You Used Me

The photo wasn’t me. 

But it looked like me. 

Same coat. Same hair. Same slump on the courthouse steps. 

Except my eyes were closed. And there was blood on my shirt. 

“BREAKING: SARAH MILLER COLLAPSES OUTSIDE COURTHOUSE. RUSHED TO HOSPITAL. PREGNANCY COMPLICATIONS SUSPECTED.”

The comments were already there. 

“See? She’s hiding it.”

“Poor babies.” 

“David deserves to know.” 

I was sitting in Ethan’s car. Alive. Breathing. 4 hours from the hearing. And the whole internet thought I was in the ER losing twins. 

“Who took that?” Ethan said. His voice was low and Angered.

“David,” I said. “Has to be. No one else benefits.”

Ethan threw the phone in the backseat. “We’re going in early. We’re going to the judge’s chambers. Now.”

“Will that help?” I asked. 

“It’ll help if we do it before they arrest you for faking a collapse,” Ethan said. 

I laughed like a sob. 

Then we drove. People were looking at their phones and then at me. Whispering. 

When we got to the courthouse, reporters were already there. 

“Ms. Miller! Are you okay?” 

“Is it true about the twins?” 

“Where’s David Blackham?” 

Ethan placed his arm around me and pushed through. 

Inside, Ms. Reyes was waiting. She looked like she hadn’t slept. 

“The judge agreed to see us,” she said. “But David’s lawyers are already here. And Sarah... they filed for a restraining order. Against you.”

“What?” I said. 

“They’re claiming you’re unstable. That you’re a danger to yourself and the unborn children,” Ms. Reyes said. “They want you committed for psychiatric evaluation.”

I stopped walking. 

Ethan stopped too. “No.”

“They’re using the fake collapse,” Ms. Reyes said. “They’re saying you faked it for attention, which proves you’re mentally unfit.”

I looked at Ethan. “You used me.”

Ethan frowned. “What?”

“Not you,” I said. “David. He used me. Again. He used my name, my face, my company. And now he’s using the one thing I can’t prove isn’t real.”

Because how do you prove a negative? 

How do you prove you’re “not” pregnant? 

How do you prove you’re “not” crazy?

Ms. Reyes opened a door. “Judge Okoye will see you now.”

*THE JUDGE’S CHAMBERS*

Judge Okoye was an older woman. Sharp eyes. No smile. 

“Sit,” she said. 

We did. 

David’s lawyers were already there. Three of them in suits that cost more than my apartment. 

And at the head of the table. 

David. 

On a video screen. From prison. In his orange jumpsuit. 

He smiled when he saw me. “Sarah. You look tired.”

I didn’t answer. 

“Your Honor,” David’s lead lawyer said. “We’re here regarding an emergency motion. My client, Mr. Blackham, is the father of Ms. Miller’s unborn twins. He has a right to be present for all medical decisions. He also has a right to protect his children from a mother who is clearly unstable.”

He slid a folder across the table. 

Inside: the fake sonogram. 

The fake hospital records. 

The fake photo of me collapsing. 

And a psychiatric evaluation. Dated yesterday. 

Diagnosis: Delusional disorder. Paranoia. Risk to self and others. 

Signed by Dr. K. Okoro. 

The same doctor from the hospital. 

My hands started shaking. 

“That’s a lie,” I said. 

Judge Okoye held up a hand. “Ms. Miller. You may speak when it’s your turn.”

Ethan leaned forward. “Your Honor, all of that is fabricated. We have proof. We have the real nurse who was bribed. We have—”

“Evidence will be presented at the hearing,” Judge Okoye said. “This is a preliminary motion.”

David leaned into his camera. “Your Honor, I’m just worried about Sarah. She’s been through a lot. The accident. The trauma. She needs help. And she needs me.”

He looked at me. “I love you, Sarah. Let me help you.”

I wanted to throw something at the screen. 

Ms. Reyes stood up. “Your Honor, we have Ms. Amina Bello. She will testify that Mr. Blackham paid her to falsify records. We also have a live ultrasound from yesterday showing Ms. Miller is not pregnant.”

Judge Okoye nodded. “That will be considered. But until then, I am granting a temporary order. Ms. Miller is to undergo a psychiatric evaluation today. And she is to surrender her passport. She is not to leave the state.”

“No,” Ethan said. 

“Mr. Blackwood,” Judge Okoye said. “You are not her counsel.”

“I’m her fiancé,” Ethan said. 

David laughed on the screen. “Fiancé? That’s cute. Sarah, tell him. Tell him you’re mine.”

I looked at David. Really looked at him. 

And something in me broke. 

And then something else clicked into place. 

“Fine,” I said. 

Everyone turned to me. 

“Fine,” I said again. Louder. “I’ll do the evaluation. I’ll surrender my passport. I’ll play your game, David.”

David smiled. “Good girl.”

“But,” I said. “I have one condition.”

Judge Okoye raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“I want the evaluation to be live,” I said. “On camera. With reporters. With the board. With everyone. If I’m crazy, let the world see it. If I’m not... then let the world see that too.”

David’s smile dropped. 

“Your Honor,” his lawyer started. 

“I’ll allow it,” Judge Okoye said. “Transparency is in the best interest of the court. 3 PM today. St. Mercy Hospital. Live.”

She banged her gavel. 

“Court is adjourned.”

*HOUR 1 UNTIL 3 PM*

We didn’t talk on the way to the hospital. 

Ethan was furious. “You shouldn’t have agreed to that. They’ll twist it.”

“Let them,” I said. “I’m tired of hiding.”

When we got to St. Mercy, there were cameras. Dozens. 

Reporters. Live trucks. 

And David’s team. 

Dr. K. Okoro was there. In a white coat. With a clipboard. 

“Sarah,” he said. “Let’s get started.”

They put me in a room. White walls. One chair. One camera. 

Ethan wasn’t allowed in. 

“Ms. Miller,” Dr. Okoro said. “I’m going to ask you some questions.”

“Ask,” I said. 

“Do you believe you are pregnant?”

“No,” I said. 

“Do you believe someone is trying to harm you?”

“Yes,” I said. “David Blackham.”

Dr. Okoro wrote something down. “Do you hear voices?”

“No.”

“Do you see things that aren’t there?”

“No.”

“Do you believe your ex-husband forged medical documents?”

“Yes,” I said. “Because he did.”

Dr. Okoro looked up. “That’s a serious accusation.”

“It’s true,” I said. 

For 45 minutes he asked me questions. About my childhood. About my marriage. About the accident. 

I answered all of them. 

Then he said: “I’m going to show you some images. Tell me what you see.”

He held up a card. It was a blob. 

“What do you see?” he asked.

“A blob,” I said.

He held up another. “And this?”

“A Rorschach test,” I said. “You’re trying to see if I’m delusional.”

Dr. Okoro frowned. “You’re being uncooperative.”

“I’m being honest,” I said. 

He put the cards down. “Ms. Miller, in my professional opinion—”

The door opened. 

Ms. Reyes. 

And behind her. 

Amina. 

In a wheelchair. With an oxygen tank. 

Dr. Okoro stood up. “You can’t be in here.”

“Yes, I can,” Ms. Reyes said. “This is a public evaluation. And Ms. Bello has a statement.”

Amina looked at Dr. Okoro. Then at me. 

“Dr. Okoro paid me $50,000,” she said. Her voice was weak. “To access Sarah Miller’s file. To create fake records. He told me David Blackham would take care of me.”

The room went silent. 

Dr. Okoro’s face went white. “That’s slander.”

“Is it?” Ms. Reyes said. She held up her phone. “Because we have bank transfers. From David Blackham's shell company to your account. $50,000. Three weeks ago.”

Dr. Okoro sat down. 

Amina looked at me. “I’m sorry, Sarah. He told me you were a bad person. He told me you deserved it.”

I nodded. I couldn’t speak. 

Ms. Reyes turned to the camera. “There. That’s the truth.”

*HOUR 0*

The video went viral in 10 minutes. 

#SarahIsNotPregnant was trending. 

#DavidBlackhamIsALiar was trending. 

#FreeSarah was trending. 

The board called an emergency meeting. 

They voted Unanimously. Miller Tech stays with me. 

Ethan picked me up from the hospital. 

“You did it,” he said. 

“I didn’t,” I said. “Amina did.” We drove in silence. 

When we got to Ethan’s penthouse, he gave me Water to drink.

“You okay?” he asked. 

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think so.”

He sat next to me on the couch. “Sarah. Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you ever love him?” 

I thought about it. 

“At the beginning,” I said. “I thought I did. I thought he was saving me. But it wasn’t love. It was fear. And I don’t feel that anymore.”

Ethan nodded. 

“Good,” he said. 

He leaned in and kissed me. Soft.

When we pulled apart, my phone buzzed. 

Unknown number. 

I answered. 

“Sarah,” David said. 

He didn’t sound angry. He sounded tired. 

“You won,” he said. “For now.”

“What do you want?” I said. 

“I want you to know something,” David said. “I never lied about one thing.”

“What?”

“I do love you,” he said. “And I will burn the whole world down before I let you go.”

He hung up. 

Ethan saw my face. “What?”

I showed him the phone. 

There was a new text. From David. 

A photo of Ethan sleeping in his own bed, taken last night. 

And under it: 

“I was in your house, Ethan. While you were with her. And I can get to her anytime I want.” -D

Ethan went pale. 

“Call security,” he said. 

But it was too late. 

Because on the TV, breaking news flashed. 

“DAVID BLACKHAM ESCAPES FROM PRISON. CONSIDERED ARMED AND DANGEROUS”.