And before I could even react, a sharp voice rose from behind the onlookers.

“Who the hell are you calling dead?”

Everyone turned.

My grandmother and sister stepped out from the crowd, alive, furious, their eyes burning straight through Victor.

And for the first time, I saw fear flicker in his eyes.

Everyone went silent for a second, like the whole city had paused to watch a bad movie. Then Victor looked over and saw my grandma standing there, alive and furious. His face drained white so fast I thought he might pass out.

“Grandma?” he stammered, like someone had punched the air out of him. “You… you’re here? I—I thought… I thought you were gone.”

My grandma blinked at him, confused, then shook her head. “What are you talking about, child? I’m standing right here. I’m fine. Who told you I was dead?”

For weeks she’d only known I was in court, that I’d been filing appeal after appeal, that I was exhausted from fighting. She didn’t know the rest... what Ivy had done, how bodies had gone missing, what kind of mess my husband had made of everything. All she knew was that I’d been chasing a case, and she assumed Victor had been grieving like any decent son would.

Before he could even answer, Anna, my sister pushed through the crowd. She grabbed me in a fierce hug, like she was anchoring me so I wouldn’t fall apart in public. “Marielle, what is happening? Why are they screaming at you? Why are they saying those horrible things? I came as fast as I could.”

I could feel the warmth of Anna’s arms and it kept me from collapsing. She looked at me with clear, fierce confusion. “Who would do this to you? Why are they calling you a scammer?”

“This has been rough,” Victor said thickly, then his voice snapped hard. “Marielle, are you insane? If it wasn’t your family who died, why have you been dragging this to court and harassing Ivy? You keep suing, you keep making a scene. What, are you jealous she’s prettier or younger? Is that it? Are you trying to ruin her life because you can’t stand her?”

He spit the words out like they hurt him. I watched him and felt something inside me crack into a hundred quiet pieces.

Ivy clung to him at the edge of the crowd, all trembling chin and watery eyes, playing the wounded angel she was born to be. “Marielle has always hated me,” she sniffed, voice shaking exactly where it needed to. “She’s been trying to destroy me ever since I came into Victor’s life. I can’t sleep, I’m always scared. Maybe I should just quit. I don’t want this to get worse.”

Victor looked at her and softened like putty. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he told her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear in front of everyone. “Why would you quit? I’ll fix it. I’ll clear your name.”

Then he turned to the cameras with that practiced courtroom cadence, watching the phones like they were jurors. He paced his words for effect.

“Look,” he said, slow and loud for the livestream, “we live in a time when people are afraid to help one another. Someone gets hurt and we look away. Someone needs a hand and we do nothing because we’re afraid of being scammed. That’s why I stand for justice, even if it means standing against family.”

He paced a little, eyes fixed on the lenses. “There are people who fake accidents to get money. They prey on kindness and ruin decent people’s lives. I will not let that happen. I, Victor Ramirez, will make sure those who trick others, those who stage accidents and then lie in court, pay for what they did. No mercy for scammers. No mercy for people who turn tragedy into profit.”

The crowd roared. Phones waved like flags. The live chat exploded into cheering and hate. He was a hero again. I felt like someone had poured salt into my mouth.

Anna squeezed me tighter, whispering fiercely, “This is wrong. They’re lying. Marielle, tell them. Tell them what really happened.”

I wanted to. I wanted to shout the truth at the top of my lungs. I wanted to tell them that the people who died in that car were his grandmother and his sister. I wanted to tell him his own blood had been taken by the woman he was protecting. But the words stuck in my throat like a stone.

Victor pointed at me, voice full of righteous heat. “She’s part of those scams. She kept filing appeals, dragging this out to extract more money, to ruin people. We won’t let con artists get away with it. Not in my town. Not on my watch.”

Ivy sniffed theatrically, then leaned forward, eyes huge. “I just want the truth to come out... I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of lies. I’m scared. Please don’t make this worse.”

Someone in the crowd started chanting, “Scammer! Scammer!” and the noise swallowed everything. I tasted metal in my mouth. People I’d never met shouted accusations like they knew me. The live streamers stacked lies into headlines and the headlines turned into judgments.

“Exactly! These kinds of people ruin lives for money!” someone yelled.

“Even if that scammer’s already dead, her family’s still here! They should pay for what she did!” another one shouted.

“They all deserve to rot in jail!”

The air was hot and ugly, filled with the smell of sweat, phones raised high to catch every second of my humiliation.

And right in the middle of it? Victor.

He stood there, calm and proud, soaking in every camera flash like it was applause. That twisted little smile on his face said everything. This wasn’t justice for him. It was a show. His show.

I’d seen him win cases before, but never like this. Never with this much hunger in his eyes. It wasn’t about the truth anymore.... it was about Ivy, about proving he was her hero. He’d forgotten why he became a lawyer. Forgotten what it meant to fight for what’s right.

He just wanted me gone. And he wanted the woman he loved to look innocent.

Beside me, my grandma’s face turned pale. Her hands trembled as she grabbed his sleeve. “Victor,” she said, voice shaking, “how can you talk like that? You’re lying. You know what really happened. You think your grandmother would be proud if she saw this?”

He yanked his arm away. “Don’t you dare use my mother to guilt-trip me!” he snapped. “She’s not here, and even if she was, she’d understand the truth. So stop defending Marielle. You’re only embarrassing yourself.”

My grandma flinched, her hand falling back to her side.

He looked at me then, chin high, voice booming for the crowd. “I’m divorcing Marielle. I’m done with her lies, her drama, her obsession with dragging innocent people down. I’m a lawyer and I stand for fairness and truth. The truth is, she refuses to move on because she wants money and attention. She’s been milking someone's death for sympathy long enough.”

He looked so sure, so self-righteous, that the crowd began clapping.

I stared at him for a long moment, my heart slowly breaking apart.

“Victor,” I said softly, “are you really okay with destroying a dead woman’s name just to protect the one who killed her?”

His eyes flashed cold. “I’m not destroying anyone,” he said. “I’m telling the truth. Something you clearly have no concept of.”

I nodded slowly. “Then keep telling your version of it,” I whispered. “I just hope one day you won’t regret what you said today.”

He gave a short, bitter laugh. “Regret? You think I’ll regret standing up for justice? You’re delusional, Marielle. The only ones who’ll regret anything are people like you... people who lie, who cheat, who manipulate sympathy to get money.”

He turned back to the cameras and jabbed a finger at me. “You all see her? She’s still trying to twist the story, make herself look like the victim. This—” he pointed to me like I was dirt “—is exactly what’s wrong with this world. No guilt. No shame. Just crocodile tears.”

The crowd murmured, agreeing, some even shouting things like, “You tell her, attorney!” and “Expose her!”

And then, right on cue, Ivy stepped forward with perfect timing, eyes red and watery. Her voice cracked just enough to sound real.

“Marielle,” she said softly, “you’ve always hated me. But I never imagined you’d go this far. You act like I killed someone on purpose.” She sniffled, letting her lips tremble. “But maybe… maybe you planned this all along, didn’t you? You and that two woman? You two set it up, but something went wrong, and they ended up dead. Is that it?”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even the livestreamers stopped talking for a beat.

Then she turned toward the cameras and said, “That must be why she’s been obsessed with me—why she won’t stop harassing me. Because she’s afraid the truth will come out.”

It was like she’d dropped a bomb.

Someone in the back shouted, “Yeah, that makes sense!”

Another one added, “She must’ve been part of it! Why else defend them?”

And just like that, the rumor became truth. The crowd’s anger reignited, louder than before, spinning faster, crueler.

Anna grabbed my arm and yelled over the noise, “Marielle! Don’t listen to them! You didn’t do anything wrong!” Her eyes were filled with tears and rage. “Victor, how can you let her say that? How can you just stand there while they tear your wife apart?!”

Victor didn’t even look at her.

Ivy pressed herself closer to him, whispering something I couldn’t hear. He nodded like she was the only voice that mattered.

I looked at the man I once trusted with everything: the man who’d sworn he’d protect me no matter what and realized he’d already buried me alive with his lies.

And this time, no one was coming to save me.

The next few minutes felt like hell.

The crowd kept chanting, throwing things. Rotten vegetables, eggs, even empty bottles. Some of them laughed when one hit my shoulder. My ears were ringing, and for a second, I couldn’t even tell if it was from fear or from the noise.

Then Anna screamed.

“Grandma!”

I turned just in time to see her stumble. Grandma’s hand went to her chest, her face turning white. Her knees buckled, and she fell hard onto the sidewalk.

Everything around me stopped moving for one terrible second.

“Grandma!” Anna shouted again, running to her. I dropped to my knees beside them, my heart pounding so loud it drowned out the crowd.

“Grandma, can you hear me?” I said, shaking her arm. She didn’t answer. Her lips were turning blue.

No one came to help. They just kept recording, their phones pointed at us like we were entertainment.

My hands were shaking so bad I could barely pull out my phone.

“Please, please,” I cried into the receiver. “She’s not breathing. Please send an ambulance, please! She’s not breathing!”

Anna was sobbing beside me, covering Grandma with her jacket, whispering through tears, “Please wake up, please wake up…”

Someone from the crowd laughed.

“Look at her acting again!” a man yelled. “Her whole family’s full of scammers!”

“Yeah, cry for the camera, lady!” another shouted.

I ignored them and pressed down on Grandma’s chest, counting under my breath, praying she’d gasp, move, anything.

“Come on, Grandma, stay with me,” I whispered, my tears falling on her shirt. “Please… please don’t leave me too.”

Behind us, I heard Victor’s voice. Calm. Cold. Almost bored.

“That’s enough for today,” he said. “She has no face left anyway. Let her save her pathetic grandma.”

Ivy tugged on his sleeve like she always did, her fake voice soft and innocent. “Victor, are you sure you should just let her go like that? After all the trouble she caused?”

He didn’t even blink. “We’re done here,” he said, wrapping his arm around her. Then they walked away like royalty, the crowd parting for them, cameras following like they were the heroes walking off the stage.

When the ambulance finally arrived, the sirens were the only sound that didn’t feel cruel. Paramedics pushed through the people shouting for space. I helped lift Grandma onto the stretcher, my clothes sticky with eggs and dirt.

Anna clung to my arm, crying so hard she could barely breathe. “Marielle, she’s gonna be okay, right? Tell me she’ll be okay.”

I couldn’t answer. I just nodded even though I didn’t believe it.

Behind us, the crowd was still talking, still streaming. “Serves her right,” one woman said. “Karma’s fast.”

We climbed into the ambulance, the doors slamming shut, cutting off the noise but not the ache.

In the hospital hallway, I sat there. My hair stuck to my face. My body felt cold, but my mind was still burning. Every insult from that crowd replayed in my head like a loop I couldn’t stop.

A nurse came out after what felt like forever. “She’s stable for now,” she said softly. “But she had a major heart attack. We’ll need to monitor her closely.”

I nodded and whispered, “Thank you,” but my voice barely came out.

....

That night, I sat beside Grandma’s bed. Her face was pale, her breathing shallow, the heart monitor beeping slow and steady.

I took her hand and whispered, “I’ll fix this, Grandma. I’ll make them pay. I’ll prove it was them.”

My phone buzzed on the table. My name was still trending. Still being cursed.

I opened the screen. Hateful comments. Fake stories. Videos of me crying edited with dramatic music and lies.

[Scammer wife caught pretending again!]

[She even used her grandma now!]

[What kind of monster is she?]

My throat burned. I wanted to throw the phone, but I didn’t. I just stared at it until the tears blurred the words.

Then I whispered, voice trembling but sharp, “They wanted to bury me alive. Fine. Let’s see who ends up buried first.”

Right then, my phone rang.

I looked at the name.

Gideon.

My ex. The man I once loved for four years before I married Victor.

I stared at the screen for a long time before answering.

“Marielle,” his voice came through, calm but serious. “I saw everything.”

I swallowed hard. “Then you know,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said quietly. “And I’m coming.”