Chapter 11

She added, “He raped me. He forced me into it. I was terrified.”

Joshua froze, staring at her like the floor had just dropped out from under him.

“What are you talking about? When did I ever rape you?”

“Officer, he raped me before I even turned eighteen. Please-you have to help me,’ said Linda.

That’s when he finally noticed us by the door.

His knees buckled. He almost hit the floor. Still staring at her, stunned.

“Linda… you said you loved me. That we were meant to be. How could it be rape?”

“Mr. Ziegler, quit lying. I’m young, with my whole life ahead of me. Why would I ever fall for a married man?”

I rushed in and slapped him, hard.

“You killed Mia! You’re a murderer!”

The cops stepped in and cuffed him right there.

Selling a child-getting her killed-wasn’t enough for the death penalty.

But Philip fought hard in court. He pushed for the max.

Joshua got fifteen years.

After Mia’s funeral, I spiraled. Grief swallowed me whole.

Then one day, Linda showed up. Told me everything.

“I never loved him,” she said. “I hated him. My dad found me abandoned and raised me like I was his own. He was everything to me.

“But he died because of Joshua.

“If he hadn’t begged my dad to go back to the lab for some files, he wouldn’t have been caught in the fire.

“I got close to Joshua on purpose. I couldn’t kill him, but I wanted him destroyed.

“I acted the way I did around you because I thought you’d go to the university president, blow everything up, ruin his future.

“But you didn’t. You let him go.

“After the divorce, I’m the one who leaked it all.

“I was about to dump him when I heard him on the phone with his mom-saying everything was set. That family with the disabled son? It was already arranged.

“If you hadn’t moved Mia to Pineville, she would’ve been sold way earlier.

“I never thought he could be that evil. I tried to stop him, but he’d totally lost it— wouldn’t listen to anyone.”

After she left, I found a tiny crack of light in all that darkness.

I went to the prison and told Joshua everything.

He broke down, sobbing, begging me to forgive him.

But I was done listening.

Fifteen years later, he got out.

Mid-forties, but he looked ancient-worn out and hollow.

I saw him outside our Michelin-starred restaurant—me, Philip, and our son were just walking in.

Some old man was digging through the trash.

He looked up and locked eyes with me.

Recognized me in a second.

Just stood there, staring.

Didn’t say a word.

Then he turned and walked off.

Never saw him again.

THE END