The Unseen Scars of Her Lies

walked in, fresh from a trip with another man. "What are you doing, E

playful mask slipped, revealing the cold, calculating woman beneath. Then she laughed, sharp

k Peterson, burned in my chest. Her organ rejection, the doctors said, was triggered by emotional shock from seeing Sophia with another man. When I begged

dding, a shallow gesture, an insult to Lily's grave. My art, my life's passion, she called "nothing

their extravagant future. She laughed, calling it "pocket change." What words could capture the horror, the utter betrayal, of realizing the wo

new life called to me-the prestigious international art gallery' s offer-a chance that felt l