MIRA

I sit up in my room. My head hurts from all the thoughts I try to shove away. And suddenly, It's 12:01 a.m.

I know the moment the video drops, not because I’m watching, but because my phone begins exploding with notifications like thunder. Jerry bursts into the room, his face pale, breathing shallow.

“It’s out, Mi..”

I don’t need him to say more. My stomach drops like a stone sinking into the river. The edited “confession,” my fractured voice spliced into a lie, is now a ...