"She actually tried to trick Mr. Delgado into marrying her. Disgusting! Why are we even interviewing her? Hit her!"

A woman in the crowd seized Clara's ruined arm.

White-hot agony ripped through her entire body. Her back hit the wall, and her legs gave out. She crumpled to the floor.

Fists and feet rained down on her from every direction.

Through the chaos, she saw Ian tighten his arm around Nadia's slender waist, laughing as they walked away.

By that evening, Clara was trending nationwide.

[BREAKING: Delgado family's former fiancée exposed as con artist! Used superstitious rituals to defraud the Delgados of nearly a million dollars over three years! Shameful! Despicable!]

[Delgado family deceived for nearly a century — saved at last by Miss Henson, who debunked the so-called "curse" with real science! A reminder to trust evidence, not folklore!]

Clara stumbled away in the charred remains of her wedding dress. She wanted to buy something to change into—anything—but her bank accounts had been frozen.

The voice on the other end of the line was flat and mechanical.

"Ms. Pruitt, your accounts have been flagged for suspected fraud. We have no choice but to freeze them. We appreciate your understanding..."

I fished out the last crumpled bills from my pocket, hoping to find somewhere to sleep for the night.

But the moment I stepped toward a small motel, the woman behind the counter spat in my face.

"You're that little con artist from the news, aren't you? Get out!"

I hadn't eaten all day.

The wounds on my body had already begun to fester, oozing with infection. I pressed my palm to my forehead. It was burning. My legs refused to carry me another step, and I crumpled beside a dumpster in a narrow alley.

People passed by. The ones who recognized me hurled rotten eggs and slop water, aiming straight for my open wounds without a shred of hesitation.

I missed the quiet of the mountain. I missed my mentor.

But I knew I couldn't leave.

Tomorrow was Ian Delgado's birthday.

When he'd had his hand around my throat earlier, I'd already felt it — his pulse, erratic and fractured beyond repair.

I needed to see that moment.

The thought dragged me to my feet. I braced one hand against the wall, clenched my teeth, and staggered forward.

I made it one step before the world went black.

I woke to the familiar scent of medicinal herbs.