face, a cruel, delighted giggle escaping her lips.
“Say goodbye to high society, you pathetic bitch,” Chloe sneered, adjusting the angle of her phone to capture the ruined clothes in the mud. “I’m posting this on my story. Everyone needs to see how the trash takes itself out. You really thought that ridiculous pre-nup was going to let you walk away with a dime of our money?”
My heart, already shattered into a million pieces by the sudden, massive aneurysm that had stolen my brilliant, kind-hearted husband at the age of thirty-two, felt as if it were being ground into dust under their designer heels.
I didn’t scream at them. I didn’t cry. The tears had run dry somewhere between the hospital waiting room and the graveside.
They threw my memories in the mud, calling me a parasite because they thought they owned the host. They didn’t realize that my
