Flames of Betrayal

A hush fell over the crowd, everyone too shocked to speak.

To them, the woman who had dared to strike at the untouchable Simon was practically signing her own death warrant.

Simon, clutching his bleeding forehead, kept his lips sealed tight.

Ella lost it. She held her belly, her eyes wild, and forgetting all decorum, she flailed her arms and screamed, "How dare you hit Simon?! Get her, now!"

Her bodyguards swarmed me, a flurry of fists and boots coming at me from all sides.

I fought back with all my might, but against those muscular men, I was overwhelmed and forced to the ground. I curled up, doing my best to shield myself.

Nicole let out a piercing scream and threw herself over me, her small body trying to fend off the blows meant for me.

I called out to her weakly, unable to push her away. Desperate, I managed to roll over, pulling Nicole underneath me to protect her.

I barely cracked my eyes open, squinting at Simon a short distance away.

His lips quivered, but no words came out.

I surrendered to the pain, closing my eyes as blows rained down, each one burrowing into my bones.

I could not even muster the energy to feel hatred.

'Simon, we're done for good,' I told myself.

Nicole's wails crescendoed, finally jolting Simon out of his paralysis.

"Stop, just stop! Ella, make them stop!" Simon barked.

Ella reluctantly gestured for the beating to end.

Breathless, I tried and failed to get up several times, my elbows scraping raw against the ground, bleeding slightly.

The scrapes looked far worse than the minor cut on Simon's head.

Finally, Nicole reached down to help me.

She was alright since I managed to shield her.

Ella, surrounded by her entourage, still looked unsatisfied, as if she had been wronged.

My body felt like it was rusted solid, but I clenched Nicole's hand tighter.

From then on, we only had each other.

I locked eyes with Simon one last time, finding nothing but emptiness.

"I'm sorry for the trouble," I said to the onlookers.

I nodded politely, straightened up, and walked out with slow, measured steps.

Nicole did not fight me then. Instead, she whispered, "Mom, what about our stuff?"

I shook my head and said, "Let's pretend it all went up in flames."

Options were slim in the middle of the night, so I booked us into a motel.

The room was surprisingly tidy, a small comfort.

Talk about serendipity—Nicole's birthday and mine were a day apart.

Tomorrow was my day.

It was time to head home.

My phone lit up twice. Unlocking it, I found a message from Simon.

[Don't come back for the next couple of days. Ella's got a prenatal appointment tomorrow, and I've got to be there.]

[I'll fill you in later.]

I stared at my phone, backspacing and rewriting, until I sent just one line.