"I'm standing in front of my house." My house. It felt strange even calling it that, since Dad had practically kicked me out of the place I'd grown up in-the only real shelter I'd ever known.
I wiped at my face, trying to stop the fresh stream of tears.
"I'm on my way, Zee. I won't take long." She hung up before I could say anything else.
Minutes later, Delia's car pulled up just a few feet away, arriving faster than I thought was possible. Without bothering to turn the engine off, she jumped out of the car. She literally ran to my side, pulling me into a big, comforting hug.
"What's wrong?" She pulled back, eyes flicking over my face.
Still clinging to the hug that gave me more comfort than I'd expected, I sniffled. "Thank you for coming so fast. Let's go, I'll tell you on the way to your place."
She noticed my bags at that point but chose not to say anything. But I caught the hard glare she threw at my dad's house, like it was the one that had wronged me. "Let's go."
She helped load my bags into her car, and twenty minutes later, as we pulled into her place, she'd heard the whole story.
Her place was actually really nice. Delia Rozford, like me, came from money-so she could easily afford a luxurious home, thanks in part to her family's fortune.
But Delia wasn't the kind to lean on old money or let it define her. She wanted to build her own success-and she was already doing it.
Her path as a fashion designer was clearly fueling that goal. Even though she was still new to the industry, her fashion career was already turning heads.
Barely a year in, she was rising to national fame and already paving the way for international buzz.
Ten minutes later, we were sitting in her room, and I was filling her in on everything that had happened over the last hour.
"But how?" she asked, her face frozen in disbelief.
I shook my head, my tears making it almost impossible to get words out. "I... I have no idea."
"That stupid, evil Sabrina. This has her written all over it." Delia scooted closer and pulled me into a hug. "I'm so sorry you're going through this."
I sniffled. "Can I please stay with you for a while? Just until I sort things out with my dad."
"Do you think he'll believe you-especially without solid proof?" she asked.
My heart sank even deeper. "I don't know, but I have to try. I... I don't have another choice."
She let out a deep sigh. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out together. And yes, you can stay as long as you need."
Relief and hope rose up in me. "Thank you."
"Now let's get you cleaned up and..."
Her words were cut short by the sudden ringing of my phone. Thinking it was my dad, I picked it up without checking the caller ID. "Hello?"
"Girl, what's wrong with your voice? Have you been crying?"
"It's Natasha," I mouthed to Delia, who was still sitting beside me. "Where are you, Natasha?" I asked into the phone.
"Have you been online lately?" she asked, ignoring my question.
My curiosity piqued, I shook my head, though she couldn't see me, and quickly followed with a "no."
"You need to see this, Zee. You're all over the news. I'm sending you a link." The call ended, and seconds later, the notification popped up.
I clicked on it to see what she was talking about. A stunned gasp escaped my lips.
"What is it?" Delia was already leaning over to see my screen. She gasped too. "When did this happen?"
"Never. Never. I... never." I stared at the video, too shocked to move, watching myself in an intimate embrace with a man old enough to be my father.
But how? This wasn't me. I had never done anything like that before.
My phone rang again. "Natasha, where did you get this video from?" I asked as soon as I picked up the call, my voice so shaky I was nearly falling apart.
"I hope you're home, because I'm already on my way there," she said.
"I'm at Delia's. I've been trying to reach you, but you weren't picking up."
Sorry about that. I'm changing course-heading to Delia's now." She hung up.
My shoulders slumped in despair as tears poured freely, my mind drowning in bleak, overwhelming thoughts. What was happening to my life?
My phone pinged with a new notification. It was a text. I opened it, and a sob burst out of me.
Delia took the phone from me. "What is it?" A second later-"Oh. I'm so sorry, girl."
"If my dad wanted to believe me before, that chance is gone now." He'd sent a message full of disappointment, with the same link attached. The one showing me in a compromising position with that older man.
"It's okay, we'll figure it out," Delia said, pulling me back into her arms.
Minutes later, Natasha walked into the living room and immediately joined Delia and me on the couch, pulling me into her amrs. "You'll be fine, Zee. Who do you think is behind this?"
"I... I have no idea." I sobbed, my face buried against her shirt.
"I wouldn't put it past Sabrina. If she did what you said earlier, she's capable of worse. Hell, the bitch stole your fiancé," Delia snapped.
"What did she do? What happened?" Natasha asked, clearly confused.
So Delia retold everything I'd said earlier, throwing in her own angry profanities along the way.
"That bitch!" Natasha exploded the moment Delia finished. "We've got to teach her a lesson."
As tempting as it was, I shook my head. "No, we can't do anything right now. Not until I have proof I'm innocent. Please, don't make things worse for me."
They both reluctantly nodded. "Fine. But Sabrina better watch her back," Natasha muttered, eyes narrowing.
I looked at them both, and a bit of relief broke through. I was lucky to have such good friends. Having them with me through these trying times was more than enough.
"But you know we have to do something about this video, Zee," Delia said firmly. "Your reputation's on the line."
"I agree," Natasha said, backing her up.
"Right now, until I can clear my name, I'd rather just stay hidden here at your place, Delia." I blinked trying to hold back a new wave of tears.