Chapter 4

The next thing Ava knew, she was disoriented, her clothes torn, in a cheap motel room.

Then, flashing lights, shouting. She was dragged out, framed for a drug-fueled rampage.

Tabloids, fed by Chloe' s allies, had a field day. "Heiress Gone Wild!" "Thompson Scion's Drug Hell!"

She spent a night in a rough county jail, the stench of despair clinging to her.

Upon release, her reputation was in tatters.

Ethan and Liam, through lawyers, ensured she was disinherited from any immediate control of her trust fund. "For her own protection," the statements read.

Broke, shamed, and still in pain from her poorly treated burns, she was forced into a demeaning job at a seedy motel on the outskirts of the city.

The owner, a slimy associate of her family's, now clearly under Chloe's influence, leered at her constantly.

She cleaned filthy rooms, her leg screaming in protest, her scarred face hidden behind a cheap mask the owner insisted she wear. "Don't want to scare the customers, dearie."

Her burn wounds festered, the cheap ointments she could afford doing little.

She was invisible, a ghost haunting the grimy corridors of her new life.

The live feed comments had become less frequent, more sporadic, but still occasionally flickered, mocking her misery.

Looks like Ava hit rock bottom. Good. She was boring anyway.

Wonder if Ethan and Liam even remember her name lol.

One cold night, as Ava scrubbed a mildewed bathroom, a brilliant light show filled the city sky.

Drones, forming giant, glowing rabbit shapes.

Rabbits.

A wave of nausea hit her. It was a romantic gesture Liam had done for her once, on their anniversary, a private joke between them.

Now, it was for Chloe.

The live feed, dormant for days, crackled to life with a vengeance.

Aww, Ethan and Liam are SO romantic, doing this for Chloe just 'cause she had a bad dream! Meanwhile, Ava's probably rotting. #TrueLove

This Ava chick needs to just give up and die. She's irrelevant.

Give up? Die?

Something snapped within Ava.

No.

She remembered her father, a man of integrity, who had old political allies, people who valued truth.

If she died here, forgotten, Chloe would win completely. Ethan and Liam would continue their descent, unchecked.

She needed to survive. She needed to expose them.

But how? She was trapped.

An idea, desperate and dangerous, formed.

Ethan wouldn't want her dead. A dead Ava, especially under suspicious circumstances at a motel tied to their associates, would be a messy scandal, far worse than a "recovering" one. He wanted her broken, not a martyr.

She looked at the overflowing bin of dirty linens in the motel' s small laundry room.

With trembling hands, she struck a match.

A small, contained fire. Enough to cause panic, not to burn the place down.

Smoke billowed. The alarms shrieked.

The motel manager, his face a mask of terror, burst in.

"The girl! Thompson's girl! Is she okay? Mr. Thompson said she can't die! He'll kill me if she dies here!"

He dragged her out, coughing, into the night.

For the first time in months, someone was getting her medical help, not because they cared, but because they were afraid.

It was a start.