Rachel gripped her phone so tightly her hand shook. Sarah’s voice came through, sharp and fast. “Come out, Rachel. I’m here.”
The street outside was lit in pale orange from flickering lamps. Rachel’s heart pounded, anger and fear fighting in her chest.
She stepped outside, shoes crunching on the gravel. Sarah stood at the kerb, arms crossed, eyes burning. Rachel’s voice was barely a whisper. “Why do you hate me?” Sarah’s laugh was bitter, breaking in the middle. “Why do you keep calling him? He doesn’t care about you. He never did.”
The words stung. Rachel could feel every day and night spent replaying Joshua’s empty promises, every message he never answered. She took another shaky step closer. “You’re wrong. He lied to us both.”
Sarah’s face twisted, and she charged forward, shoving Rachel back. Hands shook—Rachel’s and Sarah’s, both trembling with confusion and something like heartbreak. The world felt very small, just them, the car, and the burning porch light.
Rachel fumbled, and the shine of cold metal glinted for a moment. Then, a scream tore the quiet. Sarah stumbled and fell, reaching out for something, anything. Rachel froze, the knife slipping from her hand, her voice cracking. “This isn’t what I… I didn’t…”
Blue and red lights painted the world. People shouted, and feet pounded on pavement. Rachel stared at her bloodied hands, mind spinning with all the hateful words spoken, none of them worth their weight. Later, as a judge read out her future, Rachel wept for Sarah, for herself, and for how easy it was to lose everything when love turned to rage.