Chapter 3 - Liam’s Defection
By Sunday morning, the hospital had moved me to a private room for safety. My phone was dead—I had deliberately turned it off to block the barrage of hateful voicemails from my mother and Aunt Susan.
There was a soft knock on the door. I expected a nurse, but Liam walked in.
He looked like he hadn’t slept. He was still wearing the trousers from his tuxedo, his shirt untucked and wrinkled. He stood at the foot of my bed, staring at my bruised face and the heavy brace restricting my movement.
"They told me you tripped," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Your mother told me you drank too much, tripped over the hem of your dress, and fell. She said you were fine."
"Do I look fine, Liam?" I asked coldly.
He dropped his head into his hands. "No. God, Clara, I am so sorry. After they arrested her, I went back to the venue. I bribed the security manager to let me see the patio camera footage from the rehearsal dinner. Chloe’s family paid him off to delete it, but he hadn't wiped the backup drive yet."
He pulled a small USB drive from his pocket and set it on my bedside table.
"It's all right there," Liam said, his eyes filled with a sickening realization. "I watched her trap you. I watched her push you. She didn't even hesitate. She shoved you and then she laughed. I almost married a monster."
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"Why are you here, Liam?" I asked, too exhausted to offer him comfort.
"To give you the evidence," he replied firmly. "I called off the wedding permanently. I packed my things and left her house. Clara, your family is sick. They spent the entire night at the police station trying to figure out how to frame you for perjury. You need a lawyer. A ruthless one."
