Chapter 11 It Was You
I was shaking so hard my bones felt like they might crack. My skin burned, slick with sweat, every breath scraping my throat raw.
Detox.
Again.
It always felt like dying, only slower.
My muscles twitched uncontrollably, jerking without warning. Nausea rolled through me in violent waves until I gagged, dry and useless. Every nerve felt exposed, like even the air brushing my skin was too much.
Cold one moment. Burning the next.
My teeth chattered, then heat surged through me, sweat soaking the thin fabric clinging to my body. My heart hammered unevenly, too fast, too hard.
I curled into myself on the thin mattress, arms wrapped around my stomach, trying to breathe through the tremors ripping down my spine. My legs wouldn’t stay still. Nothing would.
The door opened.
Harsh white light flooded the room, blinding after the dim.
I flinched, bracing myself.
Another client.
Another night to survive.
But then—
"Well," Apple said lightly, "look at you. I almost didn’t recognize you."
My entire body went still.
For a heartbeat, I thought I was hallucinating.
Detox did that sometimes. Faces. Voices. People my mind dragged out of the past just to torture me a little more.
But the sound of her heels clicking against the concrete was real.
I pushed myself up on trembling arms, my vision swimming, the room tilting as my body protested the movement. My muscles screamed, weak and uncoordinated, like they no longer remembered how to hold me up.
“You’re real,” I whispered. My throat cracked on the words.
She stepped fully into the room. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. That expensive perfume cutting through the stench of sweat, sickness, and despair like she didn’t belong within miles of a place like this.
She smiled.
Like we were two old friends catching up.
“Of course I am.”
My mind was too fogged, too slow to understand right away.
But then she started talking.
“You know,” she said, glancing around the room with mild amusement, “I always wondered how long you would last here. Honestly, I thought you would be dead by now.”
I stared at her, my fingers curling weakly into the mattress, unable to form words.
“You always were too trusting.” She gave a soft, almost fond laugh. “Made things easier for me.”
My stomach twisted violently.
“What…?” My voice barely formed the word.
She sighed, like I was already disappointing her. “The messages. The calls. The voice. That wasn’t you, obviously. But it was good enough for him.”
A pause. A small, satisfied smile.
“I made sure of that.”
My breath hitched, chest tightening.
“The wedding,” she went on, almost conversational now. “God, that was my favorite part. The timing. The drama. Watching everything fall apart exactly the way I planned it.”
My nails scraped against the mattress.
“No…” I whispered.
She tilted her head, studying me like I was something fragile and fascinating.
“You really didn’t see it, did you?”
Her lips curved.
“I needed him to hate you. Needed you out of the way. And you made it so easy. All I had to do was give him a reason.”
My vision blurred.
“You—” My voice broke. “You did all that… just to take him?”
She laughed softly.
“Please. Nick was just a bonus.”
Her eyes glinted, amused, and she leaned in slightly.
“He was a beast,” she said softly. “Very… enthusiastic.”
Her smile deepened.
“You remember.”
I did.
That memory was rotting inside me.
Something in her expression shifted then. Sharper. Colder.
“This was never about him,” she said. “It was about you.”
My breath stuttered.
“The messages were just the beginning,” she continued, her tone flattening with boredom. “After that, everything else fell into place. The rumors. The little pushes. Making sure you had nowhere to go.”
My heart pounded, uneven and frantic.
“The acid?” I choked.
Her smile didn’t falter.
“A bit extreme,” she said. “But it got the job done.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“And then,” she added softly, stepping closer, “you disappeared.”
A pause.
“Exactly like I needed you to.”
“Why…?” The word tore out of me.
She crouched down so we were eye level, her perfume overwhelming in the stale air.
“Because you always had the things I wanted,” she said softly. “Things I worked for. Things I bled for. And you got them without even trying.”
“So you… ruined my life?”
She smiled, slow and deliberate.
“I didn’t ruin your life,” she said.
“I just removed you from it.”
My chest constricted.
“They all left you, Ashley,” she said, almost gently. “Every single one. No one looked for you. No one missed you. No one cared.”
She tilted her head, her smile widening. “Life’s been so peaceful without you. Like the world finally corrected itself.”
I just stared at her, trying to make sense of the words, trying to breathe.
“Life’s been amazing, actually.” Her hand drifted to her stomach.
Rounded.
Obvious.
Pregnant.
She watched my reaction with open delight, her fingers smoothing over the curve like she was showing off a prize.
“Surprised?” she asked softly.
“You… you’re pregnant?”
She nodded, eyes bright with something close to triumph.
“I did better than I expected,” she said lightly. “One of Chicago’s top bachelors. Billionaire. Powerful. The kind of man women would destroy each other for.”
Her smile widened.
“And he’s completely obsessed with me. Gives me everything I want.”
She kept talking, her voice smooth and pleased with itself, but it blurred into nothing.
All I could see was her stomach.
Rounded.
Full.
A memory hit me like a blow.
Hospital lights.
A small, hollow ache in my abdomen.
My baby.
My hand moved before I could stop it, drifting toward my stomach, fingers trembling.
Apple noticed immediately.
“You’re remembering, aren’t you?” she murmured.
I froze.
“I heard about that,” she continued, almost thoughtfully. “Tragic.”
A pause.
Then, softer, colder.
“But at least I didn’t have to get involved. The problem solved itself.”
My chest tightened painfully.
“And honestly,” she added, tilting her head, “maybe it was a sign.”
Her eyes locked onto mine.
“That you were never meant to be a mother.”
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I swallowed them back, refusing to let them fall.
I wouldn’t give her that.
She crouched beside my bed again, perfume thick enough to choke me.
“You should see my life now,” she whispered. “Penthouse view. Designer brands. Millions of followers. Everyone adores me. Mom says she’s proud.”
“Stop… please…”
“You know she never loved you, right? No matter what you did, she never would. Have you really never wondered why?”
Something inside me cracked. “Why?” I whispered. “What did I do?”
For a split second, something flickered across her face.
Then she let out a quiet, breathy laugh.
“God,” she murmured, almost to herself. “All those years…”
Her eyes snapped back to mine.
Hatred burned there.
“It should have been you.”
My brows pulled together. “What…?”“
“She saw him,” she said suddenly, her voice tightening. “That man. She saw him watching us.”
“She knew something was wrong,” she went on, faster now. “And she still—”
Her voice broke, then sharpened again, almost feral.
“She wanted him to take you. You. Not me.”
I stared at her, my mind blank, unable to process the words.
“It was supposed to be you,” she snapped.
And then she kept talking.
Words poured out of her, sharp and fast, each one landing, each one clear, but my mind lagged behind.
“…that day…”
“…she said…”
“…would have been easier…”
Then Apple’s phone chimed.
It cut straight through her rant.
She glanced down at it, and just like that, her expression smoothed out. The anger vanished, replaced with that same polished calm.
“Look at the time,” she said lightly. “I wish I could drag this out longer, but I can’t risk anyone finding my dirty little secret.”
She gave me one last clinical look.
“Don’t worry,” she added. “I’ll make sure no one ever finds you. You’ll just be another forgotten unsolved case.”
I tried to move. To crawl. To reach her. To fight.
My body didn’t respond.
I was too weak. Too empty.
Apple leaned over me, her perfume suffocating me all over again.
“Goodbye.”
Something drove into my stomach.
For a split second, there was nothing.
Then the pain hit.
White-hot. Vicious. Blinding.
A broken sound tore out of me as I gasped, my body jerking against the mattress.
Her smile widened at the horror in my eyes.
“Your whole life’s been a joke,” she whispered. “Better luck in the next one… sis.”
Warmth spread across my abdomen.
My vision dimmed at the edges.
The room blurred. Tilted. Faded.
But in those final moments, I wasn’t afraid.
I was angry.
Not weak. Not broken.
Angry.
Something burned inside me, hotter than the pain, stronger than the darkness closing in.
I wanted to come back.
No.
I would come back.
And I would make them all pay.
Then everything went black.