I let out a quiet sigh.

So much for slipping out unnoticed.

I walked over anyway. "Hi, Ms. Connell."

Talia stepped closer, eyes dragging over my cheap uniform. A smile spread—fake and smug. "It really is you. Working as a server now? And not even inside?" She clicked her tongue. "Must be rough."

She grabbed my hand, already pulling me toward the inner hall, all sweet like she cared.

"Come on, I'll get you inside. Way easier. You might even run into Dad and Mom!"

After two steps, she paused—like she'd just remembered Vivian and the others.

Her face flipped cold.

"You're all fired. Get out. Now." A sharp look. "Filthy trash."

Their legs almost gave out. No one dared speak, let alone beg.

They couldn't touch Talia, so their glares stabbed into my back instead.

Typical Talia.

The second we stepped into the inner hall, she put on that fake 'oops' face. "Joanna, I just remembered—we don't need extra staff in here." A small smile. "Restrooms and trash still need cleaning, though. What do you think...?"

I knew exactly what Talia was doing.

But compared to everything I'd dealt with on my own these past years? This was nothing.

"Alright. I'll handle it."

No hesitation. I took the cleaning supplies.

I was working the trash bins in the corner when the star of the banquet—Bryson's mom, Adeline—made her entrance.

Before anyone could crowd her with compliments, her voice cut through the room, sharp and cold.

"How am I supposed to live long?" she snapped. "Look at the wife you married. She's ruined this family's future."

I looked up.

Five years had passed, but time had been very kind to Bryson. Still handsome. Still impossible to ignore.

Just... colder now. A shadow sat between his brows.

Losing his ability to have kids clearly hit hard.

Bryson said nothing. Talia forced a tight smile. "Please don't be upset. It's bad for your health—"

"Don't act close to me," Adeline snapped. "I can't stand it." Her voice sharpened. "If you hadn't insisted on street racing, would Bryson be like this? What did our family do to deserve this? My perfectly fine son—ruined by you. Ruined to the point he can't even have an heir!"

She turned on Talia's parents, Darren and Margot, who stood there like statues.

"And you two! This is the daughter you brought back? Look at what she's done to my son. Happy now?"

Their quiet apologies barely carried across the room.

Adeline only got more worked up, years of resentment spilling out. "Back then, that girl from your family—Joanna—I thought she was great. Quiet, well-behaved. Bryson must've lost his mind to marry this disaster. I regret it every day!"

Talia's face darkened.

The second my name came up, it was all there—resentment, humiliation. Barely hidden. Then her eyes flicked, and she grabbed the moment.

"Adeline, what a coincidence. You just mentioned Joanna—I actually saw her here tonight."

Before anyone could react, she was already walking toward me.

Next thing I knew, I was dragged straight into the center of the hall.

Under the bright lights, there was nowhere to hide. My worn uniform. The half-wet rag in my hand. All of it, on display.

Humiliation hit hard—first time in a while.

I forced a smile. "Madam Adeline, hello. Mr. Connell. Mrs. Connell."

Adeline looked at me, something unreadable in her eyes. The praise from earlier? Gone. Just awkward now.

Darren and Margot froze too—clearly not expecting to see me like this.

A heavy silence dropped—then someone snickered.

It spread fast.

"Oh my God... it's really her? The one who used to follow Bryson around?"

"Tsk. Look at that uniform—lowest-level cleaner, right? And that rag? Ms. Connell's already being nicer than she deserves. If it were me, I'd've had security toss her out. Just standing here kills the vibe."

"I heard she got a huge settlement after the breakup. How'd she end up like this? Blew it all on some guy, probably."

The humiliation came in waves, ready to drown me—

"Enough."

I didn't expect Bryson to step in.

His face was blank, eyes sweeping the room.

Silence. Instant.

Only then did he look at me.

His voice softened—almost like pity. "Joanna, why are you working here as a cleaner? When we broke up, didn't I give you a lot of money?"

Money?

I looked up, confused.

All these years, I hadn't seen a single cent.

After Kyle was born, I couldn't even cover rent. I went back to work before I'd even healed, picking up whatever jobs I could.

My lips parted. The question slipped out. "What money?"

Three words. Heavy.

Bryson's eyes tightened, shock flashing through.

His gaze snapped to Talia. "Talia. Where's the money?"

Talia froze, stammering, nothing coming out.

She shot a desperate look at Margot.

Margot rushed over, reaching for my arm—I slipped back just enough. Her hand hung there, awkward.

Then she forced a scolding tone. "Oh, Joanna, you silly girl. You left so suddenly back then. We've been holding onto that money for you—we just never had the chance to give it to you. This is all a misunderstanding."

Darren nodded beside her, rubbing his hands. "Yes, yes, we always remembered."

The lie was... bad. Like, painfully obvious.

Bryson's face went cold. His eyes locked on Talia. "Thirty million. Not a cent less. Transfer it to Joanna by noon tomorrow." A beat. "Or you won't be Mrs. Harding anymore."

Talia clearly didn't see that coming—especially not here.

She shot me a look, pure venom, then forced a smile. "Bryson, that's on me. Don't worry, I'll handle it tomorrow."

I let out a quiet breath. I wasn't getting pulled back into their mess.

All I wanted was a quiet life with Kyle.

"You can keep the money. I'm doing fine." I paused. "I still have work, so I'll get back to it."

I didn't wait for a response. Just turned and walked off.

The banquet picked right back up like nothing happened. Laughter, chatter. Meanwhile, I went back to work.

Rag. Bucket. One last stall, then I could take Kyle home.

Then—noise. Sudden, sharp.

Talia's voice cut through everything, high and panicked.

"How is that possible?! I was just wearing it! That diamond bracelet was five million—how does it just disappear?!"

My heart dropped. Something felt off—bad.

Then Talia kept going, voice sharp with suspicion. "Just now... Joanna was the only one near me. Before I linked arms with her, my bracelet was still there. So could it be—"

She didn't even need to finish.

The stall door slammed open. A bodyguard yanked me out.

"I didn't do it! I've been working this whole time—I didn't touch anything! Let me go!"

I fought back hard, but it didn't matter.

I didn't stand a chance.

Talia rushed over, all fake concern. "Joanna, I'm so sorry—really. That bracelet's extremely valuable. I can't lose it. I just want to check. If it's not on you, I'll let you go right away and apologize."

Yeah. Sure.

Her hand went straight for my right pocket.

And just like that—she pulled it out.

The bracelet.

The room exploded.

Disgust. Contempt. All of it crashing straight at me.

Talia stumbled back a step, clutching the bracelet like she'd just been betrayed. Her face twisted with hurt—real convincing.

"Joanna... how could you?" she said softly. "If you needed money, you could've told me. Why would you... steal?"

Police and security showed up.

The evidence? Right there. In front of everyone.

My chest tightened. I looked around, panic rising, face drained. "It wasn't me! I swear—I don't know how it got in my pocket!"

Desperate, I grabbed Bryson's sleeve.

I had nowhere else to go.

"Bryson, we grew up together. You know me. I'd never steal. Please—help me. I was set up!"

Tears blurred everything.

He looked at me—at my red, wet eyes. Something flickered... then vanished.

He lifted a hand, brushed the tears from the corner of my eye.

Then his voice went cold.

"Joanna, you know me. I only believe what I can see."

Bryson didn't believe me.

Of course he didn't.

The lead officer stepped forward, voice firm. "Ma'am, you're suspected of theft involving a high-value item. You'll need to come with us for further investigation."

Click.

Cold cuffs snapped around my wrists.

I looked at Bryson.

Nothing came out.

Old wounds ripped open, that dull ache spreading through my chest, heavy enough to take me down.

We grew up together.

He once said he'd protect me. Forever.

Yeah. Right.

Then why does he keep being the one who breaks me?

As they led me away, Talia stepped in close. Just enough so only I could hear.

"Bitch," she whispered, smug as hell. "Did you really think you could beat me?"

Just like that, they shoved me into the police car and drove off.

***

Third-Person POV

In the staff lounge, Vivian and the others shoved their stuff into bags, faces totally wrecked.

"This is all Joanna's fault. She did it on purpose. She saw people coming and didn't even warn us."

The intern scoffed. "Right? She should've stayed locked up as a thief. Ten years, minimum. Let's see how cocky she is then."

Vivian said nothing. Losing her job hit hard. Her face went dark as she yanked her backpack zipper shut, teeth grinding.

They were about to head out when Vivian caught something in the corner of her eye.

A small figure.

Joanna's kid—Kyle.

He sat quietly, flipping through an old picture book. No running, no noise.

Vivian's eyes locked on him. And just like that, a nasty idea clicked.

She dropped her bag, pasted on a smile, and walked over.

"Kyle, reading a picture book? Such a good boy."

Kyle looked a little shy but still nodded. "Hello, Ms. Finch."

Vivian hummed and reached out, all fake sweet, patting his hair.

"Kyle, I need to tell you something. Your mom just got taken by the police. They said she did something bad."

"What?!"

The book slipped from his hands and smacked the floor.

He shook his head fast, voice trembling. "My mom wouldn't do anything bad!"

Vivian sighed, all fake sympathy. "I believe her too. That's why you have to save her." She pointed toward the main hall. "Don't cry. Go out there and run to the brightest, busiest place.

"Once you're inside, find... hmm, a really well-dressed, powerful-looking old lady.

"When you see her, beg her to save your mom. Tell her to make the police let her go. Remember—only she can help."

Kyle was too young to catch the trap.

"Thank you!" he cried.

Kyle didn't even grab the book. He bolted for the banquet hall.

Vivian leaned in the doorway, watching him go, a twisted smile creeping across her face.

The others crowded around her, nervous but kinda excited. "Vivian... this won't cause trouble, right?"

"Trouble?" She let out a short laugh. "What trouble? Worst case, it annoys the Harding family and makes Joanna's life in prison even worse. And if that brat gets lost? Not our problem."

She turned and walked off, leading them out like she'd just won something.

Kyle was scared.

But for his mom, he ran straight into the main banquet hall.

One look—that was all it took. He spotted the older woman in the center, surrounded by people.

She stood out. Dressed to kill, everyone treating her like she owned the place.

'It's her.'

No time to think. Saving his mom was all that mattered. He pushed through the crowd, forcing his way forward.

Crying, Kyle slammed right into Adeline.

"Ma'am, please tell the police to let my mommy go!"

Adeline stumbled, caught off guard, but someone beside her steadied her fast.

She looked down, ready to snap—then froze.

"Oh my, whose child is—"

That face.

The whole room went silent.

The brows, the eyes, the nose—he looked exactly like Bryson when he was a kid.

At the same time, Bryson rushed over.

One look at Kyle and he just... stopped. Then he scooped him up, stunned. "Kid, who are your parents?"

Kyle shrank back, scared by everything. "Please save my mommy! The police took her! Mommy... I can't find Mommy. Her name is Joanna."