The class fell silent.

Adam continued, "Then let me ask you this. Can any of you guarantee that every single one of your parents and ancestors was a saint?"

One by one, they lowered their heads in shame. I was won over too, by that razor-sharp sense of justice and the silver tongue that delivered it.

I said yes when he asked me to be his girlfriend.

Honestly, before I met him, dating had never crossed my mind. My mother's scandal had left deep scars, and I carried that darkness everywhere I went.

He was the light that found me there, warming every shadow until it was gone.

And now here I stood, drenched in a downpour, unable to make sense of any of it.

How could someone that good become the man standing in front of me now?

My vision went black. I hit the ground.

When I woke, it was already night. I was lying in a hospital bed with an IV needle taped to the back of my hand, fluid dripping steadily into my veins.

The doctor said, "You've been under too much emotional stress. You need to stay calm and rest."

I said, "Okay."

The word barely left my mouth before my phone rang.

It was Adam. I hesitated, then hesitated again, and still picked up.

"Valerie's gown got dirty. Go get that Starlit Night dress I ordered for you and bring it over. She needs a change."

So her name is Valerie. I repeated it silently to myself.

Starlit Night. Adam had commissioned a designer to tailor that gown to my exact measurements. It was meant for the party on our wedding night.

He used to refuse to let anyone so much as touch it. He said even a fingerprint would taint what it stood for.

Now he was tossing it to someone else like it was nothing.

Maybe it really was nothing anymore.

Still...

"Adam, I'm on an IV right now."

"You're perfectly fine. What do you need an IV for? Don't you dare throw a tantrum right now, or I swear you'll regret it."

Fine. One last thing. Consider it repayment for the day you saved me.

I didn't wait for the drip to finish. I asked the nurse to pull the needle, walked back out into the storm, took a cab home, grabbed the gown, and delivered it to him without stopping to catch my breath.

Adam said, "Valerie's waiting for you at the entrance. She wants to say thank you. Be gracious about it."

I gave a quiet "mm" and hung up.

But what Valerie gave me wasn't a thank-you. It was a slap across the face.

I never saw it coming. My head snapped sideways, my body spinning half a turn, and the gown slipped from my hands onto the ground.

Valerie burst into tears instantly, her voice trembling with wounded innocence. "I told you, if you didn't want to bring it, you could've just said so. Why did you have to throw the dress on the ground?"

I've never been good at reading between the lines. I had no idea what she was playing at.

But Adam seemed to understand perfectly. He strode out of the hotel in seconds.

Valerie turned on him immediately. "Adam, is this what you meant when you said she'd behave? That she wouldn't give me trouble?"

Adam glanced at the gown crumpled on the ground, and just like that, he'd made up his mind.

Another slap landed on my face. "I've spoiled you rotten, haven't I? Apologize to Valerie. Now."

I laughed. The kind of laugh that comes when fury burns past its own limit. "Adam, do you even hear yourself? Did you bother to ask where the handprint on my left cheek came from?"

Valerie didn't even try to hide it. She tugged at Adam's sleeve, blinking up at him. "I hit her. Are you going to be mad at me, Adam? I just lost my temper when she threw the dress on the ground. I couldn't help myself."

"You know how I am. I've always had a bad temper."

Adam pulled her against him by the waist. "I'm not mad. She deserved it."

Valerie flashed me a triumphant little smile.

I smiled too. Tears spilled down my cheeks, but I smiled. I'm the fool here.

But even a fool only had to endure three more days of this. Three days, and I would vanish from their world for good.

Adam, I hope you don't end up the same way as the man who ruined my mother.

Eighteen years later, she'd still be repenting online for what she did that night.

"I'm sorry, Valerie. I shouldn't have thrown your gown on the floor."

But Valerie had no intention of letting me off that easily. "An apology should look like an apology. Otherwise, I'll think you're not sincere."

"Then what would you have me do?"

"Tell everyone here that you wanted to be Adam Sanchez's mistress. That you're just as slutty as your mother. Oh wait, no. You're worse than your mother."

"I don't want to be anyone's mistress. Adam and I are done."

I even pulled off the ring right in front of her. The one I'd planned to wear at our wedding.

"Take it back. We're finished."

Adam froze mid-step. He didn't reach for it. The ring hit the floor.

"I say you wanted it, so you wanted it."

Valerie grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me into the hotel banquet hall.

"Everyone, come look! Here's a woman who was begging to be someone's mistress!"

Someone asked, "Isn't that Adam Sanchez's girlfriend?"

"Not anymore." Adam's voice was flat. "My girlfriend is Valerie Herring. The new secretary at my company."

"Ah, that explains it." Knowing laughter rippled through the crowd.

A woman stepped forward. "I always said a mistress's daughter would grow up to be a mistress too. And to think, Adam, you used to defend her."

Valerie chimed in. "Oh, she even slapped herself across the face twice, trying to get his sympathy."

"But our Adam is a man of principle. He'd never fall for that kind of cheap seduction."

As she said this, Valerie leaned into Adam's chest.

I saw the way his expression twisted, something deeply uncomfortable passing across his face. But his mouth still moved in agreement. "Whatever you say, babe."

The words cut into me again. I opened my mouth to explain, but before I could get a single syllable out, someone threw a glass of champagne straight at my face. "You're a disgrace to women everywhere. Are there no single men left? You had to go after someone who's taken?"

The alcohol hit my open mouth. I choked, gasping, unable to speak, coughing so violently my ribs ached.

Then someone else followed suit, splashing another glass across my face.

"Homewreckers deserve to die."

After that it was one glass after another. Some drenched my chest. Some poured over the top of my head.

Someone grabbed my jaw, pried my mouth open, and kept pouring liquor down my throat.

I was the one being humiliated, branded a mistress, brutalized in front of everyone. And Valerie, the real other woman, was nestled in Adam's arms, laughing like she'd never been happier.

I couldn't even cry out that I was innocent before they shoved me to the ground. When the drinks ran out, they used their fists. Their shoes.

There it was. The thing I'd feared most had finally come.

My mother had lived through this exact nightmare before she died. The mob, the humiliation, the hotel. In the end, the shame was too much for her. She climbed to the rooftop and jumped.

That was why I'd broken things off with Adam so decisively. Because I was terrified this day would come.

And it came anyway, dressed up as justice, delivered through a lie.

The shadows Adam had once chased away gathered again, darker and thicker than before, closing over me. There was no light left in my world.

The light that had once shone on me was shining on someone else now.

I saw it. Adam was smiling at Valerie. Smiling so wide his eyes glistened with tears.

How happy he must have been.

Adam Sanchez. Why was the person who pulled me out of hell the same person who threw me back in?

Something snapped. I tore free from the crowd like a woman possessed, stumbled into the elevator the way my mother once had, and rode it all the way to the hotel rooftop.

Maybe because he remembered my mother too, Adam came running after me, his face white with panic, screaming, "Rosie, don't!"

But I didn't follow my mother off the edge.

I went up. One rung at a time, I climbed the ladder hanging from the helicopter above.