When I was thrown inside, I saw a group of women in gowns.
Maggie was beautifully dressed, the obvious center of them all, every eye already on her.
The moment she saw me, she recoiled as if something filthy had been dragged in. "Ernest, get this awful woman away from me. I don't want to see her."
But Ernest had me by the hair. "Maggie, I'm right here. Don't be scared."
He stared into my eyes, cold. "Agatha—you went online and called Maggie a mistress. What the hell is wrong with you?"
I shook my head weakly. "I didn't."
Ernest scoffed. "If it wasn't you, then who? You think making up garbage like that is funny?"
He stood up and pulled out a marriage certificate in front of everyone. "Maggie and I are legally married."
"She's my wife. And this one—" he pointed down at me, "—she's not even worth calling a mistress. Don't believe a word she says."
As if to prove how serious he was, Ernest bent down and slapped me hard across the face.
I collapsed onto the floor and didn't move.
That slap—fine. Call it repayment for what he did for me when we were children.
Maggie walked over, tears in her voice. "Agatha, Ernest and I are married. Why would you post those lies?"
I said quietly, "It wasn't me."