I scrolled through his messages, but there was nothing unusual until I switched accounts.
That was when I found an alternate account.
Only one name appeared in his chat list. Scarlett.
[Elijah, it’s been five years. How much longer do I have to keep hiding?]
[She has no proof I hit her and she’s a cripple now. She’s no threat at all.]
[Our son keeps crying for his daddy. Can you really bear this?]
Elijah’s response was full of reassurance.
[My parents and I are already discussing a plan. Just be patient.]
So, they had already brought Scarlett back. Changed her name. Built an entire life for her.
Just a few days ago.
They even registered a real estate company in her name.
In five days, the grand opening would take place.
My hands trembled as I opened Elijah’s social media feed.
I scrolled. My heart turned ice-cold.
For five years, Scarlett had been living in luxury abroad, funded by my family.
She dressed in designer brands under the Harrison Group. The villa she lived in? One of the company’s overseas properties.
And Elijah? He had been by her side all along, using “business trips” as an excuse to fly over.
Even my own parents were in the photos, smiling as if they belonged there.