After the pages and group chats were taken down with the authorities’ help, the harassment calls became much less frequent.
But life didn’t snap back to normal just because those things disappeared.
I still couldn’t ride an elevator alone.
If someone looked at me a second too long, I’d wonder if they recognized me.
If my phone buzzed in the middle of the night, I’d jolt awake, checking to see if something had happened again.
Margaret never told me to “get over it quickly.”
She just set the doorbell at the estate to silent and stayed with me as I slowly learned to use my phone again.
The first time I answered an unknown number alone, my hand shook so badly I could barely hold it.
It was just a delivery driver asking where to leave a package.
After I hung up, I leaned back on the couch, my back soaked in cold sweat.
Margaret came out of the kitchen and handed me a piece of candy.
I blinked. “Are you comforting a child?”
She nodded seriously. “Yes.”
I laughed. My nose stung.
*****
Meanwhile, Colin had someone deliver a letter.
It didn’t ask for forgiveness. It wasn’t filled with late-blooming devotion.
For the first time, he admitted that he’d been indulging himself in the attention of two women and that he’d been a bastard.
He sent more letters after that.
I read them sometimes.
Never replied.
Not to string him along. Not for revenge.
His guilt just wasn’t mine to carry anymore.
*****
After things settled, I had one last meeting with Vivian.
She didn’t cry. Didn’t perform.
Her hair was short. She’d lost a lot of weight.
She looked at me and asked, “Are you ever going to trust anyone again?”
I didn’t answer.
She smirked. “Then at least I destroyed the most important thing you had.”
Margaret, standing beside me, said her usual word.
“Oh.”
Vivian flinched like she’d been stung. Her head snapped up.
“Why are you always like this?”
“Do you even feel pain? Do you care about anyone?”
Margaret looked at her without anger.
“You treat other people’s pain as proof of your talent.”
“That already tells me you have nothing.”
Vivian’s lips moved.
Margaret continued.
“People with real ability fix vulnerabilities. They stop harm. They protect victims.”
“Only people with no sense of boundaries who crave admiration would think that invading someone else’s life and destroying their privacy makes them a genius.”
Her words were calm.
But every one landed exactly where Vivian was most fragile.
She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.
*****
I never went back to the marital house.
I didn’t sell it right away either.
I stayed at Margaret’s estate.
During the day, I slowly returned to work. At night, I helped her sort through old things.
No dramatic speeches. Most of the time, we just sat at the same table, doing our own thing.
I still had nightmares sometimes.
When I woke up, the hallway light was always on.
Margaret never said “don’t be scared.”
She simply made sure I knew the doors were locked, the windows were shut, and I was safe.
*****
Eventually, I went back to my old job.
My coworkers were careful at first.
Some avoided the topic. Others were too careful — lowering their voices just to talk to me.
I didn’t share the details publicly. I just said one thing after a meeting.
“Please don’t discuss my personal life.”
After that, people slowly shifted their attention back to work.
One day, I heard two new hires whispering about what had happened as I passed the break room.
I froze. My hands went cold.
But this time, I didn’t turn and run.
I pushed the door open and looked at them.
“Stop talking about it.”
They froze, then apologized immediately.
I walked out with my cup. My hand was still shaking.
But I didn’t run.
When I got home, I told Margaret.
She listened and gave her usual response.
“Oh.”
But I understood now.
She was saying: I know. You did well.
*****