Chapter 32

Grace had not been expecting to come across Lily again so quickly.

Lily looked the same as when Grace had met her for the first time all those years ago.

She was tall and thin in the way only actresses could be. Her skin had a perfect glow. Meticulously applied makeup, haute couture clothes, expensive designer handbag…

She looked every bit the actress and fiancee to one of the richest men in the city.

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If not for either of those things, she was still the only daughter of the Atkinson family and a socialite in her own right.

Even then, when Lily permitted others to rip out her nails, she was still dressed exquisitely. Her expensive and branded clothes stood out in the dark prison.

She looked so radiant and glamorous, then. And now.

It was also this city socialite, highly esteemed by everyone else, who’d made it her goal to see Grace tortured and abused. There was a moment when Grace understood Lily’s plight. Jennifer, Lily’s sister, had died. But it was an accident!

hadn’t even been close to Jennifer. They were related, but

hating Grace

unrepentant. But that wasn’t

was wondering who this is. Isn’t she the perpetrator

head and continued to sweep up the rubbish that had

sister, I’m afraid I would cry bitterly as I knelt down and begged for forgiveness. I can’t believe that some people would see it as not a

deep breath and slowly raised her head. She looked at the two of them and said, “I’ve already paid the price.” She held the broom in front of

all around the building— it was a government building-bul government officials could be bought, as she’d learned in

an unwarranted accusation and my lawyer

and could only be a

you,” Annabelle mocked. “You have a shit job. Big deal. You’re alive, aren’t you? While

think you’ve paid the price? It was only three years in prison and you think that’s the

worst life possible. I have no family. No friendships. Everything I’ve worked for was taken from me. Did you come here to gloat? I can now say that I have nothing to my

top of Grace’s messy head to the bottom cuffs of her neon

three years’ time, the woman’s originally dark and

could still recall the first time she had met Grace and had been surprised by her hands. They were smooth and fair, and the nails were meticulously manicured. They had seemed even prettier when holding a

not holding a high-quality fountain pen but

have not been

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