Another crime pinned on me. Made up out of thin air.
I didn't even have the strength left to argue.
No matter what I said, Stanley wouldn't hear a word of it.
A conversation I'd overheard in the stairwell a few days ago came back to me all at once. Stanley had said, "I trust her."
That "her" was, without question, Samantha.
So even if I hadn't pushed her, Stanley would still believe Samantha over me.
My heart sank, inch by inch, and the look I gave Stanley grew calmer and calmer.
Stanley caught my gaze, and something jolted in his chest. For one instant, a flash of panic told him the two of us were drifting further and further apart.
He came back to himself, his face grim as he stared at me. "Do you admit it or not?"
I curled my lip and said, with a sneer, "Whether I admit it or not, you've already passed your verdict, haven't you?"
"You—!" He was clearly furious.
Fair enough. This was the first time I'd ever talked back to him. No wonder he was this angry.
Before I found out Stanley had cheated, before I lost Sammy, I'd done everything he asked. Whatever he said, I obeyed.
"You won't repent even to the grave." His voice went cold. "Take her to the cold-storage room. Let her cool off and think hard about what she's done wrong."
I didn't resist. I let them lead me away.
The moment I stepped into the cold-storage room, I knew something was wrong.
A pair of green eyes glowed in the dark, fixed on me.
My heart stopped. Why was there an attack dog in here?!
It charged. I pounded on the door with everything I had, begging, "Help! Open the door! There's an attack dog in here!"
"You locked an attack dog in with me! Stanley, let me out! Somebody help!"
Its teeth clamped down on my calf and I sucked in a sharp breath at the pain. The cold storage was freezing. They'd put this dog in here on purpose. They wanted me dead, right here.
No.
I couldn't die here!
I hadn't gotten Sammy's ashes back yet!
I hadn't broken free of the Vance family for good!
I lifted my arm and swung at the dog's head, wild and clumsy, the arc shrinking with every blow as my body stiffened in the cold.
The dog let go, looking for a fresh spot to tear into.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted an icicle frozen along the doorframe. No time to think. I grabbed it and drove it into the dog.
It bit into my arm first, but I felt nothing. I just kept stabbing with the icicle, again and again, blood spraying everywhere. I didn't care.
Not until the dog went completely still. And the door opened, right then.
I saw the worried look on Stanley's face.
The strain of it all and the body I'd run into the ground sent me crashing into the dark.
When I woke again, Stanley was sitting by the bed, eyes shut, feigning sleep, dark circles bruising under them.
I was just about to get up and pour myself some water when he startled awake first. Seeing me awake, his voice carried a note of reproach. "You're up. Why didn't you call me? Didn't you always order me around when you were sick before?"
He poured me a glass of water. I didn't refuse it.
Once my throat felt a little better, I spoke. "Where are Sammy's ashes?"
His eyes flickered. He set the glass down and explained, "That dog the other day was one I'd just bought. The help wasn't watching it for a second, and it got loose into the cold storage."
"But don't worry, I've already dealt with the beast. I only meant to lock you in for a few minutes. Are you feeling any discomfort right now?"
Watching him fuss like this, anxious and on edge, I felt almost like I was back in the early days, when Stanley and I were head over heels for each other.
Because of my parents, I'd grown up starved for love, drowning in low self-worth. It was Stanley who appeared and lit up my gray little life.
That day, I'd just gotten out of class and was heading off to eat when a basketball came flying at me. In the split second before it hit, Stanley threw himself forward, shielding me with his body.
He turned and asked, full of concern, "Hey, you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"
That was the first time I'd ever tasted what it felt like to be cared for and respected.
After that, I fell for Stanley, hopelessly, unstoppably.
Under my relentless pursuit, Stanley agreed to be with me. Only later did I learn that he'd been about to come ask for my number that day. He just happened to see the ball coming at me, and so, as naturally as anything, we met.
Once we were together, Stanley took such good care of me. He even bought that basketball, swaggering as he said, "This is Cupid's Orb. It's what brought the two of us together. We've got to put it on a pedestal."
Back then I laughed at how childish he was, but inside, I felt warm all over.
The instant my thoughts came back to the present, I heard the words that dropped me straight into an ice pit.
"Since you're fine now, go write a ten-thousand-word apology letter. Take a picture, post it online, and say sorry to Sammy."
