“Fucking whore,” Sylwia spat, venom dripping from every word. “I hope she has a brilliant career—as long as she never comes back here.”

  The hatred in her voice was so thick it made listening unbearable. For most people, at least. Not for Emily.

  What was strange was that they had ever become friends at all.

  Emily had been chasing after Jack since elementary school. He ignored her deliberately, which she couldn’t stand. She believed herself to be the prettiest, the smartest, the most desirable. The idea that she couldn’t have something—someone—was simply unthinkable.

  And yet Amelia stood in her way.

  Sylwia had always mocked her brother’s admirer. Jack never commented, though sometimes it took real effort not to. After Amelia and Jack broke up, Emily believed her chances had finally increased. That now she might get her prince.

  Maybe that was why she clung to Sylwia so desperately.

  For a long time, nothing came of it. But Emily never stopped hoping.

  “What does anyone even need her for…” Emily chimed in.

  “She dumped my brother and spread her legs for that slick bastard. Why? Because he had a fancy car?!”

  “She was raped, you idiot!”

  Maya had heard enough. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut any longer.

  Sylwia’s eyes widened.

  “Oh please,” she snapped. “You think her nervous breakdown, the cut-up arms, all that crap was because of a fight with Jack? Seriously? Are you really that stupid?!”

  “What… what did you just say?”

  Jack stepped out from behind the wall.

  He was pale as death, his eyes flooded with tears.

  “What… what did he do to her?”

  Maya clapped her hands over her mouth in horror and ran without a word.

  He caught up to her in the parking lot.

  “You’re not leaving until you tell me everything. Do you hear me?”

  Maya realized with terror that despite everything—despite the lies, the silence, the damage—he still loved Amelia.

  “But I promised her,” she whispered.

  “I don’t give a shit,” he snapped, his voice shaking. “I’ve behaved like a complete asshole for years. Talk.”

  They sat down on a nearby bench. Maya told him everything—exactly as Amelia had once told her.

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  “My God… my God… my God…”

  Panic consumed him.

  He paced back and forth, clutching his hair, breath ragged. For so long, he had ignored the woman he loved because he believed the lies his sister fed him—lies he never questioned.

  He should have been there for Amelia.

  Holding her. Not letting go.

  God.

  What if it wasn’t just the rape that pushed her toward self-destruction—but his indifference?

  “Thanks. For telling me.”

  He patted Maya’s shoulder and turned away.

  “Wait!” she called after him. “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He shook his head and rushed to his car.

  He drove aimlessly through the city, unable to latch onto a single coherent thought. Eventually, he pulled into a bar—the first rundown dive he came across.

  He drank until morning.

  Passed out in his car.

  Then started again.

  Somewhere in his drunken haze, the idea took hold: he had to apologize to Amelia. The men drinking with him encouraged it.

  So he got back behind the wheel, completely numb.

  When he spotted Mark’s BMW, he couldn’t stop himself.

  Maybe if he’d been sober…

  But he wasn’t.

  He pulled up alongside him and rolled down the window, motioning for Mark to do the same.

  Amused, unaware of what was coming, Mark complied. They’d hated each other since elementary school—envy, rivalry, provocation. Mark had always enjoyed pushing his buttons.

  “What are you smiling about, you fucking rapist?” Jack shouted.

  The girl in Mark’s passenger seat went pale.

  “What did you just say?” Mark demanded, stunned.

  “I know everything, asshole. Wasn’t it enough screwing brainless girls? Sorry, sweetheart.” He glanced at her. “If you’re smart, you’ll get away from him.”

  “You’re drunk,” she said sharply.

  “Maybe. But for the first time in my life, I can see everything so clearly.”

  The light turned green.

  Mark took off with a screech of tires.

  Jack followed.

  They tore down the main road at nearly two hundred kilometers an hour.

  At one point, Jack overtook Mark, yanked the handbrake, spun the car around—and got out.

  Mark didn’t have time to react.

  The girl screamed.

  She grabbed the steering wheel.

  Mark let go.

  The car slammed into Jack at full speed, throwing him high into the air before crashing through the barrier and plunging into the lake.

  Jack was found lying on the road almost immediately. Someone happened to be passing by and saw him.

  The broken guardrails didn’t raise suspicion—there had been another accident at the same spot the week before, and the police assumed the road authority hadn’t repaired them yet.

  The horrific truth came out only later—when Mark’s parents and the girl’s family reported them missing, and when Jack woke from his coma.

  He had more luck than sense.

  He lost so much blood that somehow no one tested it for alcohol. Officially, he was sober at the time of the accident.

  His father—a well-connected lawyer—did his job flawlessly.

  Not only did Jack face no consequences, but a witness was found who testified that the illegal racing had been provoked by Mark.

  In the end, Jack received a multimillion settlement for permanent disability—and a lifetime pension.