten years, and postponed his wedding to Ms. Cobb three times. Any comment?"
I ignored the barbed questions and kept laying bricks, but my fingers wouldn't stop trembling.
I knew Nolan's tactics all too well.
His gentleness had always been poison wrapped in sugar.
All I wanted was to stay as far from him as possible.
The standoff stretched on—until Nolan suddenly walked over and blocked the cameras with his tall frame.
"Our personal matters are none of your business. Back off."
He turned to me, his eyes churning with emotions I couldn't read:
"Corinne."
A pause. Then, again:
"It's been a while."
That familiar voice drove into my chest like a needle.
My hand slipped. The brick hit the ground with a clang.
Shards of debris sliced into my calf. Blood seeped through.
Nolan crouched down immediately, reaching for my wound. "How could you be so careless?"
I jerked back, scrambled to my feet, and turned to Edward.
"Sorry, boss. I'll clean this up. I'll pay for any damaged materials."
Just then, a soft, delicate voice drifted from the black Jeep:
"Nolan, why are you spending so much time talking to some worker? The school's waiting for us to start the meeting!"
Christine Cobb stepped out in a pale blue dress, naturally looping her arm through Nolan's and resting her head on his shoulder.
She was the one who'd swapped the exams ten years ago—the real culprit behind those students' deaths.
And now, she was the woman constantly at Nolan's side.
Behind her stood my parents—the same ones who'd cut me off a decade ago.
Christine looked me over, a mocking smile curling at the corner of her lips:
"Ms. Harding, I never imagined you'd end up like this."
"Oh, by the way—Isaac Harding and Victoria Dickerson have taken me in as their goddaughter now. So technically, I should be calling you 'big sister.'"
