I never thought I’d end up in this orange jumpsuit. Even during the years when I was almost dying of poverty, I never considered breaking the law.

But now, Simon personally sent me to prison. His eyes were slightly red as he approached to hug me and I didn’t move away. “Zara, as long as you admit it, I’ll marry you when you get out,” he promised.

I nodded, pretending to be touched, then turned away. I couldn’t react to the man who had personally sent me to prison; I just felt exhausted, a tiredness that ran deep. The orange jumpsuit felt like a shroud, suffocating me with its vivid reminder of my predicament. The bars clanged shut behind me, a harsh punctuation to my life as I had known it.

I met Simon in high school when he was a bully who made my life miserable.

Maybe it was because I was good-looking, or maybe he just saw how poor I was and decided he wanted to “support” me. He called it support, but really, it was just using me to clean up his messes. My role was to take the blame and occasionally make his dream girl, Scarlett, jealous.

I was content with the money and the promise of marriage. But while my reputation was in tatters, my grades were good enough that not many people bothered me. I relied on Simon’s money to get through high school and college, even managing to save some.

Scarlett hadn’t asked me to take the blame in a long time, so I was shocked when she did this time, especially for something so serious. I didn’t even know who she had killed. The trial was a blur of accusations and pleas and before I knew it, I was sentenced. Three years later, Simon kept his promise.

Somehow, he managed to reduce the murder charge to attempted murder and I was out in just three years. I still couldn’t understand why it had to be me. No one came to pick me up when I was released, so I wandered back to my tiny house alone, dazed and uncertain about what was next.

The city felt alien, its streets both familiar and changed. My tiny house, the one beacon of stability in my life, stood waiting for me. Fortunately, I had saved enough money to buy the house after graduation; if I had been renting, the landlord would not have wanted to lease to an ex-con like me.

My parents had died long ago and I finished college with no one to rely on, so my little house was all I had to get by. Simon transferred the money he promised and Scarlett, along with her parents, did the same. Seeing the increasing zeros in my bank balance, I laughed, then cried, feeling hypocritical as I wiped my tears and forced a smile. For the first time, I realized how hard it was to genuinely laugh.

Then my phone rang. It was Simon. “Zara, I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up today. Scarlett caught a cold.”

I nodded, feeling sullen. “Simon, the contract has expired.”

There was a long silence on the other end, so long that I lost patience. Now I didn’t have much patience for Simon anymore. Finally, he said, “Can I pay more and renew the contract?”

“Pay it first, or I won’t consider renewing the contract,” I replied. Simon lightly agreed and hung up. Shortly after, the money came through, ten times more than the original amount and I didn’t plan on returning the extra.

I didn’t think Simon or Scarlett owed me anything; they paid for my three years, but it felt like a forced sale. Honestly, those years were awfully taken from me, so I accepted the “after-sales service.” The money was supposed to buy my silence, but it only fueled my resolve to seek justice.

Simon always arrogantly thought he was a desirable man, that marrying him was an honor, which was why he said he’d marry me when I got out. He was so confident, probably knowing how much this whole ordeal affected me. His arrogance was his weakness, one I planned to exploit.

After sorting through my chaotic thoughts, I started thinking about how to send Scarlett to jail. If Scarlett went to jail, Simon would have to follow. But I still couldn’t understand why Scarlett did it. Her actions didn’t make sense and in three years, all evidence must have been destroyed, but the dead couldn’t be resurrected.

Simon called me repeatedly, asking for a meeting, but I ignored him. Then, he called again, his voice loud and insistent, “Zara, let’s meet.”

I refused. “Open the window,” he demanded, “I’m downstairs.”

I didn’t expect him to actually be outside, but there he was, standing under the dim streetlight with an impatient look on his face. Reluctantly, I went downstairs, wearing only a thin sweater in my haste.

Simon smiled when he saw me as he said, “Zara, happy release from prison.” The sight of him made me feel sick. Keeping my distance, I said, “You know I didn’t have to go to prison. Cut the bullshit.”

His smile faltered, cracking like a mask. “You’ve lost a lot of weight. Why are you wearing so little? Aren’t you cold?” I stared at him, expressionless. “Without money transactions between us, I don’t see the point in talking to you.”

Simon dropped the act. “I promised I’d marry you after you got out… I’ll give you what you deserve.”

“Is it really always about money?” I asked.

Simon’s smile was genuine this time when he said, “Zara, you saw what money could do three years ago.” I was silent for a long time, amazed at his shamelessness, his tone full of self-satisfaction.

“Simon, do you think you’ll have the last laugh?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Not necessarily, but the person who will compete with me won’t be you.” Then he added, “Zara, you’ve been in jail for three years and somehow you’re even more attractive. Are you sure you don’t want to renew our arrangement?”

I smiled. “You’ll soon find yourself in my shoes.”

Simon was stunned, then recovered and smiled. “If I got you in once, I can do it again.”

I replied, “Simon, why do you think Scarlett doesn’t want to be with you? Isn’t it obvious? Don’t you know why she even talked to you last time?”

Simon seemed irritated, grabbing my throat with his hands. “Shut up! Are you even worthy of mentioning her name?!”

I tilted my head and forced out a smile, squeezing out a hoarse “How pitiful.”

For a moment, I thought I was going to die, but then Simon suddenly let go and smiled at me—a chilling, eerie smile. “Zara, don’t you want to know who Scarlett killed?”

I paused, then asked, “Who?” Simon laughed. “Aren’t you surprised that no one contacted you after you were released? Zara, who is more pitiful between us?”

My mind went blank. Simon leaned close and whispered, “It’s the beggar who used to pick up garbage at our school’s gate. Zara, you knew him, right?”

My thoughts froze and I grabbed Simon’s arm. “Say it again? Who did she kill? Who?” Simon laughed mockingly. “It doesn’t matter how many times I say it.”

“The homeless man had died. You’re the only one with a deep connection to him. Why did you have to go to jail? Because you’re the only one who cares about him, so you would probably collect evidence, but what if you don’t have time to search?”

I was stunned. Everything was calculated. Simon continued, “You’re smart, high school and college tuition were free, you could definitely find out if you wanted to, but time will consume more than you think.”

Then, he reached into my purse. I tried to stop him, but he was quicker. “A recorder? Zara, is this your little trick?” I said nothing as I watched him break the recorder in half.

Simon’s eyes gleamed with a cruel satisfaction as he tossed the broken pieces to the ground. “You really thought you could trap me, didn’t you? How naive.”

I glared at him, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and fury. “You won’t get away with this, Simon. You and Scarlett will pay for what you’ve done.”

Simon leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. “No, Zara. You’re the one who will pay if you don’t play along. You’ve already seen what we’re capable of. Do you really want to test us again?”

His words hung heavy in the air, a suffocating threat that made my skin crawl. I had underestimated Simon’s ruthlessness and now I realized just how deep his manipulations went. But I also knew I couldn’t let fear control me. I had to find a way to outsmart him, to bring him and Scarlett to justice.

I straightened, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as I could muster. “You may think you hold all the cards, Simon, but you don’t. I’ve survived prison. I can survive anything you throw at me.”

Simon laughed, a dark, mocking sound that echoed in the quiet night. “We’ll see about that, Zara. Just remember, you’re playing a dangerous game.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the cold. My mind raced with a thousand thoughts, each more terrifying than the last. The beggar… I had known him, had often given him my leftover food and chatted with him when no one else would. The thought of him being dead and Scarlett being the one responsible, filled me with a deep, burning rage.