Chapter 4

I reached Stonecreek Town in the early evening.

The place matched its name perfectly.

The road leading into the town was rough and uneven. Old stone houses lined both sides, coated in dust.

At the entrance stood a huge, old oak tree, and beneath it was a weathered bulletin board.

I parked the car out of sight just beyond the town. I put on the baseball cap and mask I had brought, leaving only my eyes exposed.

Then I lifted the large paper bag and slipped into the town, quiet and unnoticed.

By then, dusk had settled in. Most people were home eating dinner.

The whole place was quiet, with just a couple of dogs barking here and there.

I took the glue and brush I'd already prepped out of the bag.

I slapped the first A3-sized, full-color laminated poster right in the middle of the bulletin board.

In the photo, Mia was snuggled up in Charles's arms, smiling bright and sweet, except she wasn't wearing a thing.

I stepped back a few paces, admiring my masterpiece.

That really stood out.

Then I made my way down the main street, putting up posters as I went.

I put them on telephone poles, crumbling walls, the door of the corner shop, and even the main entrance of the town hall.

I took my time, carefully smoothing each poster flat and brushing out every bubble so it would stick.

Someone walked by. Curiosity pulled him closer.

He took one look and screamed. The hoe hit the ground with a clang.

He blinked hard, stared again, and then took off running.

"Oh my God! Big news!" he shouted. "It's Mia Linford! Someone plastered her photos all over the village!"

Soon, the whole town was in an uproar.

Doors flew open, and heads popped out everywhere.

Then came a wave of shocked cries, whispers, and angry shouts.

"Isn't that John Linford's daughter? The one who went off to college?" someone called out.

"Wow, city life really loosened her up," another snickered.

"Who's that guy with her? He looks familiar..." someone else wondered aloud.

"Doesn't matter who he is! John and Clara must be mortified now!" another voice shouted.

I stayed in the shadows, listening. Inside, I was cool as ice.

My mission was complete.

It was like pulling off a perfect operation—everything neat, every stitch in place.

I slipped the remaining dozens of posters through the cracks of every door in the town.

No one missed out.

Once everything was done, I quietly slid back into my car.

I didn't leave right away.

I sat there, watching that small town in the distance. Night had fallen, and the stone I'd thrown had already stirred everything up. The place was buzzing.

I remembered that Charles grew up in a small town just like this one.

The first time I went to his place, he pointed at the muddy road by the town entrance and said, "Sue, I'm going to get out of here, no matter what. I'll give you a better life."

And he did.

He got out and gave me that so-called "good life."

We lived in a big apartment and drove nice cars.

But somewhere along the way, he forgot to bring the heart that once promised we'd grow old together.

My phone started blowing up.

It was Charles.

I hung up.

He called again.

I hung up again.

After more than ten tries, he finally gave up and sent a text.

Charles: [Susan! What the hell are you doing? Have you lost your mind!]

I stared at those three exclamation marks. I could even picture his face. He must look frantic and furious.

In ten years of marriage, this was the first time he'd ever talked to me like that.

Back then, whenever I got upset, he'd soften his voice and coax me patiently until I calmed down.

But now, because of another woman, he was actually shouting at me.

I drove into the county town and checked into the cleanest hotel I could find.

I took a hot shower and changed into fresh clothes.

Then I sat down on the edge of the bed and started working on the next part of my plan.

Using my new Facebook account, also linked to the new number, I sent the photo along with a juicy, dramatic message to a local gossip page in Oakridge County.

I'd already come up with the perfect headline.

[Shocking! College girl from Oakridge County caught as the other woman. Her nude pics posted all over the town by the wife.]

In this age of viral content, I had to learn how to play the media game.

My training as a doctor made me meticulous—even in situations like this.

Whatever I did, every move had to be planned, every step thought out, with follow-up to steer the story and let the gossip do its work.

Only then did exhaustion finally creep in.

I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes.

But my mind refused to rest. Memories of Charles flooded in.

Back then, we'd sit together in our tiny rented room, splitting a cheap pizza.

He would pick out the few slices of sausage and drop them into my plate without a second thought.

On freezing winter nights, we squeezed together on a narrow single bed, just trying to keep warm.

He always wrapped the only thick blanket around me, shivering himself.

We used to dream about what our future would look like.

He used to say, "Someday, we'll have a daughter. She'll look just like you, with those sparkling eyes like stars."

Now, all those sweet, warm memories felt like poisoned daggers, stabbing into my heart again and again.

I thought I had gone numb.

I was wrong. It still hurt.

The pain had me curling up, like a wounded animal left on the ground.

And just then, my tears finally started to fall.

I wasn't crying for the man who betrayed me.

I was crying for that silly girl who once risked it all for love, reckless and hopelessly naive.

Today, I put that Susan Nolan to rest with my own hands.