Buried inside, I found something else: his letter of forgiveness.
Clutching the documents, I headed straight to a lawyer.
But after scanning through them, he frowned.
The lawyer had explained that chat records couldn’t be used as solid evidence and that a letter of forgiveness from family members held legal weight.
When I asked him to draft the divorce agreement, he frowned and revealed that the marriage certificate was fake.
It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck me, leaving my heart plummeting into a bottomless abyss.
So Scarlett hadn’t lied. I truly had been nothing but a fool, a puppet in their cruel game.
But just as despair threatened to consume me, the lawyer’s eyes flickered with something new.
The lawyer's eyes lit up as he stated that, given the circumstances, Elijah's letter of forgiveness no longer held legal weight—it was an act of fraud and concealment.
A surge of hope rushed through me, breaking past the suffocating grief. Clutching onto that sliver of light, I begged him to help me file a lawsuit.
Leaving the law firm, I hailed a taxi and made my way to another hospital; my fingers clenched tightly around the fabric of my dress.
This time, I needed the truth.