THEY BETRAYED HER

CHAPTER 16 — A DECISION THAT SHIFTS EVERYTHING

CHAPTER 16 — A DECISION THAT SHIFTS EVERYTHING

For the first time in days, Amani slept.

Not deeply, not peacefully—her dreams were still heavy and tangled—but she slept without waking up gasping or needing to replay the video that had been haunting her. And when she woke up, wrapped in a warm blanket on Elias’s couch, she wasn’t alone.

Zariah was curled on the opposite sofa, hugging a pillow like it was a life raft. Mila was sleeping in an armchair, her head tilted back, mouth slightly open, snoring softly. Elias had taken the floor, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other resting across his chest.

Amani blinked at the sight of them.

It was strange—comforting, bittersweet, overwhelming all at once.

She lifted her head slightly. Elias stirred first. His eyes opened, still heavy with exhaustion. When he saw her awake, he sat up slowly.

“Morning,” he said quietly.

“Morning,” she whispered back.

Zariah mumbled something in her sleep, rolled over, and nearly fell off the couch before catching herself. Mila snorted awake like someone had slapped her, blinking wildly.

“What—where—coffee?” she mumbled.

Elias chuckled under his breath. Zariah finally sat up too, rubbing her eyes dramatically.

“Are we in Elias’s house or the afterlife?” she groaned.

Amani smiled—a small but real smile.

“We stayed because we didn’t want you waking up alone,” Mila said, stretching her arms above her head.

Amani felt warmth spread through her chest. She sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around her shoulders.

“I… appreciate it,” she said softly.

Zariah scooted closer and leaned her head lightly against Amani’s. “We love you, dummy. Obviously.”

Amani snorted a tiny laugh.

Then silence filled the room—gentle, calm, but full of unspoken questions.

It was Mila who eventually broke it.

“So,” she said carefully. “We need to talk about what happens next.”

Amani froze.

Zariah tensed.

Elias’s jaw tightened.

None of them wanted to rush her. But they also couldn’t pretend nothing needed to be done.

Amani swallowed hard. “I… don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Mila said gently. “You don’t have to know everything today. But you don’t have to handle everything alone anymore either.”

Amani looked down. “I don’t want anyone else involved.”

Elias leaned forward. “Amani—”

“No.” Her voice shook but she forced herself to continue. “If people know… it’ll just turn into rumors. Or pity. Or—worse—blame.”

Zariah placed a steady hand on her knee. “We’ll never let that happen.”

“It already happened once,” Amani whispered. “And it ruined everything.”

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Elias clenched his fists. “But this time, you have people who actually believe you.”

Amani closed her eyes.

That word—believe—hit her like a gentle blow.

Mila suddenly stood up. “Actually… I think there’s something Amani should know. Something I never got to tell you all before I left school.”

The room shifted.

Elias straightened. Zariah looked up. Amani frowned slightly.

Mila took a deep breath.

“When I left school… it wasn’t just because of my dad,” she began slowly. “Yes, he was sick and I needed to help. But that wasn’t the only reason.”

Amani blinked. “What do you mean?”

Mila hesitated—then said it:

“I transferred to an online-based trauma support program for teens.”

Zariah’s mouth dropped open. “Wait—like therapy?”

Mila nodded. “Not just therapy. A specialized group. For students who experienced… things like you, Amani.”

Amani’s heart stopped.

Her hands shook slightly.

Mila continued, her voice gentle and steady:

“It was a safe place. With real counselors. And other girls who had been through things like this. They taught us how to breathe through panic. How to face memories without letting them eat us alive. How to talk without feeling guilty for existing.”

Amani stared at her, unable to speak.

Mila sat down in front of her again, taking both of Amani’s hands.

“And I want you to know,” she whispered, “that what you’re feeling? The nightmares, the guilt, the fear, the numbness… it’s normal. You’re not broken. You’re not weird. You’re not overreacting. You’re traumatized. And trauma can be healed—but not alone.”

Amani’s eyes filled with tears.

Zariah covered her mouth, tearing up too. “Mila… why didn’t you tell us?”

Mila smiled sadly. “I wasn’t ready back then. I was scared you’d look at me differently.”

Amani’s voice broke. “I… I had no idea.”

“You weren’t supposed to,” Mila said. “But now that you’re going through this… I think I was meant to come back now. To help you.”

Something inside Amani cracked—not painfully, but softly, like a door opening.

“Mila,” she whispered, “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

“You don’t have to be strong,” Mila said firmly. “You just have to try.”

Amani’s breath trembled. “But what if it makes things worse? What if talking makes it hurt all over again?”

Zariah took Amani’s left hand. Elias took her right.

And Mila squeezed both.

Zariah spoke first. “Then we’ll sit with you while it hurts.”

Elias added softly, “And we’ll stay until it stops.”

Mila finished, “And I’ll help you through every step because I actually understand what this feels like.”

Amani broke.

Not into panic.

Not into fear.

Into relief.

Silent tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping onto her blanket. Zariah pulled her into her arms again, and this time Amani didn’t hold back. She buried her face into Zariah’s shoulder, sobbing quietly.

Mila rubbed her back slowly. “You’re not alone anymore. You hear me? You. Are. Not. Alone.”

Elias wiped a tear from Amani’s cheek with the back of his finger. “Whatever path you choose… I will fight for it with you.”

Amani’s sobs softened into shaky breaths.

After a while, she pulled away slightly and wiped her face. She looked at the three people surrounding her—Zariah’s fierce loyalty, Mila’s gentle strength, Elias’s unwavering presence—and she felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hope.

Weak, trembling hope…

but hope nonetheless.

She swallowed, lifting her chin a little.

“I… want help,” she whispered.

Zariah smiled through tears. “We’ll help you get it.”

“I want to try,” Amani continued. “I don’t want this to control me anymore.”

Mila’s eyes softened proudly. “That’s brave, Amani.”

“And,” Amani added, voice barely a whisper, “I want to talk about it. Properly. Not just the video. I want to tell someone everything.”

Elias inhaled sharply—relief flooding him.

Zariah squeezed Amani’s hand. “We’re here for that.”

Amani nodded. “But… there’s something else I need to do first.”

They all leaned in.

“What?” Mila asked gently.

Amani wiped her face one more time.

Her voice steadied, trembling but determined.

“I want Ethan exposed.”

Silence.

Stunned.

Still.

Heavy with meaning.

Then Elias’s eyes turned dark—cold, sharp, protective.

Zariah sat straighter. “Say the word, and I’ll ruin him socially myself.”

Mila’s expression hardened. “When victims speak up together… they can’t silence you anymore.”

Amani looked at her friends—her support, her family—and exhaled a shaky breath.

“I don’t want revenge,” she said softly. “I want truth. And justice. And freedom.”

Elias nodded, voice full of unwavering certainty.

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll get.”

---

For the first time since everything had resurfaced…

Amani felt the path forward.

She didn’t know how long it would take.

Or how many nights she would cry.

Or how many times she would break and rebuild.

But now she knew one thing for sure:

She wasn’t walking that road alone.

Not anymore.

Not ever again.