---- Chapter 5 Farah Moore POV: | spent a week in the hospital, my body slowly mending while my spirit hardened. Brandon never came back. Danial visited every day, playing the part of the devoted fiancé, bringing flowers and bland hospital food. | endured his presence, my silence a wall he couldn't penetrate. The day | was discharged, | returned to the apartment that no longer felt like home. The first thing | did was start to pack. Not my things, but his. Everything | touched was a memory, a ghost of the life | thought we had. | picked up a framed photo from the nightstand. It was from our first anniversary, both of us smiling, happy. He had hated this photo. "It's too public," he'd said. "We should keep our relationship private." | realize now he just didn't want any evidence of me. | methodically stripped the apartment of his presence. His clothes, his books, his favorite coffee mug. | called the maids. "Get rid of all the furniture," | told the head housekeeper, Mrs. Gable. "The sofa, the bed, the dining table. All of it. | want it gone by tonight. Replace it with whatever is in the warehouse." She stared at me, her eyes wide with shock. "Miss Moore, but ---- ... Mr. Carlson chose all of this himself." "| know," | said, my voice flat. "That's why | want it gone." | took the engagement photo from the living room wall, the one where he looked so handsome and | looked so blissfully naive. Without a second thought, | fed it into the office shredder. The machine whirred, turning our smiling faces into thin, meaningless strips of paper. Five years of love, of devotion, of sacrifice. When | was done, all that was left of him fit into a single, small suitcase. It was a pathetic testament to a love that had been a lie. As | stood in the newly barren living room, the doorbell rang. | opened the door, expecting Mrs. Gable's replacement crew. But the hallway was empty. Confused, | stepped out to look. A sudden, sharp pain exploded at the back of my head. The world went black. | woke up on a plush carpet, my hands and feet bound tightly with rope. The air was thick with the cloying scent of cheap perfume. | was in a private room at a nightclub, the kind of place Brandon would never be caught dead in. Caryl was sitting on a velvet sofa across from me, a triumphant smirk on her face. She was no longer wearing her eye bandages. Her eyes, both of them clear and sharp, ---- glittered with malice. "Hello, Farah," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "Or should | say, Aurora?" My blood ran cold. "You... you can see?" She laughed, a high, piercing sound. "Of course, | can see. The amnesia, the blindness... it was all an act. A necessary one to get Brandon to finally marry me. He's always had a weakness for me when I'm fragile." She stood up and sauntered over to me, her hips swaying. "He married me a year ago, right after my 'accident'. And you know who has been keeping you company all this time? His delightful, degenerate twin brother. Brandon couldn't bear to touch you anymore. Not after he became my husband." Every word was a hammer blow, shattering the last fragile remnants of my hope. | had known, but hearing it from her lips, seeing the victory in her eyes, was a different kind of torture. | kept my face a mask of calm. "l don't want him anymore, Caryl. You can have him. Just let me go." Her smirk widened. "Let you go? Oh, no. | can't do that. You see, you've been a very bad girl, Aurora. And now, you have to pay the price." She clapped her hands, and two thuggish-looking men entered the room. They reeked of stale beer and sweat. ---- "What are you doing?" | asked, a knot of dread tightening in my stomach. Caryl didn't answer me. She turned to the men, her expression shifting to one of terror. She ripped the collar of her own dress, her eyes wide with fake panic. "No!" she screamed, her voice suddenly shrill and desperate. "Please, don't touch me! Help! Brandon, help me!" The men looked at her, confused, then back at me. | understood instantly. This was a setup. She was framing me. The door to the room burst open, and Brandon strode in, his face a thundercloud of fury.