It was our third anniversary, and I was shivering on the balcony, barefoot in a thin silk robe.
My husband Ethan, who believed I caused his true love Gabrielle to vanish, shoved me out there, making me pay for my supposed sins.
Then, a phone call.
Gabrielle was back.
Suddenly, I went from a neglected wife to the household's lowliest servant, abused by Ethan, Gabrielle, and every staff member.
They said I betrayed her, that I was a vile, jealous creature.
My health deteriorated, coughing blood, fading into a shadow.
They drugged me, paraded me before a hateful crowd, publicly shaming me as the "disgraced sister" while Gabrielle, the "victim," stood radiant.
My own father watched, approving.
How could my life twist into such a nightmare?
How could everyone believe such monstrous lies about me, turning me into a monster in their eyes?
I was already dying, isolated and shattered, when Gabrielle and a bribed maid claimed I' d leaked scandalous stories.
Something inside me snapped.
I grabbed the nearest thing-a heavy letter opener-and plunged it into Gabrielle.
I expected more pain, more condemnation, maybe even death.
But what came next would unravel everything, exposing the shocking truth from beyond my grave.