"But I honestly knew nothing about any of this. So why don't you tell me—what month, what day, what hour, what minute did it happen?"

"And here's the other thing. We're both martial-role actresses. We can hold our own. That cook may be a man, but he's lame in one leg. If the two of us had teamed up, how could he possibly have forced himself on me?"

The questions came one after another, and Sally lost her footing. She backed away, and her voice began to shake.

"The reason I didn't call for help was—"

I cut her off again.

"I understand. You weren't free to act, is that it?"

"Because a girl as kind as you would never have just stood there and let it happen, right?"

Sally nodded fast.

"Right, right, right, I couldn't do anything!"

"My heart ached for you."

But the crowd had caught up by now, and they sensed something off in what she'd said. After all, if Sally were really as kind as she claimed, she wouldn't have picked this exact day to drag the whole thing out.

"If you cared so much about her, why bring it up now?"

"Showing up in a red dress like that—is that for her sake, or do you want to ruin her?"

"You don't think this whole thing is made up, do you?"

"Look at Arlene. So calm. That's the face of a woman with a clear conscience!"

Owen heard the wind change and started to sweat. He cut in, his words loaded with warning.

"Sally, talk is cheap. If you've got no proof, then I can only say you're chasing shadows."

"You think I won't write a complaint and make sure you never set foot in the theater company again?"

Sally realized she'd said too much. But Owen's words snapped her back into focus.

She shouted in a panic.

"I'm not making it up!"

"I have a witness."

The words were barely out of her mouth.

Sally gathered up her skirt and ran out to the yard, then hauled in the cook, Zane Parsons, who'd been lurking outside to watch the show.

Zane had been there the whole time, so of course he knew exactly why she'd called him in.

The moment he stepped inside, he nodded.

"That's right, that's right—me and Arlene Butler really did have a thing!"

It didn't surprise me that he'd admit to it.

He was ugly and sleazy, and if he could spin some scandal with the star of the theater company, he'd be over the moon.

When I didn't deny it, Zane rubbed his hands together and grinned.

"She said so herself—said she worked up too much of an appetite, that one dinner roll wasn't enough. So I gave up my own ration to feed her. She ate my food. Doesn't she owe me a little something for that?"

"And don't any of you blame Sally. She only spoke up today to help Arlene out—she just wanted Arlene to cut ties with me, that's all!"

"She's a good person. Don't you go blaming her!"

"Arlene, don't worry about it either. I'm a stand-up guy. Since it's all out in the open now, you might as well just marry me. It's not much of a match, but you'll never go hungry for a dinner roll, I'll tell you that!"

Before I could react, Owen lunged forward like a man gone mad and slammed his fist into Zane's face.

"Shut your mouth."

"Arlene would never stoop so low for a dinner roll. You forced yourself on her, you used violence!"

"I'm calling the police!"

At the word police, Max and Marilyn jumped in at once.

"No—if you call the police, Arlene really will be ruined!"

Owen heard that, and the fight drained out of him. He sank to the floor. In the end he said nothing more about the police. Instead he took my hand, his voice trembling but firm.

"Arlene, don't be afraid!"

"After everything you've been through, I don't care about any of it!"

“It's you I love, the person, not your body!”

“And this is my fault too. I knew you weren't getting enough to eat and I did nothing about it. I'm the one who drove you to this!”

Owen sounded so very reasonable.

But this time I wasn't moved the way I'd been in my last life, because I understood now: a normal man who truly believed his fiancée would fight her corner, would haul her down to the police station and prove her innocence.

Not stand there muddying the water by confessing on my behalf.

This wasn't him helping me.

This was him nailing down the charge, building himself a tidy reason to walk out, handing my death a respectable excuse.

So I didn't follow Owen's lead.

I stepped back instead, my brow drawing tight.

“Owen, a minute ago you said you believed me. But the second this cook showed up, you swallowed every word, that I'd let a man have his way with me over a single dinner roll!”

“Yes, I train hard. Yes, I go to bed hungry most nights. But I'm not short on cash and I'm not short on groceries. If I were hungry, why wouldn't I just go buy food? Why would I ever go crawling to a cook?”

“You stood there swearing you didn't care about my past. But did you ever once ask me?”

“I like being clean. I don't want people pointing at me and calling me a whore!”

A laugh slipped out of me then before I could stop it.

“Anyone who didn't know better might think you love me. Anyone watching this would think you couldn't wait to pin the crime on me.”

“Don't tell me……”

I let my voice climb on purpose.

“Don't tell me you just enjoy playing the cuckold?”

The words landed.

The whole room broke into laughter, finally catching what I'd caught, that Owen's little speech had been all about moving himself, and it had buried me completely.

Naturally Max and Marilyn weren't about to watch their son take a smear like that.

Cursing, they charged at me to slap the words right out of my mouth.

But I hadn't earned the title of lead performer for nothing. A few effortless flips, a couple of dodges, and I sent both of them sprawling.

I yanked the flower from my hair and flicked it into Owen's face.

Then I pointed at where Max and Marilyn lay.

“See that? That's what you do when you actually believe in someone!”

“Owen, your kind of belief comes cheap. I'm not spending my married life getting smeared by you every single day, so this wedding, it's off.”

Owen was furious and frantic all at once.

He'd staged this whole scene to walk away with the halo of the good man, so that after I was dead and he married again, nobody could whisper behind his back. He hadn't counted on me staying calm, turning the tide in three or four sentences, and now turning it into a perfectly justified breakup of my own.

“Arlene, that's not what I meant.”

“I only didn't want things blowing up. I do believe you, I swear!”

“I'm certain this whole thing is a lie, that Sally's just jealous and trying to ruin you. If you want to prove yourself, I'll go to the hospital with you, get you examined, get it in writing!”

Sally didn't want me calling off the engagement either.

After all, if the wedding fell through, how was she supposed to take my place at the State Theater Company?

So she squeezed out tears too.

“The truth is, I was joking!”

“None of it's real. I only wanted to test whether Owen really loved you!”

“You've got so many admirers, what if there's gossip down the line? Wouldn't that be awful? I'm admitting it now, I lied, I'm sorry, just don't throw away a match this good because of me!”

As she spoke, she shot Zane a look, signaling him to hurry up and admit he'd lied too.

Zane Parsons didn't want to.

But he forced the word out anyway.

"That's—"

I didn't give him the chance to finish.

I looked around at the crowd, my face set.

"Yes. Zane had his way with me."