Chapter 2

2.

After a long, tense standoff.

Chloe finally stepped back from the ledge and collapsed into Owen’s arms.

My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the ground, soaked in a cold sweat.

But it wasn't over. Gabriel, who had left, returned and stood in front of me.

He was backlit by the sun, his handsome face scrutinizing me as he asked in a low voice, "Miss Zoe Barnes, who are you? How do you know so much private information about me?"

…

Who am I?

I’m the Zoe who was murdered by that pair of scumbags.

In my last life, Chloe’s leap from her own wedding became headline news across New York.

And in her suicide note, she pointed every finger at me.

Overnight, I became public enemy number one.

“I hope every homewrecker in the world gets what they deserve!”

Angry netizens flooded all my social media accounts, cursing me with the most vile language imaginable.

I tried to explain. I called the police. I filed a defamation lawsuit.

But it was useless.

After all, who can argue with a dead person?

Later, when Chloe's private, anonymous Twitter account was leaked, I was dragged into a bottomless pit of despair.

Finally, on my way to a therapy appointment, my depression overwhelmed me. I ran into the Manhattan traffic and was killed instantly.

I pushed away the painful memories.

With practiced ease, I found Chloe's private Twitter account.

"He was distracted all night… I see, it's because she's back."

"I saw her. Why couldn't she just stay in Europe? Why did she have to come back and ruin my life?"

"He called out her name in his sleep. I know he's never gotten over her…"

"We were supposed to get married, but he's hesitating. It must be her, pulling the strings."

"The night before our wedding, my fiancé actually texted another woman to ask if there was still a chance for them… What should I do?? My heart is broken."

The most recent tweet stopped at, "Giving him one last chance. I'm going to be his most beautiful bride…"

Every word was written to sound heartfelt and tragic.

She painted herself as a humble, fragile victim, enduring humiliation for the sake of love.

But she never mentioned that I had clearly and firmly drawn a line with Owen right in front of her.

She also didn't mention that after his text asking, "Is there even a tiny chance for us?"

I had replied with a definitive "Absolutely not," before blocking him completely.

I sneered and posted the first tweet from my own new, anonymous account.

“I just want them to leave me alone, but she threatened to un-alive herself to force me to come to the wedding.

I’m so tired of being tangled up with them. Can anyone tell me what to do?”

…

I stood in a stall in the office bathroom, listening to the whispers outside.

"Did you hear? During the vows, Owen said Zoe's name instead of the bride's! The bride had a total meltdown and tried to jump from the terrace…"

"Oh my god, seriously? That's insane! I knew it, the way Owen looks at Zoe has always been weird…"

"It's true, I was there. They had a thing back in college. Why else do you think Zoe suddenly came back from Europe and just happened to join our company?"

"That poor bride, about to get married, and then 'the ex' comes back…"

"Just wait. I hope Zoe dares to show up at the next company party! It’s going to be a shitshow."

The next second, I pulled out my phone and replied to the event invitation from HR.

"Happy to attend."

To clear my name, the first step is to shut these gossiping bitches up for good.