Chapter 38
Back at home, Rachel opened the window and let the breeze in. The sunlight touched the floor like gold, warming the quiet corners of her apartment. Everything felt unfamiliar and familiar at the same time—like returning from a long journey and finding home waiting, patient and unchanged.
She hadn’t spoken to her family since the trial ended. Her phone had been flooded with missed calls and unread messages from her father. She didn’t know what he wanted now—regret? Forgiveness? An explanation?
But before she could think too long about it, a soft knock came at the door.
She froze.
Then slowly crossed the room and opened it.
To her surprise, it was Grace.
The woman who had once sat smugly beside Sam during court appearances, dressed in designer clothes and false innocence, was now standing with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She looked thinner, paler—like someone who hadn’t slept in days.
Rachel’s first instinct was to shut the door. But something stopped her.
“I… I didn’t know where else to go,” Grace whispered. “Please. Just give me five minutes.”
Rachel stepped aside.
Grace walked in slowly, like every movement hurt. She sat on the edge of the couch, not looking Rachel in the eye. “They left me,” she said after a moment. “Sam. His family. All of them. Once the truth came out, they threw me away like trash.”
Rachel didn’t say anything. She stood near the window, hands clasped, watching the wind move the curtain.
“I thought I had everything,” Grace said quietly. “I thought being chosen over you made me better. But it didn’t. It made me hollow.”
Rachel turned. “You helped him destroy me.”
“I know,” Grace said, eyes shining. “And I’m not here to ask you to forgive me. I know I don’t deserve that. But I wanted to say it out loud. I was cruel. I lied. And I watched while they tore your life apart.”
Rachel walked slowly to the armchair and sat. Her voice was low. “Why come now?”
Grace met her gaze for the first time. “Because when you stood in that courtroom… when you didn’t break—I saw who you really are. And it made me hate the person I’ve become.”
Silence settled between them.
Rachel looked away. “I’ve spent years blaming you. But the truth is… I blamed myself even more.”
Grace’s chin trembled. “I never wanted it to end like this.”
“I did,” Rachel said gently. “Not because I wanted to see you suffer—but because I needed the truth to win. And now that it has… we both have to live with what we’ve done.”
Grace nodded slowly. She stood up. “Thank you… for listening. I’ll go now.”
Rachel watched her walk to the door. Just as Grace reached for the knob, Rachel said quietly, “I hope you find your own way to heal, Grace. But don’t come back unless you’ve really changed.”
Grace paused, nodded once, and left.
Rachel sat in silence for a long time after that. The world outside kept turning, children playing, cars humming past. Life, somehow, continued.
Later that night, Rachel lit a candle by the window and opened her laptop. She had a blank document open—a new project, a new beginning. She started to type, fingers steady.
“This is not a story of revenge. It’s a story of survival. And it begins again, here.”