LOGINPOV: LilySunday morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of our bedroom, painting everything in shades of gold. I sat in the rocking chair by the window, baby Anna Grace nursing contentedly at my breast, her tiny fist curled against my skin.Eight years. It had been eight years since I woke from that coma with no memory, no identity, and no idea of the nightmare waiting for me. Eight years since Alex Morrison had smiled at me with those cold eyes and called me his wife. Eight years since the poisoning began.Now I was thirty-eight years old, nursing my third child, watching through the window as Emma and Matthew played tag in the garden below. Emma's dark curls bounced as she ran, her laughter floating up like music. Matthew chased after her, his Tony's arc reactor t-shirt flapping in the breeze.Anna yawned against me, milk-drunk and perfect. Three weeks old. Named after Tony's sister who'd died too young, and after Grace, the daughter Sarah Chen had lost. It felt right som
POV: TonyI watched Lily stare at herself in the full-length mirror, her hands trembling as she smoothed down the emerald green gown that matched her eyes. Six months pregnant with our second son, she was radiant. But I could see the fear beneath the beauty."I can't do this," she whispered.I crossed our bedroom and wrapped my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder so we were both looking at her reflection. "Yes, you can.""Tony, there are going to be hundreds of people watching the worst moments of my life played out on a giant screen. Reporters asking me to relive my trauma. Cameras everywhere. I feel like I'm going to throw up.""Then we don't go." I turned her to face me. "We stay home, order takeout, watch Emma play with her toys, and forget the whole thing."Lily's eyes filled with tears, but she shook her head. "I have to go. All those survivors we flew in, they're counting on me. Rachel worked so hard on this performance. Maria poured her heart into
POV: LilyThe visiting room smelled of industrial cleaner and desperation. Metal tables bolted to the floor. Plastic chairs that had seen thousands of tears. Fluorescent lights that made everything look sickly and pale.I sat with my hands folded on the table, Tony beside me, waiting. My heart hammered against my ribs. Part of me wanted to run. The other part needed to see this through.The door opened with a metallic clang.What walked through barely resembled the woman from my nightmares. Sarah Chen had always been petite, but now she was skeletal. The orange jumpsuit hung off her frame like she was a child playing dress-up. Her skin had a grayish pallor, stretched tight over sharp bones. Her hair, once glossy black, was thin and streaked with white.But her eyes. Her eyes were the same. Dark and haunted and filled with something that looked almost like relief when she saw me."You came," Sarah whispered as a guard helped her into the chair across from us. She moved carefully,
POV: LilyThe package arrived on a Tuesday morning, forwarded from the California Department of Corrections. I stared at it on the kitchen counter like it might explode. Brown paper wrapping, my name written in careful block letters, a prison stamp in the corner. Inside, I could feel the weight of something substantial."What is it?" Tony asked, pouring coffee into his travel mug. He had a meeting at Stark Industries in an hour."From the prison." My voice came out flat. "I think it's from Sarah."Tony's hand stilled on the coffee pot. "You don't have to open it.""I know."But my fingers were already reaching for it, driven by a morbid curiosity I couldn't explain. I tore open the paper. Inside was a shoebox, and inside that, dozens of letters. All addressed to me. All stamped but never mailed.A single note sat on top in different handwriting.Ms. Stark,I'm Warden Patricia Gomez at Central California Women's Facility. Sarah Chen passed away three days ago from pancreatic ca
POV: LilyThe email sat in my inbox for three days before I could bring myself to open it.Subject: Film Adaptation Inquiry - Poisoned MemoirMy finger hovered over the mouse, trembling slightly. Emma tugged at my sleeve, her five-year-old curiosity pulling me back to the present moment."Mommy, why do you look scared at the computer?"I smiled down at her, smoothing her dark curls. "I'm not scared, sweetie. Just thinking.""About what?""About whether some things should stay in books, or if they should become movies too."Emma's eyes lit up. "Like Frozen? That was a movie AND a book!"If only it were that simple.I finally clicked the email open. The message was from Maria Chen, a director whose work I'd admired for years. She'd made powerful films about women overcoming impossible odds, stories that didn't shy away from darkness but always found the light. Her last film had won three Oscars.Dear Ms. Stark,I finished your memoir in one sitting, tears streaming down my fa
Lily's POVThree years later.I stand in front of the full-length mirror in our bedroom, studying my reflection with a sense of wonder that still catches me off guard sometimes. The woman looking back at me is almost unrecognizable from the broken, poisoned version of myself who once thought death was the only escape.This woman has clear eyes, bright and alert, no longer clouded by drugs or fear. Her skin glows with health, not the sickly pallor of mercury poisoning. Her hair is long and shiny, falling in waves past her shoulders. She stands tall, shoulders back, radiating a quiet confidence that comes from surviving hell and choosing to thrive anyway.This woman is me.Lily Stark."Mama! Mama, look!" Emma bursts into the room, now a bright, energetic five-year-old with Tony's intelligence and my stubbornness. She's holding a drawing she made at school, our family as stick figures holding hands under a rainbow."That's beautiful, baby girl," I say, kneeling down to her level. "Is tha







