His Betrayal, My Unmaking, Her Crime

ught me comfort, an oasis where I rebuilt lives

4-a "Jane Doe" skull-when her face, slowly emerging from

o years ago. I reached for my phone, hand trembling, to tell hi

ng two ski-masked figures; a primal fear choked me. A f

music. My face a swollen mess, I was dragged to a brightl

apped around Chloe Davis' s waist, kissing her. He swept his eyes over the stage

her own face after tonight?" someone yelled, their wo

dding, then, goaded by Chloe, bought me for ten thousand dollars, hi

oman carrying his child.