The envelope trembled in my hands, sealed with his initials—the same handwriting that signed our wedding license. Inside, a single sheet. Write the apology. Attend the press conference. Then you may leave with dignity.\n\nDignity. Such a clean word for such a filthy request. I stared at the words, feeling the weight of three years collapse inside my chest. I had cooked his favorite meals when he worked late. I held his hand at his father’s funeral. I smiled through every dinner where guests praised Elise’s artistry, her grace, her soul—as if I were just furniture.\n\nAnd now he wanted me to kneel. To thank her for exposing me. To lie and say I regretted things I didn’t do.\n\nMy phone buzzed. Unknown number. A photo flashed on screen—me leaving Daniel’s apartment last night. They were watching.\n\nI walked to the balcony, the city stretching below like a promise I’d almost forgotten. One call to Mira. One email to the journalists Daniel trusted. Or I could sit down, pick up the pen, and write the lie that would set me free.