Ashley, who had come with us, waved sweetly at me, her eyes narrowing in a fake smile. "Now that we’re here, why don’t you apologize to me? After all, my sister had her accident because she was devastated to hear about your engagement to Mr. Gray."
How absurd. No one with any sense would believe Ashley's words, but before I could respond, Harold frowned and snapped, "Sara, apologize."
The air felt thick with tension. I stood there, weighing my options. If I truly loathed myself, staying would only invite more abuse. I knew the right move was to turn around and leave, without hesitation.
But before I could act, Ashley slapped me, hard. "Since you won’t speak up, I’ll silence you myself," she spat. "Remember, you’ll always carry a life on your conscience, and I have every right to make you pay for it whenever I want. Every time I see you, I'll make you suffer."
Her boldness came from Harold’s backing, and she knew it.
I was about to strike back when Harold grabbed my wrist, stopping me.
I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. "Harold, what gives you the right to treat me like this? You resent marrying me, but instead of facing Anton, you take it out on me, again and again."