Jennifer's POV
The silence in my small Austin apartment was a living thing. It wasn’t peaceful; it was heavy, a thick blanket smothering the past.
This was my self-imposed exile one year now. The whispers had become a roar. My name had become a whispered curse in the state I’d once called home.
And the title was “Jennifer Morgan. The woman who put her billionaire husband in prison. Wicked. Unforgiving.”
I saw it in the grocery store, at the gas station, in the pitying, judgmental eyes of former "friends." My own mother, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and disapproval, had asked, "Jennifer, was there no other way? The scandal... what will people think?" That was the day I disconnected, even from my best friend Lucy, who resides in the same state as my family. Sleep was my on
