Chloe Miller called me in tears, claiming she had been in a car accident.

Afraid her brother would blame her, she begged me, his wife, to negotiate with the other party on her behalf.

When I rushed to the scene, the two cars were wrecked beyond recognition. The young woman, Emily Brooks, lay lifeless in a pool of blood. Rage boiled inside me.

But Chloe only looked at me coldly, a cruel and cunning smile tugging at her lips.

“Sister-in-law, what are you talking about? I don’t understand… wasn’t it you who hit her?”

“Otherwise, why are you here in the middle of the night?”

“And driving the car my brother gave you?”

Her words struck me like lightning, leaving me stunned and unable to think. My first instinct was to call the police and get an ambulance to confirm the girl’s condition. But when I hung up, Chloe had already vanished.

Panicked, I searched for her and left the scene. When the police later dragged me to the station, I was accused of hit-and-run.

Terrified, I immediately called Jason Miller, begging him to ask the Miller family’s lawyer to help me. He came—but instead of helping, he accused me of being mentally ill and claimed I couldn’t remember the accident. As my husband, he even signed the confession papers on my behalf.

Because of the so-called “mental illness,” I wasn’t detained immediately, but I was forbidden from leaving New York City.

I couldn’t believe that the man I had been married to for five years would frame me for a crime. Choking back tears, I ran after him and asked why he was doing this.

He shook off my hand, still smiling, though his words were as cold as ice.

“What else could I do? You went against Chloe first, insisting on suing the person who hurt her. I’m just giving you a taste of what it feels like to be falsely accused.”

“You can’t handle this? Then how do you think Chloe felt when she was dragged through a lawsuit?”

Seeing me broken and lost, Jason sighed heavily.

“Rachel Evans, I’ve told you before—Chloe is my only sister, my family. Hurting her means crossing my bottom line.”

“You’ve been a lawyer for years; I’m sure you’ll find a way out. But I want you to remember this mistake for the rest of your life—never repeat it.”

My eyes burned with unshed tears.

“I didn’t do it! Chloe deliberately hurt someone. She killed my client in revenge!”

“You’re still in denial! Chloe is part of the Miller family. She has everything she could ever want—why would she target some intern who just joined the company?”

“If you apologize to her, drop the charges, and clear her name, I can get you out of this.”

He either didn’t know the truth or didn’t care what I said. Chloe had intentionally slashed Emily Brooks’s face in the stairwell—just because she spoke to Jason at a meeting. I only wanted to stand up for the victim, but in his eyes, that became my crime.

In five years of marriage, this wasn’t the first time Jason ignored me for Chloe.

Once, when we were on a date in the suburban mountains, Chloe called, claiming she was being harassed at a bar in Manhattan. Jason immediately abandoned me, driving off to rescue her.

I trudged twenty kilometers down a rain-soaked mountain trail. When my phone finally regained signal, his first call wasn’t to check on me—it was to demand I pick her up from the police station.

Normally calm and detached, Jason would repeatedly make exceptions for Chloe. He knew the best solution was to seek forgiveness, but he still raged about breaking someone’s leg.

And so it went, countless times.

In our marriage, there were always three people.

As long as Chloe frowned, I had to step aside.

I stared at the resolute man before me, his voice from our proposal echoing in my ears.

“You’ll be a lawyer, and I’ll be your strongest support—clearing every obstacle on your path to truth and justice.”

I never imagined that, in the end, the biggest obstacle to my pursuit of justice would be my own husband.

Without another glance at me, Jason Miller carried the gifts he had bought for Chloe and got into his car. At that moment, my heart completely died.

I dialed a number. When Sarah Johnson picked up, her gasp was immediate.

“You’re kidding, right? The news online—about the hit-and-run… is it true?”

“How could it be? You’ve known me for ten years, Sarah. I, Rachel Evans, have always despised lawbreakers. The news is fake. But Jason signed the confession in my name, even claimed I was mentally ill. I can’t even appeal now… my only option is through him.”

“It sounds complicated. Forget it, let’s meet in person.”

Because of the online harassment, I couldn’t appear in public. Whenever I did, I was immediately surrounded by insults.

When I arrived at Sarah’s place, she was furious. Everything breakable on her table had already been smashed.

“Has Jason lost his mind? Five years ago, he was swearing eternal devotion, and now he’s turned his back on you like this?”

“And Chloe—what is she anyway? A mistress inserting herself into someone else’s marriage, and she actually thinks she’s worth something?”

“You’re a lawyer. How can you tolerate this humiliation? Just tell me what to do—I’ll always stand on your side!”

Her words warmed me. I reached out to pat her back in comfort.

“Yes, I’m a lawyer. But the Evans Law Firm has already been forced to close by Jason. I can’t fight against the Miller family’s power. There’s only one person I can turn to.”

Her smile stiffened, her eyes flickering evasively.

“That man… we haven’t been in contact since you got married. He liked you, not me. How could he ever lower himself to reach out through me?”

I chuckled softly.

“You really think I don’t know you’ve been secretly updating him about me all these years?”

“But you once said the Hughes family wasn’t clean either—that they had shady business overseas. You refused him no matter what. And now, if you show up at his door and he rejects you…”

I shook my head firmly.

“He won’t reject me. Help me contact him. This is my only chance.”

After saying that, I opened my phone. The screen was filled with vicious comments about me.

“I always knew she wasn’t a good person. Instead of improving her skills as a lawyer, she married into a wealthy family. That firm of hers probably existed just to hook a rich man!”

“A lawyer who breaks the law herself? She should be executed on the spot! So what if she’s ‘mentally ill’? Murder is still murder!”

“The victim was only twenty, still in college. Her life destroyed by Rachel Evans—if she survives this, I’ll go kill someone too!”

“At least Jason Miller has sense. Even her own husband testified against her. How can Rachel ever show her face again?”

Tears fell onto the screen. Almost unconsciously, I tapped open Chloe’s latest Instagram post.

Two hours ago, she had uploaded a picture from the rooftop of a luxury hotel in Manhattan, enjoying the breeze. On the table were bottles of wine symbolizing romance, while the ground was covered with countless gifts from Jason—Chanel, Van Cleef & Arpels, and brands so luxurious I couldn’t even pronounce their names.

The caption was only a single line:

“They say if the sky falls, he’ll hold it up for me. As long as I’m happy, that’s his greatest joy in life.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away, torturing myself with every word.

Sarah Johnson snatched the phone from my hands, furious.

“These two shameless bastards!”

“He’s cheating on you during your marriage and still has the audacity to frame you?”

“Rachel, choosing him was your biggest mistake from the start!”

“If only the man from the Hughes family…”

Realizing what she’d said, she quickly covered her mouth.

I gave a bitter smile.

“You’re right. The so-called dirt about the Hughes family overseas—that was fed to me by Jason Miller.”

“I trusted him so much I didn’t even bother to verify it.”

“Looking back now… maybe the truth was never what we thought it was.”

I took the phone back, only to see another post beneath it. This one was an obituary notice—an invitation from Emily Brooks’s family to her funeral. It was scheduled for tomorrow.

Thinking of that innocent, lively girl—her face slashed, yet still smiling with optimism—I felt a pang of guilt. I had failed her trust.

“Tomorrow I want to attend her funeral, to see her off one last time.”

Sarah nodded and urged me to be careful, before retreating to her bedroom for rest.

I didn’t sleep a wink that night. With dark circles under my eyes, I arrived at the funeral the next morning—only to run into Chloe Miller.

She was holding a basket of supplements, bowing deeply as she apologized to the grieving family.

“It was my fault for not listening to my brother. I should’ve stopped my sister-in-law from going out alone. If I’d been more careful, maybe this wouldn’t have happened…”

Her voice trembled with tears, her appearance pitiful. She even took the victim’s mother’s hand.

“Auntie, don’t worry. My brother promised he won’t shield his wife from punishment. The confession has already been signed. Just wait for my news—the murderer will face justice!”

Instead of anger, the family seemed touched by Chloe’s thoughtfulness, even thanking her.

I couldn’t stand it any longer. I stormed forward and yanked her away.

“What are you doing here? What lies are you spewing?”

“You slashed her face yourself, and you killed her in that crash! What right do you have to show up at her funeral? Get out!”

But Chloe only cried harder at the sight of me.

“Sister-in-law, I know you can’t remember what you did when you’re unwell, but you can’t just falsely accuse me!”

“When that girl was attacked, I was in Jason’s office. He testified for me. You’re his wife—you were just jealous she was younger and prettier, so you lost control and made a mistake.”

“I’ve been apologizing on your behalf, and you don’t even appreciate it. How can you throw baseless accusations like this?”

The words had barely left her lips before Emily’s family surged toward me.

“You monster! How dare you come to my daughter’s funeral?”

“She isn’t even cold in the ground, and you show up like this?”

“Did you come here to flaunt yourself? I’ll kill you and make you pay with your life!”

Though Chloe mouthed empty words about keeping calm, she deliberately stepped aside, giving them a clear path to reach me.

“Rachel, don’t you remember? You were the one who scratched her face in the stairwell. She screamed so loudly, even begged you on her knees to let her go—promising never to speak to my brother again…”

“And you had been drinking when you ran her down. Otherwise, why would you flee the scene?”

At that, Emily’s mother lunged forward and tore at my hair.

“You wretched woman! My daughter was only twenty! Just twenty when she died!”

“She used to tell me how wonderful the Miller Group was, and I was so happy for her. Who would’ve thought she’d run into a rabid dog like you?”