LOGINEPILOGUE: Every story that travels through betrayal, love, and redemption deserves a quiet place to rest. This is that place. After the chaos, after the pain, after the long road of choices that could not be undone, Sarah and Mark found themselves standing before prison walls—not as victims, not as warriors, but as people ready to let go. Their first visit was to Andrew. Sarah’s uncle sat across from them, a man once powerful, now humbled by time and consequence. Prison had stripped him of the arrogance that once guided his actions. What remained was regret—raw, unpolished, and unmistakably real. Andrew did not attempt to justify himself. He did not blame circumstances or ambition. Instead, he spoke plainly, his voice carrying the weight of every wrong turn he had taken. He apologized—not only for the schemes and betrayals, but for the trust he had shattered, for the family bond he had sacrificed at the altar of greed. Sarah listened in silence. Forgiveness, for her, did not c
SARAH’S POVOn our reunion day, I woke before the sun. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that makes your thoughts louder. I padded across the room and stopped in front of the wardrobe where my dress hung, neatly pressed, waiting. My fingers trembled as I touched the fabric. In that moment, memories rushed in—Mark’s smile, the arguments, the nights of doubt, and Jennie standing between us like a shadow that refused to move.Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. I pressed a hand to my mouth, breathing slowly, counting each inhale like it might anchor me. My chest felt tight, crowded with memories I hadn’t invited but couldn’t push away.“You’re awake already,” my grandma’s voice said gently.I turned. She stood in the doorway wrapped in her faded shawl, silver hair neatly tucked back, her eyes warm and steady. She had always known when I was breaking, even when I tried to hide it. She walked toward me with slow, careful steps, as if not to scare my thoughts away,
MARK’S POVWhen I saw how broken Sarah looked, something inside me shifted.She wasn’t just crying. She was unraveling.Her shoulders shook as she sat on the cold floor, staring at nothing, her eyes hollow, like she had already left the room even though her body was still there. I walked to her slowly, unsure if she would even notice me. When I knelt beside her, she didn’t look up.I reached for her hand.Sarah flinched at first, instinctive, like someone who had been hurt too many times in one night. But when she realized it was me, her fingers loosened, then curled weakly around mine.“It’s over,” I said softly, more for her than for myself. “You’re safe now.”She didn’t answer. Her grip tightened instead, like she was afraid I might disappear if she let go.I stayed there with her, letting the silence do what words couldn’t. After a while, her breathing slowed. The sobs softened into quiet, exhausted sniffles.“I’ll take you home,” I offered gently. “You shouldn’t be here anymore.”
SARAH’S POVMark’s hand clamped over my mouth just as my gasp tried to escape.His palm was rough, trembling slightly, pressing my lips shut as he pulled me deeper into the shadowed corner. My back hit the cold wall, my breath trapped in my chest. I could feel his other arm around my waist, holding me still—not roughly, but urgently, desperately.“Don’t,” he whispered against my ear. “Don’t make a sound.”CwwI nodded, my heart pounding so loudly I was certain they would hear it. My pulse screamed in my ears as I stared through the narrow gap between stacked crates and the half-open door.That’s when I heard Joe’s voice.Weak. Strained. In pain.Every muscle in my body is locked.“No… no, Joe,” I thought, silently, my nails digging into my palms.I listened.I listened to the slap.I listened to the shouting.I listened to the gunshot that ripped a scream out of him.My knees nearly gave out, but Mark held me upright, his breath shallow, his body rigid. I felt him flinch every time Aus
JOE’S POV:Before I could dodge—before my brain even finished screaming move—the gun fired.The impact wasn’t loud in my body the way it was in the room. It landed on my left leg with a brutal, numbing force that stole the air from my lungs. I gasped, a sharp, broken sound escaping me as I collapsed sideways onto the cold concrete floor. The pain followed a second later, hot and overwhelming, radiating upward like fire crawling through my veins.My vision blurred. My face burned—not from shame, but from shock. I could feel the blood soaking through my trousers, warm and unstoppable, pooling beneath me.Austin didn’t rush. He never rushed.His footsteps echoed as he walked toward me, slow and deliberate, like he wanted me to hear every step. Like he wanted the moment to stretch. Austin stopped right in front of me, looming, his shadow swallowing what little light was left in the room.Before I could say anything, Austin's hand came down hard across my face.The sound cracked through th
MARK'S POVI could feel my pulse pounding in my ears, a low roar of rage building inside me. How could she? After everything, how could she do this now, knowing I still love her? Knowing what she meant to me? My fists clenched at my sides, my mind racing with a thousand questions, a thousand thoughts crashing in.Then I heard it — a low murmur from the crowd, a ripple of excitement spreading like wildfire. And then, as if on cue, voices began to chant, louder and louder, "Marry him! Marry him!"The words hit me like a punch to the gut. The room was closing in, the noise growing deafening, and I could feel the heat rising up my neck, my vision narrowing as the reality of what was happening sank in. Joe was down on one knee, a ring in his hand, and the crowd was cheering them on. “No… no, no, no,” I muttered, shaking my head as if trying to wake from a bad dream. My chest felt tight, and I could barely breathe. Paul reached out, grabbing my arm, trying to pull me back to my seat, but I







