But every single time, Sabina had shut me down with that sharp, authoritative tone of hers.
"Stop making a scene! Digging into this isn't helping her. You're only going to cause secondary trauma!"
Now, staring at the surveillance footage on my screen, watching Sabina tangled up with Eustace, the two of them bursting through the supply room door in a frenzy, my chest seized with a pain I couldn't control.
So it was true. Exactly what I'd suspected all along.
Eustace had never been assaulted. He'd been having an affair with her.
I dragged the video timeline forward, and something unbelievable flashed across the screen.
My pupils blew wide.
After a long silence, a bitter laugh tore out of me before I could stop it.
Sabina.
Did you have any idea that your self-righteous "protection" had made you someone else's fall guy?
My phone chimed relentlessly with Sabina's messages urging me to hurry. I buried the storm inside me and typed back a calm reply.
"Fine. I'll be there."
I wasn't going to clear their names. I was going to deliver the hardest blow of their lives.
When I arrived at the wedding venue, every pair of eyes that landed on me dripped with mockery and contempt.
The moment Mrs. Simmons spotted me, she marched straight over and spat at my feet. "You disgusting piece of trash! You're the one who ruined my son! Why don't you just drop dead!"
She and a handful of other loud, vicious relatives grabbed at my clothes, tearing at the fabric, each one calling me trash, worthless, garbage, until security finally pried them off me.
I ignored every word. I straightened my clothes and walked inside.
The ceremony was about to begin. The hall was packed with guests, and media crews lined the walls with their cameras.
I knew exactly what Sabina had planned. She wanted to use this occasion to cement the narrative she'd spun online, to prove her and Eustace's innocence in front of everyone.
The moment Sabina saw me walk in, a look of smug relief settled across her face, as if everything was going exactly according to plan.
She strolled over with practiced ease and took my hand.
"See? Would it have killed you to just cooperate from the start? Why did you have to push things to where they went last night?"
"I already sent the bracelet out for restoration. I promise it'll come back looking exactly like it did before."
She pulled out a folded sheet of paper and pressed it into my hand.
"Just read this when you get up there. It'll be over before you know it. After the wedding, I'll come home and spend time with you, okay? And later, I'll buy you a plane ticket. You can go abroad for a few years, lie low. Three years. Then I'll come find you, and we'll get married."
I glanced down at the paper. Every line was a confession, detailing how I'd been consumed by unrequited love and jealousy, how I'd orchestrated the harassment of Eustace Simmons out of spite.
If I read this aloud, I'd be finished. My reputation would be obliterated. I'd become a pariah no one would touch.
I ripped the paper to shreds and flung the pieces in her face.
White scraps fluttered through the air, framing the ugly shock twisting her expression.
I strode up the steps to the stage and signaled the technician I'd already paid off to play the backstage surveillance footage from that day.
I faced the crowd and raised my voice.
"Ladies and gentlemen! I am indeed here to set the record straight!"
"But what I'm about to clarify is this: who is the REAL person responsible for what happened to Eustace Simmons!"
