Chapter 2

Sarah’s mind raced, she had to find out who did this, why. She remembered Mark’s laptop, open on his desk sometimes. He wasn't good with passwords. She tried his birthday, then their anniversary. The third try, "GoRedSox1," it opened. She searched the local forums, looking for the first post about the fake report. She found an anonymous account, "TruthTeller88." The account had posted it first, then Mark’s friend, Bill, had shared it, then another, then another. Then she saw another post from TruthTeller88, from a few days ago. "Saw Sarah Miller nodding off at her desk last week! The school needs to act!" A lie, a complete lie. She felt sick. Who was TruthTeller88? She looked at the account's other activity, old posts, liked pages. One liked page stood out: "Tiffany Evans - School Counselor - Future Leader." Tiffany. Tiffany Evans, the school counselor, always smiling too much, always asking about the Assistant Principal job Sarah also wanted. Tiffany, who sometimes looked at Sarah with a strange, hard light in her eyes. Tiffany, who Mark sometimes had "after-work meetings" with, about "school business." A cold dread filled Sarah. She remembered Tiffany asking too many questions about Sarah's doctor appointments for the pregnancy. Could Mark know? Could he be part of this? The idea was too horrible.

The next day at school was a nightmare. Parents called, demanding their kids be moved from her future classes. Her friends, other teachers, looked away when she walked by. Whispers followed her. The local coffee shop, where she got her bagel every morning, the owner was suddenly "deep cleaning" the counter after she touched it. She tried to talk to Mark that night, to show him the posts, the lies. He waved his hand. "It's just internet trolls, Sarah, ignore it. It'll blow over." He seemed annoyed, not concerned. Later, she heard him on the phone in the garage, talking to one of his buddies. His voice was low, but she heard it clearly. "She's radioactive," Mark laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "The guys at the homeless shelter wouldn't even share a bench with her now!" The words hit her harder than any online comment. Radioactive. Her own husband. The floor felt like it was tilting. She couldn't bring a baby into this, this town, this life, this marriage. The next morning, her hands trembled as she called the clinic in the next state over. She made an appointment. The receptionist was kind. The doctor at the clinic, Dr. Ramirez, when Sarah finally saw her a few days later, had a sad look in her eyes. "I've heard the gossip from your town, dear," Dr. Ramirez said softly. "Sometimes the world is a cruel place." Sarah just nodded, tears finally falling. She felt empty, broken.