Framed for a Hit-and-Run, I Divorced

Chloe Miller called me in tears, claiming she had been in a car accident.

Afraid her brother would blame her, she begged me, his wife, to negotiate with the other party on her behalf.

When I rushed to the scene, the two cars were wrecked beyond recognition. The young woman, Emily Brooks, lay lifeless in a pool of blood. Rage boiled inside me.

But Chloe only looked at me coldly, a cruel and cunning smile tugging at her lips.

“Sister-in-law, what are you talking about? I don’t understand… wasn’t it you who hit her?”

“Otherwise, why are you here in the middle of the night?”

“And driving the car my brother gave you?”

Her words struck me like lightning, leaving me stunned and unable to think. My first instinct was to call the police and get an ambulance to confirm the girl’s condition. But when I hung up, Chloe had already vanished.

Panicked, I searched for her and left the scene. When the police later dragged me to the station, I was accused of hit-and-run.

Terrified, I immediately called Jason Miller, begging him to ask the Miller family’s lawyer to help me. He came—but instead of helping, he accused me of being mentally ill and claimed I couldn’t remember the accident. As my husband, he even signed the confession papers on my behalf.

Because of the so-called “mental illness,” I wasn’t detained immediately, but I was forbidden from leaving New York City.

I couldn’t believe that the man I had been married to for five years would frame me for a crime. Choking back tears, I ran after him and asked why he was doing this.

He shook off my hand, still smiling, though his words were as cold as ice.

“What else could I do? You went against Chloe first, insisting on suing the person who hurt her. I’m just giving you a taste of what it feels like to be falsely accused.”

“You can’t handle this? Then how do you think Chloe felt when she was dragged through a lawsuit?”

Seeing me broken and lost, Jason sighed heavily.

“Rachel Evans, I’ve told you before—Chloe is my only sister, my family. Hurting her means crossing my bottom line.”

“You’ve been a lawyer for years; I’m sure you’ll find a way out. But I want you to remember this mistake for the rest of your life—never repeat it.”

My eyes burned with unshed tears.

“I didn’t do it! Chloe deliberately hurt someone. She killed my client in revenge!”

“You’re still in denial! Chloe is part of the Miller family. She has everything she could ever want—why would she target some intern who just joined the company?”

“If you apologize to her, drop the charges, and clear her name, I can get you out of this.”

He either didn’t know the truth or didn’t care what I said. Chloe had intentionally slashed Emily Brooks’s face in the stairwell—just because she spoke to Jason at a meeting. I only wanted to stand up for the victim, but in his eyes, that became my crime.

In five years of marriage, this wasn’t the first time Jason ignored me for Chloe.

Once, when we were on a date in the suburban mountains, Chloe called, claiming she was being harassed at a bar in Manhattan. Jason immediately abandoned me, driving off to rescue her.

I trudged twenty kilometers down a rain-soaked mountain trail. When my phone finally regained signal, his first call wasn’t to check on me—it was to demand I pick her up from the police station.

Normally calm and detached, Jason would repeatedly make exceptions for Chloe. He knew the best solution was to seek forgiveness, but he still raged about breaking someone’s leg.

And so it went, countless times.

In our marriage, there were always three people.

As long as Chloe frowned, I had to step aside.