In just three days, I would be gone. Gone from the pain, the lies, and the betrayal. And for the first time, I felt like I could breathe again.
I was getting ready to leave, my hands shaking slightly as I zipped my bag. The police had called earlier, saying they’d found one of the men who hurt me. My stomach churned at the thought of facing everything again, but I had to do it. I couldn’t let fear win.
Just as I was about to step outside, Oliver barged into the house, his expression dark and intense.
“Where are you going?” he demanded, his voice sharp.
I ignored him, adjusting the strap of my bag. I didn’t have the energy for him right now.
“Are you going out with your man?” he accused, his words dripping with venom.
I froze, turning to him with a frown. “What are you talking about, Oliver?”
He smirked bitterly, reaching into his pocket. “I know the truth now,” he said, pulling out a stack of photos and throwing them onto the floor between us.
I glanced down, my blood ran cold. There I was in the photos—naked, vulnerable, lying on a bed. My heart raced as I pieced it together. It was from the night I was drugged.
“Where did you get these?” I asked, my voice trembling.