Chapter 5

Hailie appeared behind Caleb, her face a mask of concern. "Caleb, what's wrong? Oh, Ericka! Are you trying to cause trouble for the cemetery staff now?"

I didn't bother to look at her. I was too tired to argue, too broken to defend myself. What was the point? They would believe what they wanted to believe.

Caleb's rage intensified at my silence. "Answer me! You're buying a grave? Are you threatening us? Trying to make us feel guilty?"

Guilty? The thought was so absurd, a hysterical laugh bubbled in my chest. They were incapable of guilt.

"You think this is some kind of performance?" he roared, grabbing my arm and hauling me outside. "You think dying will solve anything? It won't! Your sins are too great!"

He was shouting, his face inches from mine. In his rage, he shoved me.

I lost my footing on the top step of the office. There was a moment of weightlessness, and then a sickening crunch as I hit the stone steps below. Pain exploded in my back and head, and the world dissolved into blackness.

I woke up to the feeling of cold rain on my face. It was dark. I was lying in a puddle of water and blood at the bottom of the cemetery steps.

They had left me there.

Every part of my body screamed in agony. My leg was bent at an unnatural angle. I tried to push myself up, but a wave of nausea and pain sent me crashing back down.

Slowly, painstakingly, I began to crawl. I dragged my broken body through the mud and rain, leaving a smeared trail of blood behind me. Each movement was a fresh hell, but I couldn't stay there.

I don't know how long it took me to reach the road, or how I managed to flag down a taxi. The driver looked horrified but took me to the nearest emergency room.

It was nearly dawn when I finally made it back to the villa.

Caleb was waiting in the living room, sitting in the dark like a predator.

"Do you know your mistake now?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

I was wrapped in fresh bandages, my leg in a cast, my body trembling with exhaustion and pain.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice hoarse.

"What was your mistake?" he pressed, standing up and walking toward me.

I just shook my head, tears of pure despair tracking paths through the grime on my face.

"Good," he said, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He seemed pleased by my brokenness. He turned and walked up the stairs, leaving me to limp my way back to my attic room.

A few weeks later, they forced me to attend a lavish party on a yacht. It was for Hailie. A celebration of her "recovery" and her "bravery."

I was dressed in a simple, drab dress and made to stand in the shadows, a ghost at the feast. I watched as Hailie, radiant in a designer gown, was toasted by my brother, by our friends, by the city's elite.

I watched as Caleb stood by her side, his arm possessively around her waist, a proud smile on his face.

This used to be my life. These were my friends. This was the man who had promised to love me forever.

As the night wore on, the yacht sailed out to sea. Fireworks exploded in the sky, brilliant bursts of color that felt like a mockery.

The crowd surged toward the deck to watch, and I was swept along with them. The weather turned suddenly, the wind picking up, whipping the sea into a frenzy.

The yacht pitched violently. Someone stumbled into me, and I lost my balance, tumbling over the railing into the churning, black water.

As I hit the cold sea, I heard another splash nearby. Looking up, I saw Hailie in the water too, flailing and screaming.

"Help!" I cried out, my voice swallowed by the wind and waves. "Caleb! Fitz!"

I saw them on the deck, their faces frantic. Caleb leaped into the water without hesitation.

My heart seized with a desperate hope. He was coming for me.

But he didn't swim toward me. He swam past me, his eyes fixed on Hailie.

He reached her, pulling her into his arms, pushing her toward the life preserver Fitzgerald had thrown.

No one looked back. No one saw me sinking beneath the waves. They had made their choice.