Emerging From the Haze novel Chapter 4

Scarlett tried to log into her social media account to clarify things, but she quickly realized that all her accounts had been blocked from posting.

As she stared at the endless stream of cruel, unfiltered insults filling the screen, it felt as though she'd been thrown back into that dark, suffocating prison.

"Die! You slut! A killer! Trash!"

The words crashed into her mind like a tidal wave, twisting and knotting her nerves. She felt like she was drowning in a vast, bottomless ocean.

The world around her was pitch black, her tears had dried up, her throat raw from crying, yet there was no way out. All she could do was curl up under her blanket, shaking as if trapped in a nightmare.

"Stop yelling at me! I'm not! I swear, I'm not!"

"It hurts! Please stop hitting me! I'm not a killer. I'm begging you, please!"

"Don't touch me! Don't touch me!"

When Calvin and Eugene pulled back the blanket, they were stunned. They had only kept Scarlett locked up for a few days as a lesson. Why had she become so terrified?

Though they didn't understand what was happening, seeing her like this tugged at their hearts.

Eugene asked the housekeeper to make some soup, while Calvin gently pulled Scarlett into his arms. His voice was soft and soothing as he tried to comfort her.

"Scarlett, what's going on? Talk to me."

"We wouldn't have had to do this if you hadn't hurt Sharon. Now that you see where you went wrong, just make sure it doesn't happen again."

Fear overtook Scarlett. She wriggled free from their grip and backed herself into a corner. As she moved, her shirt sleeves and pant legs shifted, revealing a troubling patch of scars that marred her wrists and legs.

When Calvin and Eugene saw the marks, a heavy ache gripped their chests.

"Scarlett, how did you get those scars?" they asked immediately.

Leaning against the wall behind her gave Scarlett a moment of clarity. She pulled the blanket tighter around her, leaving only her distant, empty eyes visible. A bitter laugh escaped her, and tears quietly slid down her cheeks.

"How do you think I got them? Did you think prison was some kind of vacation? That sister of yours—the one you swear is so sweet she wouldn't hurt a fly—sent people after me to make sure I got the full experience—"

Before she could finish speaking, Eugene cut her off, his expression darkening. "Scarlett, are you seriously trying to blame this on Sharon, too? She's just a young woman. How would she even have the resources to come after you? Don't you ever stop and think before you make up these stories?"

"She ran my son over with a car! He might've survived, but she just drove off! She's completely without a conscience!"

Watching the faces contorted with frantic sobs, Scarlett quickly recognized them. They were the family of the person Sharon had accidentally killed all those years ago.

Her gaze immediately shifted to Sharon, who was wearing an unmistakable look of smug satisfaction. Only then did she recall the message Sharon had sent before the concert—the one cautioning her to be careful.

Sharon had taken a life, and now she was using the victim's family to torment her. Didn't she feel any shame, fear, or remorse?

Scarlett stood rooted to the spot as objects continued to hurl toward her. The foul stench of egg yolk clung to her skin, heavy and overwhelming. A rock struck her forehead, splitting the skin and sending blood trickling down.

A flood of curses filled her ears. Her mind went blank as she watched the crowd point at her, hurling accusations.

In her dazed state, she saw Calvin and Eugene rushing toward her, calling, "Scarlett!"

They forced their way through the crowd, clearly coming to her aid. But just a few steps away, they heard someone yell that Sharon had collapsed. Without hesitation, they turned and dashed toward the stage.

They didn't spare a single glance in Scarlett's direction.