Chapter 9 At the Washington D.C. Convention Center, I packed up my simultaneous interpretation equipment and pressed my throbbing temples. The three-day North American Trade Summit was finally over. My first independent interpretation assignment was a success. "You were fucking incredible." Daniel handed me a hot cocoa, eyes blazing with pride. "The organizers are raving about your precision." I smiled slightly, but caught sight of a familiar figure in my peripheral vision. Six months later, Chloe had wasted away to skin and bones, staring at me with pure venom. "Eva Mitchell!" Her shrill voice made passersby turn. Daniel instinctively stepped in front of me. "This is all YOUR FAULT! Lucas only sent me to prison because of you!" She trembled violently, then suddenly burst into maniacal laughter. "But it doesn't matter. As long as I get your forgiveness letter, I can get my sentence reduced." I turned away coldly, but she grabbed my bag strap and collapsed to her knees, sobbing hysterically. "Do you have ANY IDEA how terrifying prison is? They wouldn't even give me water! To survive, I had to drink my own PISS!" I felt absolutely zero sympathy. Her expression twisted into something demonic. She pulled out a stack of photos from her bag and hurled them in my face. "What about THESE? If I send your private photos to your current colleagues, what do you think will happen?" Photos scattered like snow. "Distributing intimate images and threatening others-in severe cases, that's three years minimum in federal prison." Daniel immediately pulled out his phone, fingers flying. "I'm calling the FBI right fucking now." Chloe's face went ghostly white, but she forced a vicious laugh: "Eva, you think Daniel really loves you? He just PITIES you! A used-up whore with a dead baby rotting in her past..." "ENOUGH!" A cold, murderous voice cut through her rant. Lucas appeared out of nowhere and seized Chloe's wrist in a crushing grip. "Give me those photos. NOW." She leaned toward him with tears streaming: "Lucas, I was trying to HELP you..." Lucas shoved her away violently and tore the photos to fucking shreds, his voice dripping ice. "I warned you to NEVER show your face around her again. Did thirty guys gang-raping you and Jake not hurt enough the first time?" Chloe staggered back like she'd been electrocuted. "Jake's a fucking cripple now, has to wear a colostomy bag for life! And I can't have kids anymore... So YOU orchestrated all of it!" Suddenly she burst into hysterical, deranged laughter and pulled out a knife. "Eva Mitchell! DIE, YOU BITCH!" Everything happened in a split second-Lucas threw himself in front of me as the blade buried deep in his chest. Blood gushed between his fingers. He collapsed to his knees but kept his eyes locked on mine. The ambulance screamed to the scene. As they carried him away, his pale lips trembled desperately like he was trying to say omething. turned away and gripped Daniel's sleeve with white knuckles. Don't be scared." His warm hand covered mine, voice fierce with protection. "I'm here. I've got you." Three weeks later, the hospital called. Lucas had caught pneumonia six months ago diving for that ring in the river. Post-surgical complications were catastrophic how-beyond saving. Before he died, he was begging to see me one last time. Absolutely not." My voice was stone cold. After silence, Eleanor's broken voice came on: Eva, sweetheart, I know my son was a complete bastard.