Chapter 6

"I'm not a slut," Cora whispered, the words barely audible.

The denial only enraged them. The lead woman grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the corner of the cell, out of sight of the guards.

"You think you're better than us?" she snarled, spitting in Cora's face.

They swarmed her. Someone poured a bucket of filthy mop water over her head. They slapped her, kicked her, their rings and rough hands leaving marks on her skin.

The pain was immense, but she was too broken to fight back. She curled into a ball on the cold, dirty floor.

"Look at her," the leader laughed, standing over her. "Not so high and mighty now, are you?"

Cora lay there, covered in grime, her body a canvas of bruises. Her face was swollen, her lip split and bleeding. She was barely breathing.

Eventually, they grew bored. One of them kicked her side. "Hey, get up."

There was no response.

"Shit," another one muttered. "I think she's out."

The leader, her bravado gone, quickly started shouting for the guards. "Hey! This one's sick! She needs a doctor!"

Cora was carried out on a stretcher.

She was released from custody early due to her "poor health." Her personal belongings from the office were waiting for her in a cardboard box on her apartment doorstep. She had been erased from August's life completely.

She collapsed onto her bed, her body screaming in pain. She didn't bother cleaning herself up. She just lay there, numbly waiting to die.

A buzz from her phone broke the silence. A message from her mother.

Honey, your father and I are coming to visit you next week! We miss you so much!

Another message. A group chat for her college reunion.

Everyone, don't forget the reunion this Saturday! It's been so long! August Ortega is even coming!

Pain, sharp and unbearable, shot through her head. She fumbled for her painkillers, swallowing a handful.

She dragged herself to the mirror and stared at her reflection. A pale, bruised, skeletal stranger stared back.

She took a deep breath and replied to the messages, her words cheerful and fake, hiding the abyss of her reality.

Can't wait to see you, Mom!

Sounds fun! I'll be there!

She had one last thing to do.

She went to a small hill on the outskirts of the city, a place only she and August knew. At its peak stood a sycamore tree. Their tree.

She gently touched its bark, a sad smile on her lips. From her pocket, she pulled out a delicate silver chain. Hanging from it was a simple silver ring.

It was the eighteenth-birthday present she had bought for August, all those years ago. She had saved for months to afford it. He had worn it on the chain around his neck, right next to his heart.

Then came the day she "betrayed" him. In his rage and pain, he had ripped it from his neck and thrown it at her feet.

She had kept it ever since.

She carefully hung the necklace on one of the tree's branches. A final offering. A final goodbye.

"The tree is getting old," she whispered to the wind. "But I'm getting older faster."

She and August had planted it as a sapling. Now, it was tall and strong. She was withering away.

She took one last look, then turned and walked away.

The leaves rustled in the wind, as if waving farewell.

On Saturday, she went to the reunion. Old classmates greeted her warmly, their faces a mix of nostalgia and curiosity.

"Cora! It's so good to see you! We all heard you were working for August. Are you two...?"

Before she could answer, the door opened.

August walked in, with Harlow Hughes on his arm. They were a vision of power and glamour.

Harlow's eyes immediately found Cora's, and she gave her a look of pure, triumphant venom.

The classmate who had been talking to her just laughed awkwardly.

Later, as they were all talking, Harlow "accidentally" bumped into Cora. In that brief moment of contact, Harlow slipped something small and hard into Cora's purse.

Cora felt it instantly. She grabbed Harlow's wrist. "What did you just do?"

August was there in a second, his hand clamping down on Cora's wrist, his grip like a vise. "What do you think you're doing to Harlow?" he snarled, his eyes blazing with protective fury.

Harlow put on her innocent act. "It's nothing, Auggie. Cora and I were just talking."

August let go of Cora, but not before giving her a look of deep suspicion. He pulled Harlow away, seating her at a table far from Cora.

Cora's heart felt like a desolate wasteland.

To liven things up, the class president decided to play a slideshow of old college photos.

The screen flickered. A picture of their smiling graduation class appeared, then it froze.

The image stuttered, then changed.

The room fell into a shocked, horrified silence.

On the large screen, for everyone to see, was a grainy, private video. Of August and Harlow. In bed.