A moment later, her phone rang.
There was no caller ID, but she knew the number by heart—she’d had it memorized for over twenty years.
It was her father, Kevin Brown.
She didn't have to answer to know how furious he must be, how he probably wanted to wring her neck.
Jessica Brown decisively declined the call.
He called again.
She blocked his number.
But then, a call came through from Susan Lane.
Standing at the intersection waiting for the bus, Jessica answered. “Grandma.”
Susan’s voice was laced with guilt. “Jessica, could you come to the hospital, please?”
“I can’t today, Grandma,” Jessica said, her voice flat.
She knew perfectly well what had happened. Susan must have been the one who drugged them, willing to stop at nothing to force a reconciliation. But Jessica also knew it was pointless. Even if Susan confessed to Lance right now, he wouldn’t believe her. He would assume Susan was just covering for Jessica, lying to protect her.
In Lance Smith’s eyes, anything bad could be pinned on Jessica, and it would all make perfect sense. It was as if she’d been born to be the villain in her own story.
When the bus arrived, she got on, and as she settled into a seat, she opened her email. A dozen messages had trickled in, all rejections from the companies she’d applied to. Not a single one had even offered an interview.

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