Inside a car with pink interiors, a woman dressed in a bunny costume was straddling a man. The sound of their gasps and moans rose and fell with their movements. Her coquettish voice was sickeningly sweet.
A second message followed. [Do you recognize this car? Leon said being with me feels so much better. Your child was your bargaining chip, but now it’s gone.]
[Just wait. Soon, I’ll take him away from you, old hag.]
Staring at the video, I felt my breath hitch. I never imagined that the woman Leon was fooling around with would be Zandra, the college student I had personally sponsored.
And the car—it was the birthday gift Leon had given me.
Because I loved pink, he had spent a fortune customizing the car, turning everything from the exterior to the interior into shades of pink, complete with vibrant rose embellishments.
Back then, he had held me close, looking into my eyes with sincerity. “Sharina, this car is yours and yours alone. Only you can sit in it.”
From that day forward, I used the pink car every time I went out. Except for New Year’s Eve, when Leon told me the car was in for maintenance, so I had taken another.