Not far away, Quincy stood watching, a chilling smile curling at her lips.
Within days, the headlines exploded. The bachelor who had once bought me appeared in front of the cameras, holding two children in his arms and playing the victim.
He accused me of being irresponsible, of being unfaithful.
Reporters swarmed me as I searched desperately for any news about my parents.
“Miss Pearson, don’t you feel guilty for abandoning your husband and children? You robbed them of a mother’s love from such a young age.”
A wall of cameras pressed closer, and those dark, endless six years replayed in my mind all over again.
I clutched my head, struggling to push my way out, but every path was blocked by reporters.
“Miss Pearson, society will condemn your actions. Didn’t you just run away because you couldn’t stand the poverty of the countryside?”
I raised my head, and not far away, I saw Quincy standing arm-in-arm with Luka, watching me with cold satisfaction.
“I didn’t. I was trafficked,” I said, my eyes burning red.