Chapter 3: The Woman I Blamed

The next morning, I found Natalie in the school parking lot speaking to a police officer, and all the anger I had stored for years finally found a place to land… Continue Reading ⬇️

“Where did your son take my daughter?” I demanded.

Natalie looked exhausted, but calm. “I don’t know where they are.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

She said quietly, “They’re in love, Camila.”

I hated her for saying it. I hated the softness in her voice. I hated the way she looked at Liam with pity, as if she knew something I did not.

“Your family did this,” I told her.

Natalie did not fight back. She only said, “No, Camila. You’re just louder when you’re afraid.”

For eleven months, I lived inside my accusation. Police searched roads, woods, and riverbanks. Weeks later, they told us Livia had contacted authorities. She was safe. She was eighteen. She did not have to reveal her location.

Alive should have comforted me.

But alive and gone felt like a different kind of death. Continue Reading ⬇️