Chapter 459
“`
– For each row, replace every instance of “Chapter 459” with “Chapter N” (where N is that row’s chapter number). Do not alter any other text, HTML attributes, or formatting.
Chapter 459:
Carmen slipped past the registration desk, dissolving into the crowd of wealthy alumni. She lifted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray and held it as a prop, her eyes moving steadily from face to face across the room.
Then a woman in a navy-blue cocktail dress dropped her clutch purse. The heavy clasp clattered sharply against the marble floor. The woman looked up — and stared at Carmen with her mouth open in absolute shock.
“Oh my God,” the woman whispered. “Carmen p>
Carmen went still. She studied the woman’s face as the recognition slowly assembled itself.
“Veronica,” she said. Her voice was surprisingly steady.
𝗜𝗇𝗍𝗲ո𝘀e 𝗋𝘰𝗆аnсe o𝘯
Veronica had been her roommate for three years.
Veronica rushed forward and grabbed Carmen’s arms, her eyes wide and already filling with tears. “Ferris told everyone you were in a terrible accident. He said you were in a coma in Europe and didn’t want any visitors. And then we just — we lost contact. We all thought…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
The confirmation of the Golden family’s lie hit Carmen like a fist to the stomach.
“I didn’t die,” Carmen said quietly. She gripped Veronica’s wrist and pulled her out of the crowded hall and into a quiet, empty corridor near the coat check.
“Veronica, I need you to listen to me,” Carmen said, her eyes burning with desperate focus. “I lost my memory in the crash. I don’t remember my senior year. I need you to tell me who I was dating p>
Veronica’s face went immediately pale. She glanced down the hallway, as if expecting something to emerge from the shadows.
“Carmen,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “you don’t remember him p>
“Tell me p>
Veronica wrapped her arms around herself. “He was terrifying. He wasn’t a student — he was older. Powerful. He never came into the dorms. He always sent a fleet of black town cars with tinted windows to pick you up.” She swallowed hard. “You changed, Carmen. You stopped spending time with us. He would book the entire coffee shop off-campus for private events just so you could study alone. One time, a guy from our economics class tried to come in and a man in a sharp suit politely but firmly told him the establishment was closed for the evening.” She shook her head slowly. “It was a complete, suffocating obsession p>
The nausea rolled through Carmen in a wave.
“Did I — did I get pregnant?” She forced the words out.
Veronica nodded slowly, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Yes. You told me right before graduation. You said you were going to elope p>
Carmen reached into her coat pocket with numb fingers and pulled out her phone. She opened a browser, pulled up a high-resolution press photo of Senator Justin Collins, and held the glowing screen directly in front of Veronica’s face.
“Is this him p>
Veronica looked at the screen. She gasped and took a step back.
“Yes,” she whispered. “That’s him. When you had the accident, he locked down the entire New Haven hospital. He had armed guards at the doors. He wouldn’t let anyone in. And then — you just vanished p>
The final piece slammed into place with a deafening, catastrophic finality.