Chapter 5

Abigail Cardenas POV:

The whispers in the ballroom were like a thousand tiny needles piercing my skin. I could feel their judgment, their thinly veiled contempt. "Look at her," one woman tittered, "the disgraced lawyer. What nerve, showing her face here."

What nerve? I wanted to scream. You have no idea.

My mind flashed back to that night, after the verdict, after the world had crumbled. I had raced home, my heart a raw wound, clinging to the last shred of hope that Edgar, at least, would be innocent. That he would explain.

I found his study door ajar. Inside, the walls were covered. Not with my photos, not with Kody's drawings. But with Celena. Photos of them, from college, from recent trips, intimate glances, stolen smiles. A shrine to their "love," built right under my nose, in the home we shared. The cold, sickening realization hit me then. It wasn't just a frame-up. It was a calculated, brutal betrayal of everything we had built.

I stood there, paralyzed, the chill seeping into my bones, colder than any winter night. This is it, I remembered thinking. This is how it ends.

My legs gave out. I sank to the floor, hot tears finally streaming down my face, burning tracks on my skin. "Edgar!" I choked, my voice raw. "How could you?"

He emerged from the shadows, his face pale, his eyes avoiding mine. He didn't deny it. He just stood there, a silent testament to his guilt.

"Celena was always the one, Abigail," he mumbled, his voice devoid of emotion. "She came back. I knew I had to be with her." He offered a pathetic, "I'm sorry. I'll make sure you're taken care of."

Taken care of? My heart shattered into a million pieces. "You despicable coward," I hissed, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "She left you broken, Edgar. I put you back together. And this is how you repay me? You betray me for the woman who stomped all over your heart once already?"

He flinched, but said nothing. He just stood there, watching me break, offering empty promises of "care."

Then, the final, brutal blow. As the guards led me away to prison, my hands cuffed, my world in ruins, I saw Kody. He was standing behind Celena, clinging to her leg. His eyes, usually filled with innocent love for me, were now wide with a chilling mixture of fear and something else. Disgust.

"Mama, don't come back," he'd whispered, his voice small, but clear as a bell. "You're a bad person. Aunt Celena said so."

That was the moment. The exact moment my heart turned to stone. The abandonment from Edgar was a knife. Kody's words were the acid that dissolved my very soul.

Three years. Three years in that hellhole. Three years of taunts, of physical and emotional abuse. My body, once strong and vibrant, became a canvas of bruises and scars. One particularly brutal attack in the prison yard left me with a permanent limp, a constant reminder of their cruelty.

But the fire in my gut never died. I emerged from prison, a shell of my former self, but with a new purpose. Truth. Vengeance. I would expose them.

I started digging, patiently, relentlessly. I found the cracks in their perfect facade, the digital footprints of their conspiracy. I had the evidence. It was all laid out, clear as day. I was finally ready. Ready to clear my name, to reclaim my life.

I was driving to the courthouse, a storm raging outside, mimicking the one in my heart. The evidence, carefully compiled, sat on the passenger seat. I was so close. So close to freedom.

Then, the brakes failed.

The car veered wildly, careening off the coastal highway. The last thing I remembered was the sickening crunch of metal, the roar of the ocean, and the chilling realization that this wasn't an accident. This was deliberate.

I woke up in a remote, forgotten clinic, my body broken, my memory fragmented. They had left me for dead. Presumed dead.

And now, here I stood. Alive. A ghost returned.

The whispers in the ballroom died down, replaced by Celena's saccharine voice. "Abigail, darling, we understand you might be a little... out of sorts. But this is Kody's night. And Edgar and I are celebrating our engagement." Her smile was patronizing, a thin veneer over pure malice. "Perhaps it's best if you just... leave quietly. For old times' sake."

Edgar, flushed and uncomfortable, nodded weakly. "Abigail, it's been seven years. It's time to let go. We've all moved on. Please, don't make a scene." His voice held a note of weary plea.

"Let go?" I finally spoke, my voice cutting through the elegant music, sharp and clear. "You think I can 'let go'?" My eyes burned into Edgar's. "Do you even know what you're asking me to let go of?"

His face went white. He knew. He clearly knew.

Just then, Kody, his face streaked with tears, stepped forward. He grabbed my arm, his grip surprisingly strong. "Mom, please," he sobbed, his eyes pleading. "Just... pretend. For me. For my birthday. Just say you're sorry. Please, Mom."

I looked down at his hand, then into his tear-filled eyes. The boy who had betrayed me, the boy who had helped them push me off that cliff. The boy whose pleading tears had once melted my heart. Not anymore. That part of me was dead, buried under the wreckage.

I pulled my arm away from his grasp, slowly, deliberately. "Sorry?" I asked, my voice chillingly calm. "Sorry for what, Kody?" My gaze pierced his. "For surviving?"

He flinched, reeling back as if struck. His face was a mask of terror. Edgar stared, wide-eyed, a dawning horror spreading across his features. Celena, ever the manipulator, watched me with a calculating gleam, a faint, knowing smirk playing on her lips. She always knew.

"Did you really think," I began, my voice rising, cutting through the stunned silence in the ballroom, "that I wouldn't come back for this?" My eyes flickered to Celena, then to Edgar, then back to Kody. "Did you really think you could bury me and walk away unscathed?"

The crowd was rapt, silent, hanging on my every word. They expected a scene, and I was about to give them one. Just not the one they expected.