Chapter 3

"We looked for you, Elise. For months. Nothing." Jace' s voice was calm, almost dismissive, as if my disappearance was merely an inconvenience. He stood there, in my tiny, foul-smelling room, in his pristine suit, a living monument to everything I had lost. "We even held a memorial. A proper one."

A memorial. The word echoed in my head, a hollow, bitter laugh threatening to escape. They had mourned a ghost, celebrated a lie. The sheer audacity of it, the sickening irony, made my stomach churn. My fists, hanging at my sides, clenched and unclenched, an invisible battle raging within me.

Jace' s eyes drifted around the suffocating space, a flicker of something that might have been pity, or perhaps just contempt, crossing his features. "It's been seven years, Elise. Katherine and I... we've been together all this time." He gestured vaguely towards Katherine, who stood in the doorway, her eyes fixed on me with an unreadable expression. "And now... we're expecting." A proud, almost smug smile touched his lips.

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze directly. "Are you finished?" My voice was flat, devoid of any inflection.

I took a step back, pulling the door wider, a silent invitation for them to leave. They both looked startled, clearly expecting a different reaction. Katherine's eyes were still wide, her face pale. Jace's confident posture faltered slightly.

"Elise, please," Katherine whispered, her voice hoarse, "I just want to help. We both do."

Jace reached into his expensive leather wallet, pulling out a thick wad of cash. He shoved it into my hand, along with a business card. The slick, heavy card felt alien in my calloused palm. "We know you were a brilliant lawyer, Elise. I have my own firm now. You can work for me." He paused, a condescending smirk playing on his lips. "And we can get your paperwork sorted, your identity. No more living like this."

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, warning tone. "Let's not make things difficult, Elise. For anyone." He then turned, taking Katherine's arm, ready to leave.

Katherine hesitated, glancing back at me over her shoulder. "Annamarie misses you, too," she said, her voice softer, almost wistful.

Slam!

The sound of the cheap door hitting its frame reverberated through the cramped room, cutting off Katherine's words, sealing her out. I didn't want their pity. I didn't want their help. Not now. Not after everything.

My eyes fell to the business card, pristine and white, in my hand. Jace Bray, Attorney at Law. A successful man, built on my ruin. With a slow, deliberate motion, I tore it in half, then in quarters, then into tiny, confetti-like pieces, letting them fall to the grimy floor.

Help? They called this help? It was a bribe. A way to buy my silence, to assuage their guilt. But their guilt wasn't enough, not for what they took from me. Not for what they had done. Seven years had passed, but the wounds were still fresh, still bleeding. And their so-called charity was a bandage on a gaping, infected wound.

I didn't need their help anymore. I just needed to survive.