Page 102 of Heartless Sinner

"We're all so excited for you," Clarissa joins in, her smile genuine and warm.

"You gave the performance of your life in that audition, Scarlett," Lucy says, squeezing my hand.

"Thank you. It was so much fun."

"We wish we could have been there." Genevieve stares back at me, wistfully.

"I'll see if I can get some passes when the filming starts. It'd be nice to have you guys there." The words come easily, naturally, as if I've always belonged in this world of privilege and possibility.

"That would be great."

They all look at each other with excitement, a silent conversation passing between them in glances and subtle smiles.

The speaker approaches the stage at the top of the room, and the chatter ceases.

Her name is Heather Fairchild. She’s an elegant woman like Genevieve, who speaks eloquently. Her voice carries easily through the perfect acoustics. She begins her speech by talking about all the support the charity has given women in third world countries. Then she talks heartily about all the work yet to be done for the rest of the year. It sounds great. Like something I'd like to get involved in. The thought of helping others warms my heart with purpose, pushing aside the earlier anxiety.

I always thought that whenever I reached a stage in my life where I had the chance to help others, I would. Maybe Ihavereached that stage.

Some of the tasks involve just going down to the centers and helping put care packages together. I could definitely do that and expand as I learn more, or more time frees itself up.

I am, however, mindful that I've just come out of a crazy situation and my mind needs some downtime before I can help anyone else. I just won't wait too long.

When Heather finishes her speech, everyone claps. Then I'm surprised when Eloise takes the stage, her heels clicking against the floor with predatory confidence.

I never thought she'd be a part of anything like this. But then again, many of the women here look like they're present for the social scene.

Eloise opens with a talk about her new jewelry brand which will provide a hundred women who live in the city with jobs. Then she says ten percent of her earnings for the rest of the year will be donated to the charity.

She almost has me believing she's a decent human being and that she was just bitter about her breakup with Micah.

I can't say much about the other stuff, like her cheating and the scandal, which I did read about, but maybe she does have aheart. She goes on to play a video that showcases some of the hands-on work her team has done with the charity in Rwanda.

And again, I'm impressed. I'm intrigued that she went out there herself for a week and I’m transfixed with all she and her team have done. I watch them plant trees, help take care of the kids, and cook for the people in the village. The images flow across the screen like a dream, until suddenly?—

I see myself on the screen and shock lances through me like an electric current.

I straighten as if a steel rod has been shoved up my back and experience a moment of temporary displacement where I'm not sure where I am. The room spins slightly, the chandeliers above becoming kaleidoscopes of light and shadow.

Then I realize I'm still here in this seat and what I'm actually seeing is footage of me.

Me in a hospital gown looking like I've had the life drained out of me and then some. The fabric hangs loose on my frame, paper-thin and institutional green against my pale skin.

Rehab.

That was rehab.

My heart pounds so hard I can feel it in my throat.

Why am I watching this?

My eyes glue to the screen with a realization that what I andeveryonein the room are seeing is one of my consultation sessions.

Aprivateconsultation session at the hospital with one of my psychiatrists. The air feels too thick to breathe, my lungs struggling against the weight of exposure.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Scarlett

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