Revenge On My Deceptive Bride

rt plummeted into my stomach, a familiar, sickening drop. It was happening exactly like before, the inevitable closing of a ne

d from the hallway, followed by

My body felt heavy, anchored by a sense of crus

llway, stood a woman. My breath caught in my throat. It was her. The same woman from my past life. T

r, but I knew was pure performance. "That's him! That's the man who hit me and

se name tag read MILLER, stepped forwar

possible situation. "Officer, there's been a mistake," I said, my voice shaking despite my effort to keep it steady. "I haven't been

still pale and silent, his expression

ideo clip. It was grainy, clearly from a traffic camera, but the image was unmistakable. A dark blue sedan, my car, swerving and

"My car is in my apartment's parki

r said, putting his phone

man's watch, its crystal cracked. "The victim, Ms. Gina, says this fell

, at this very moment, sitting on my nightstand back in my apartment. The c

flash of cameras, the shouting of questions. Th

it true you att

to the Vance Cor

id you

cage around us. The public spectacle, the trial by media, had begun. I felt a surge of impotent rage. This was their goal: not just to frame me,

ight. "I want to speak to my lawyer." I was trying to cling to th

station. But right now, we have a few more things to clear up. We sent a unit

clenched.

all day, correct?" Miller asked, his vo

right,

it found that the gas tank was full? To the brim. As

t made no sense, another nail in my coffin. It was their word, their fabricated proof, against my impossible reality. Every piece of their story was a lie, bu

fake tears, to the hungry eyes of the media. Despa