They Called Me a Saint—Then Her Phone Exposed Who I Really Was

a bad person,” he said urgently. “She was just… scared. She didn’t want to be remembered as—”

“The villain?” I finished.

He flinched.

I nodded once, cold.

“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”

Then I closed the door.

I didn’t open the box for two days.

When I finally did, it was full of office leftovers—pens, a scarf, a framed photo of my wife smiling with coworkers continue reading …