DEAD BEFORE DIVORCE

04

Hate

EVA

"Tom, thank God you're here."

I burst into Tom Bradley's law office like a woman drowning. He looked up from his desk, and for a split second, I saw something I had never seen in his eyes before. Fear.

"Eva." He cleared his throat. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I need help. They killed my dog, Tom. They forged loan documents. They're destroying my life and I don't know what to do."

Tom stood up slowly. He wouldn't look me in the eye. "Eva, maybe you should sit down."

"I don't want to sit down. I want you to tell me how to fight this. You're a lawyer. You've been my friend for ten years. Help me."

"I can't."

The words hit me like ice water. "What do you mean you can't?"

"I mean I can't represent you. I can't help you. I can't even talk to you about this." His hands shook as he shuffled papers on his desk. "You need to leave."

"Tom, what's going on?"

"Nothing's going on. I just think you should find another lawyer. Someone who specializes in... your kind of problems."

"My kind of problems?" I stepped closer to his desk. "What did they offer you?"

"Nobody offered me anything."

"How much, Tom?"

His jaw twitched. "Fifty thousand."

The number hung in the air between us like smoke. Fifty thousand dollars. Our friendship was worth fifty thousand dollars.

"Get out," he said quietly. "Please, Eva. Before this gets worse for both of us."

++++++++

The bank was my last hope. I had three hundred dollars in my checking account. Enough for gas money to drive far away from here.

"I'd like to withdraw all my money," I told the teller. She typed on her computer. Frowned. Typed some more.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. This account shows a zero balance."

"That's impossible. I had three hundred dollars yesterday."

"According to our records, you made several large withdrawals over the past week. The account was closed this morning due to overdraft fees."

"I never made any withdrawals. I want to speak to your manager."

The manager was a thin man with kind eyes that turned cold when he saw me. "Ms. Williams. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do. All the transactions were made with your PIN and identification."

"Someone stole my identity."

"That's a very serious accusation. Do you have proof?"

I had nothing. No proof. No money. No friends. No lawyer.

I walked to the parking lot on shaking legs. The world spun around me like a broken carnival ride. I made it three steps before my knees gave out.

The pavement was warm against my cheek. People gathered around me, their voices mixing together like radio static.

"Someone call an ambulance."

"Is she breathing?"

"Looks like she's on drugs or something."

I tried to tell them I wasn't on drugs. I was just broken. But the words wouldn't come.

++++++++

When I woke up in the hospital, my phone was buzzing nonstop. Hundreds of notifications. Text messages. Social media alerts. Photos.

I opened the first message thread. It looked like texts between me and Jessica, but I'd never sent any of these messages.

Eva: I can't take it anymore. I want to hurt myself.

Jessica: Eva, please don't say things like that.

Eva: You don't understand. I think about killing myself every day.

Jessica: I'm worried about you. Maybe you should get help.

Eva: Maybe I should just end it all. Nobody would miss me anyway.

There were dozens of them. Screenshots posted everywhere online. #PrayForEva was trending. People I'd never met were sharing the fake messages, talking about how sad and disturbed I was.

My phone rang. My boss.

"Mr. Peterson?"

"Eva, I'm sorry, but we're going to have to let you go."

"What? Why?"

"I received some very disturbing emails about you. Claims that you're mentally unstable. That you might be dangerous to other employees."

"Those are lies. Someone's trying to destroy me."

"I'm sure they are, Eva. But I can't take the risk. I've got a business to run."

Another door slammed shut. Another bridge burned.

+++++++

I took a taxi back to the hotel with the twenty dollars I had in my pocket. The driver kept looking at me in the mirror like I might explode.

"You're that girl, aren't you? The crazy one from the internet?"

I didn't answer.

In my room, I opened the closet to pack what little I had left. All my clothes were gone. In their place hung clown costumes. Bright red noses. Rainbow wigs. Oversized shoes.

And lingerie. Cheap, tacky lingerie with tags that read "For The Desperate Whore."

A note was pinned to one of the clown suits:

Since you like being a joke, might as well dress the part. - J

I sank to the floor. This wasn't just revenge. This was torture. Systematic destruction designed to drive me insane. My hands shook as I dialed the police.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Someone is stalking me. They've stolen my identity, killed my pet, destroyed my belongings.."

"Ma'am, is this Eva Williams?"

"Yes, how did you.."

"We've had several calls about you today. People are concerned about your mental state. Are you having thoughts of harming yourself or others?"

They'd gotten to the police too. Painted me as crazy before I could even ask for help.

"Never mind," I whispered, and hung up.

I threw what I could into a garbage bag. Mostly just underwear and a pair of jeans I'd found under the bed. I needed to leave. Go somewhere they couldn't find me.

The elevator took forever. Each floor felt like a lifetime. When the doors opened in the lobby, I ran for the exit.

My car sat in the parking lot where I'd left it. Old and rusty, but it was mine. The one thing they hadn't touched. I was ten feet away when it exploded.

The blast knocked me backward. Heat seared my face. Glass and metal rained down around me like deadly confetti. The car that was supposed to carry me to safety burned like a funeral pyre.

My phone buzzed with a voice message. Jessica's number. I hit play with trembling fingers.

"Try to run, and next time it'll be you inside."

Her voice was casual, almost bored. Like she was ordering coffee instead of threatening my life.

I looked around the parking lot. Other cars. Other people. But no one seemed to notice the explosion. No one was calling the fire department. No one cared.

That's when I realized the truth that had been staring me in the face all along. This wasn't random cruelty. This wasn't just revenge.

This was a game. And I was the toy they planned to break slowly, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of Eva Williams but smoke and ashes..