Fated To Three, And I Broke Them All

Verity:

Flashback:

"Look at her. She still has the nerve to show up here."

The same neighbor I used to work with grunted when she spotted me at the bakery.

I had a fever and had finally gone out to buy myself a loaf of bread.

I had locked myself inside for a week, terrified of going out and having people recognize me, only to mock me.

But my body was growing weaker, and I needed food so I could take some medicine.

I kept my head down as I approached the counter, my hands trembling as I prepared to spend the last of my savings.

"What are you doing here? Hmm?"

When I didn’t answer, the woman finally decided to confront me.

"I don’t want any trouble," I whispered, keeping my gaze lowered. "I just want to get some food."

I was speaking to Mrs. Smith, the same woman I used to work with and serve at the balls.

"Oh, look at this shameless slut. Her brother raped and harassed an innocent woman, and she’s worried about filling her fat belly."

As Mrs. Smith said this to the woman behind the counter, she slapped my stomach, making it jiggle.

Humiliation burned through me when the two other customers started laughing.

I glanced at them before turning back to the woman behind the counter.

"Can I please get a loaf of bread?" I asked, pointing toward it.

"Why? Hasn’t your brother done enough?" the woman behind the counter hissed.

"And she’s so shameless. She doesn’t care about anything. Not once has she knocked on our doors to apologize for her brother’s actions, but she comes out now just to buy herself a fancy meal, go home, and enjoy it while the rest of the female population suffers because of men like her brother."

Mrs. Smith kept ranting as she snatched the bag from my hand.

Then she grabbed my ponytail and yanked me toward her.

"Please, let me go," I begged the moment I realized the crowd was becoming more aggressive.

"I say we strip her naked, just like we did to her brother."

The creepy old man who always sat at the corner down the road, harassing and catcalling women, shouted the suggestion.

Of course, it was his own sick desire.

"I think he’s right. Her brother’s soul will writhe in the grave when he finds out his own sister has suffered the same humiliation."

Mrs. Smith agreed and immediately reached for my neckline.

She yanked at it so hard that my dress tore, exposing my bra.

I quickly covered my chest with one hand while scratching at hers with the other, trying to free my hair.

The moment I broke free, I ran for the exit.

But the old man stuck out his leg, and I tripped, falling face-first and tumbling down the steps before landing on the road.

Laughter erupted around me as I pushed myself back onto my feet, clutching the torn neckline of my dress closed.

"I say we punish her!" another woman shouted.

It felt as though they had been waiting all week for me to leave my house.

I ran.

The mob chased after me.

At every turn and every corner, I was terrified that someone would be waiting there to catch me and that videos of what happened would end up going viral too.

I couldn’t even let myself cry because the tears would blur my vision, and losing even one second could be enough for them to catch me.

When I finally reached my house, I threw myself against the door and fumbled with the lock using trembling hands.

Once inside, I locked the door and began dragging a closet in front of it while the mob tried to force their way in.

"Hey! You can’t stay hidden in there forever!"

The same old man’s voice came from outside.

The women who hated my brother were now allowing the same kind of man they accused him of being to stand outside my home and hurl slurs at me.

Then I heard them discussing whether they should break the windows.

I was terrified one of them would agree.

Thankfully, before anyone did, voices ordered the crowd to move away.

"Go back to your work!" I heard a man shout.

Only then did I gasp in relief.

Whichever warrior had intervened probably didn’t know who I was.

If he had known about my brother, maybe he wouldn’t have stopped them.

That night, I slept under my bed because that was where I had started sleeping now.

Suddenly, the window shattered.

A huge rock flew inside and landed beside the bed.

With trembling hands, I picked it up and unwrapped the paper tied around it.

Only a few words were written on the note:

"Two days. If you don’t leave this house within two days, we will break in, and whatever we do to you will be your own fault."

I cried through the night and didn’t sleep.

But by morning, I knew this house was no longer a safe home for me.

End Of Flashback.

When I started to wake up, I immediately clutched the blanket when I realized I was no longer under the bed.

I was lying on a soft mattress, and the realization instantly terrified me.

I opened my eyes and, without saying a word, dragged the blanket with me as I tried to crawl under the bed.

This wasn’t good.

I was supposed to stay hidden.

How the fuck had I ended up on top of the bed?

"Hey, hey, what are you doing?"

At the sound of a man’s voice, my first thought was that they had broken into the house.

There shouldn’t have been any man around me otherwise.

"No, don’t fucking touch me. You said you’d give me two days to leave. I’ll go, I promise. I’ll go far away."

I started screaming as I threw myself onto the floor between the bed and the bedside table, then began scooting backward, desperately trying to put distance between myself and whoever had broken in.

"Hey, it’s me. Jaguar. What? What are you talking about?"

The moment I heard his voice and recognized his name, my eyes flew open.

Through my blurred vision, I realized I was no longer in that house.

That was why I had been sleeping on top of the bed.