I thought the truth would finally set me free.
But what I got wasn't my adoptive parents coming to their senses.
Instead, Gerard hired someone to produce evidence that the audio recording was a fabricated AI edit.
He even told everyone I had a severe mental illness.
Then he deleted every precious piece of footage I'd captured over thousands of days and nights since I first picked up a camera.
Including every shot I'd ever taken of him.
He said that as long as any of it existed, it would destroy Leila beyond redemption.
I became a pariah. Classmates shunned me. Teachers looked at me with contempt.
When the school expelled me, he said to me:
"She's pitiful. She's already on the verge of a breakdown. I can't destroy the last thing she has left, so I have no choice but to let you take the fall."
I asked him, my voice raw and hoarse:
"Have you forgotten what she did to me? So you don't love me anymore, is that it?"
He recoiled like a cornered animal.
"Of course I love you! But can you stop dragging up ancient history? Everyone makes mistakes. She's not some monster!"
That day, I finally understood.
The person who played hero for me could just as easily play hero for someone else.
An hour before Leila's flight, I saw her on the TV in the psychiatric ward, being interviewed by reporters.
She was radiant, beaming, nothing like the withdrawn girl I'd first met.
Standing beside her was Gerard, gazing at her with open devotion.
How perfectly matched they looked. It cut through me like glass.
Even my adoptive parents came to tell me to stop trying to ruin them. To just let it go. To consider it good karma.
I lay on the hospital bed, staring at the empty ceiling.
I thought about who I'd been at seven years old. Owning nothing, yet so happy.
And then I jumped from the fourth floor.
I didn't die. On the way down, I hit a tree. It broke my fall just enough.
But the impact to my abdomen was severe. The doctors said I might never be able to carry a child.
While I drifted in and out of consciousness, I heard my adoptive parents urging Gerard to call off the engagement and just be with Leila.
He refused. Sharply.
"No. I have to marry her. It's the only way to keep her under control and clear the path for Leila."
So when I woke up, I didn't hesitate for a single second.
I severed the tendon in my right hand.
What I could no longer do, I would rather destroy than let anyone else take from me.
Once they realized I was useless, they stopped visiting.
I cut every last tie to all of them.
And I went north. Alone.
The year after I left, Gerard and Leila got together.
Not long after that, I met Clarence Gilbert.
And I started a new life.
As for what Gerard called "stalking his social media"—
I'd stumbled across one post by accident. It looked familiar, so I tapped on it.
After that, his content kept appearing no matter how many times I blocked it. Like gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe.
I gripped my phone, my brow knotted tight.
A small hand reached up and smoothed the crease between my eyebrows.
"Mommy, Mommy! What are you thinking about?"
Before I could answer, a larger, warmer hand settled over the same spot.
"What's got you so lost in thought? Benny Abbott's been calling you forever."
I looked up at the gentle face of the man in front of me.
Then I handed him my phone, the chat log still on screen.
After a long moment, he let out a quiet scoff.
"Unbelievable. These days, apparently anyone can call themselves an ex. Sit tight. Tomorrow night, your husband's going to put on a show."
He used my name to create a class reunion group chat and had his assistant organize a get-together.
He also made sure the invitation was personally passed along to Gerard and Leila.
Inside the private dining room, I sat at the head of the table, making small talk with old classmates.
Then a low, tense murmur drifted in from outside the door.
I walked over and opened it.
Leila's pinched expression melted instantly into something soft. She hurried to loop her arm through Gerard's, who stood frozen beside her.
