My husband locked me in the house because he was afraid I'd ruin his concert date with his "little secretary." When a sudden fire broke out, I called him for help, begging him to come back. All I got was his impatient dismissal: "Can't you be a little more mature? I just gave your concert tickets to someone else. Do you have to hold a grudge against a young girl and make up such a pathetic lie?" I passed out from the smoke. After barely escaping with my life, I saw them on social media. They were on the Kiss Cam. The girl was shyly burying her face in my husband's chest. The caption read: So sweet! Couple goals! Furious, I left a comment: "Kissing someone else's husband? A homewrecker and a dog—perfect match. Do you have no shame?" Moments later, my phone blew up. "Harper, apologize to Bella right now, or we're getting a divorce!" 1 The pain of the burns on my skin was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. I could have escaped easily, but my husband, Carter, had drugged my water with sleeping pills and locked me inside to ensure I wouldn't crash his "date." Now, sitting in the back of the ambulance, my mind was terrifyingly clear. Carter called. There was no concern in his voice, only rage. "What the hell are you posting online? Do you know this is cyberbullying? Bella has depression! Now everyone is calling her a homewrecker!" "It was just two tickets to Taylor Swift! How much were they? I’ll Venmo you double. Do you have to target Bella like this?" My tears fell uncontrollably—from the pain, from the betrayal. It was the Eras Tour, the farewell leg. I spent weeks fighting scalpers to get those tickets. But just because Bella, the daughter of his dad’s old army buddy, said she wanted to go, Carter gave them to her. He never went to concerts with me. He said they were "too loud" and "not his scene." But Bella only had to pout, and his principles vanished. "Delete the comment and post a clarification. Later, I'll bring Bella over, and you will formally apologize to her." "The house caught fire. I almost died, Carter." I cut him off, my voice cold as ice. He laughed on the other end. "Harper, you are unbelievable. You really don't want to apologize that badly? You have to make up a lie like a house fire?" I hung up. Even the nurses looked at me with pity. My legs were severely burned, especially where the skin had fused with the fabric of my pajamas. The flesh was blistering and weeping. I leaned back and sobbed, the pain making me wish I had just died in the smoke. "We need to notify your family, Ms. Vance." I opened my mouth, but no words came. I had no family. Just then, Carter rushed through the ER doors. Seeing me lying on the bed, conscious and seemingly fine from the waist up, disappointment flashed across his face. "I thought you said you were dying? You look fine to me." My heart clenched. When we first started dating, if I got a paper cut, Carter would panic and drive me to urgent care. The nurses used to joke that if he drove any slower, the wound would have healed itself. Now? He looked at my charred legs and saw nothing. In his mind, unless I was in a body bag, it wasn't a big deal. "Stop being so stubborn. Just apologize." "Are you the family?" A nurse walked in, glaring at Carter with undisguised disgust. She had probably never seen a husband like this. "Sign the consent form. She needs debridement surgery." Carter refused. "She needs to apologize first. Otherwise, I'm not signing." The nurse was furious. "Her legs have third-degree burns! Are you gambling with her life?" "Please, Harper," Carter turned to me, his tone shifting to manipulation. "The whole internet is dragging her. If she sees the comments, she might hurt herself." "Just say you made a mistake. Say we aren't married, and that Bella is my girlfriend." I looked up, eyes red, staring at the man I married. I remembered how he used to chase me, swearing he would stay single forever if he couldn't marry Harper Vance. Was his "forever" only a few years long? "What if I say no?" "Harper, I'm out of patience. If you don't apologize, we're getting a divorce." "Okay." 2 Carter froze. He clearly didn't expect that answer. He scoffed, putting his hands on his hips. "New tactic? Playing hard to get now? Let me tell you, Harper, it won't work. You’re the one with the dark heart, ruining Bella’s reputation." While he was ranting, Bella walked in. Her voice was soft, fragile. "I'm so sorry, Harper. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have asked Carter to take me. I shouldn't have let the camera see us." She cried big, pearly tears, swearing she only saw Carter as a "big brother." "Stop bullying her, Harper! Apologize!" Carter barked, his heart breaking for her tears. Bella handed me a bouquet of flowers. "Please forgive me." "Don't indulge her, Bella. She's the one in the wrong." The flowers were in front of my face. I grabbed them and threw them on the floor. I was severely allergic to pollen. In a burn ward, with my immune system shot, it could kill me. Carter exploded. "How did you become so petty? Bella is humbling herself, and you act like this?" Hives started appearing on my neck. Bella gasped, playing the victim perfectly. "If you won't forgive me, maybe I should just die!" They made a scene until Bella "fainted" from the stress. Carter scooped her up, shooting me a hateful glare. "You better pray she's okay, Harper. Or I will destroy you." ... My surgery went well. I didn't see Carter again. I contacted a lawyer to draft the divorce papers. A few days later, Carter showed up with a thermos of bone broth. He said he made it himself. He admitted he was too harsh before and didn't realize the fire was real. "Drink it while it's warm. I didn't know the extent of the damage." I thought he was genuinely apologizing. But when I touched the thermos, it was stone cold. A layer of congealed fat floated on top. It was undrinkable. Carter noticed my hesitation and explained, "Bella is hospitalized too. You know she has OCD and is a germaphobe. She won't eat anything anyone else has touched." So, he took the fresh soup to Bella first. I got the leftovers. Germaphobe? She didn't seem to have a problem touching my husband. Bella was an orphan, the daughter of Carter's dad's military friend. They took her in. Carter always claimed she was just a "little sister." Back then, Bella was a crybaby. If she knew Carter and I were on a date, she'd call and cry until he came home. Carter would laugh and call her his "clingy little sister." I was so naive. I didn't drink the soup. I handed him the divorce papers. "Sign it. I already did." "?" Carter’s face turned green. "Just because I didn't give you the soup first? You're jealous over soup?" He launched into a speech about how Bella had no parents, how he was her only family. Why did I have zero empathy? I leaned back against the pillows, too tired to argue. I knew that while I was in the hospital, Bella had moved into my house. She posted photos on Instagram wearing my silk robes, cooking in my kitchen. They even adopted a cat—knowing full well I was allergic—and called it their "daughter." "Bella forgave you, Harper. She's handling the hate herself. You don't know how long I spent comforting her. When will you stop throwing this tantrum?" He thought I was throwing a tantrum. We used to have a rule: no matter how bad the fight, one person bows their head, and we move on. Not this time. 3 I moved my things out of the villa and hired a cleaning crew to sanitize the place. If he wouldn't sign, I’d sue for divorce. My legs were healing. My mentor, Professor Miller, urged me to return to the research team. As I walked into the lab building, I heard sobbing. "What if Harper says no? I won't graduate! It'll be a black mark on my record forever!" "Don't worry. I'm here." Carter was stroking Bella’s hair. She was clinging to him like a koala. "I knew you were the best, Carter! Mwah!" They were so wrapped up in each other they didn't see me. When Carter finally noticed me, Bella scrambled off him. He quickly claimed they were "just playing." But the hickey on his neck told a different story. "Why does the house feel empty?" Carter asked, trying to change the subject. "I threw out the trash," I said. "And I'm taking my stuff." Bella nodded. "Out with the old, in with the new." Carter saw my suitcase. "Where are you going?" "To the field site. The project deadline is tight." Carter’s expression shifted. He looked guilty. "You don't need to go. Did Professor Miller not tell you?" I frowned. I checked my email. My world collapsed. Professor Miller said I was temporarily suspended from the project. He forwarded me a news article. Bella, the "Genius Girl" of the university, had been accused of plagiarism on a major paper published in Nature. Carter had thrown me under the bus, claiming I was the one who edited her paper and inserted the plagiarized sections out of jealousy. I was a rising star in academia. This accusation was a career-killer. "Carter, do you realize this will ruin me?" I glared at the scumbag and his mistress. I wanted to tear them apart. Carter shrugged. "It's just one time, Harper. You owe her. You caused her depression relapse. Time will heal everything. Besides, Professor Miller loves you. Bella has no one." He said Bella couldn't handle the stigma. "Harper, if you really mind, I'll post a statement..." Bella started crying again. It was grating. I laughed. My expression was calm, almost serene. Carter thought I was agreeing. "Fine," he said. "If you take the fall for Bella, I won't divorce you." Looking at him protect her so shamelessly, I realized the love we shared from high school to marriage was rotten. The Carter who waited in line for hours to buy my favorite cronuts, who almost drowned saving me from a flood—he was dead. "Actually, I do mind." I pulled out my phone and dialed the university's ethics board hotline right in front of them. "I'm reporting Bella Davis for academic fraud, contract cheating, and malicious framing. I will not settle." 4 Carter panicked. He tried to snatch my phone. "What are you doing?" he screamed. "You'll ruin her graduation! You're so vicious!" He didn't care about my reputation. He didn't care that I would be blacklisted from every lab in the country. "I am an authority in this field, Carter. Do you think a little mud will stick if I fight back?" Carter insisted it was "just a paper." I looked at him and felt nothing but disgust. Back when we were in the lab together, he used to bring me snacks during all-nighters. He knew how serious plagiarism was. Bella clutched her chest, face pale. "I can't go back to school. Everyone will hate me." When she hired a ghostwriter, she didn't seem worried about hate. "Harper, I know you hate me..." "Save the tears," I snapped. "I'm sick of your act." Carter begged me. But it was useless. We were summoned to the Dean's office. My senior colleague, Julian, was leading the investigation. His face hardened when he saw me. "A lifetime of integrity, ruined by trash," Julian whispered to me. "I told you she was a fraud. She couldn't write that abstract if her life depended on it." Julian had warned me about the "Genius Girl." But I was too busy trying to save my failing marriage to listen. "Sigh." I waited to submit my evidence. Bella couldn't produce a single draft. She just cried and looked at Carter. So, she made a scene. She climbed onto the roof of the library, threatening to jump. A crowd gathered. Carter shouted to the onlookers, "Harper is my wife, but right is right! She made a mistake, and now she's trying to frame Bella! I just want the truth!" Julian stood next to me. "Heart cold yet?" "It's been frozen for a while," I smiled. "Bella is a genius! She published three papers last year!" "Yeah, Harper is just jealous because her husband loves Bella more." The crowd was swaying. Public opinion was turning against me. But then, some people started speaking up. "That's Dr. Harper Vance. There's no way she plagiarized." "Yeah, her citation index is insane. Why would she sabotage an undergrad?" 5 Carter saw me and Julian. "Harper! Get over here and apologize to Bella!" "I think you have that backward," I said, voice amplifying over the crowd. I held up my phone, connected to the Bluetooth speaker system I’d "borrowed" from the AV club. "Your dad asked you to look after Bella, not sleep with her, Carter." "Bella, you have OCD, but you seem fine sleeping in my bed when I'm not home." I broadcasted the photos. The timestamps. The texts. Carter went pale. "Bella is just a kid..." "A kid who knows how to leave hickeys? Carter, I didn't want to air our dirty laundry. But you forced my hand." Bella held the "depression card" like a shield. She would cry and manipulate. I wasn't going to let her control the narrative. "I have proof Bella hired a ghostwriter. I have the bank transfers." The investigation concluded quickly. "Ms. Vance did not participate in the editing of the paper. The plagiarism is solely on Ms. Davis." Bella’s world crumbled. She squatted on the roof, wailing that we were bullying her. "Don't do it, Bella!" Carter screamed. But she didn't jump. She was too terrified of pain. Finally, Carter climbed up and carried her down. The video of her crying "Carter, hold me" went viral. Everyone saw their affair for what it was. My divorce was expedited. That night, at a bar with Julian and the research team, a drunk Carter stumbled in. "I know I messed up, but Harper, are you blameless?" "Security," I said calmly. Julian laughed. "Trash took itself out." The guys tried to drag Carter out, but he clung to the table. "You only care about work! You never cared about us! My family pressured me to have kids, and I never told you because I didn't want to stress you out!" "But from the moment you met me, I was like this," I said. "You said you loved my ambition." "Now you're just bored and looking for a thrill."
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