of the stamp still coated my tongue, a constant reminder of the humiliation. "You

ook, let's just clean you up. It's just a silly st

ding, seemed to spread, smearing across my skin, making the grotesque words even more prominent. I imagine

a cough. "Josiah, darling," she purred, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness

itement. "Right! The gala. I almost forgot." He turned to me, his expression softening slightly, a practiced veneer of

voice rising. "You want me t

. You're making a spectacle. Go home. We'll

nsity that burned my soul. She shot me a smug, triumphan

drifted back to me. "I'll take good care of your hu

ing me standing alone in the sterile, s

amed, my voice raw, echoing in the e

please. Stop this. You're just making things harder for yourself." He sighed. "I'll call you later, okay?

hushed and trembling. "Josiah, she's so angry.

ith reassurance. "Don't worry, Karma. I won

hrough me like a thousand knives. He

he secretary, looked up, her expression a mix of sym

ile. "I'll be fine,

d high, though my heart was sh

ed at my reflection in the rearview mirror. The red stamp stared back

eve the dress Josiah commissioned for me. The couture one. And I n