The crystal chandeliers sparkled, reflecting the perfect white dress I wore.
My hand was tucked into Mark's arm; this was our engagement party.
Then, his voice, smooth and charming just seconds before, twisted into a lie.
"Sarah is not well," he announced to the silenced room, my mentee Chloe by his side.
My world shattered.
He branded me "unstable," a "liar," destroying my reputation, my life, right there on the ballroom floor.
For five years, I struggled, the whispers haunting me.
Five years later, at a high-profile gala, they found me.
