By the third day, Sofia was unraveling.
Tristan Jacinto’s team had not replied to her email. The secretary who took her call never called back. Every message she sent into the void stayed there, swallowed whole. It was as if she did not exist.
The internet, however, made sure she did.
Her phone lit up with notifications until she could not bear to look at it anymore. Strangers flooded her i********: with insults, her f*******: inbox with threats. t****k comments branded her names she could not repeat aloud. Women she had never met spat venom at her through the screen, defending a man who had never once acknowledged them.
Slut.
Bitch.
Gold digger.
You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as him.
Her hands shook as she deleted her i********:. Then her f*******:. Then even her blank
