The Girl They Buried Came Back a Queen

###8

"What?"

All the anger, the pain of over seven hundred days and nights, surged up and blanked my mind in an instant.

"You vicious snake, Delilah—I'll kill you!"

My slap landed hard across her face, leaving a crimson print. She fell with a sharp cry.

I lunged at her, fists flying.

"Ava, are you insane? You know Delilah’s sick and still attacked her!"

Dizzy and trembling, I was yanked off her. My brother shoved me to the floor.

"I didn’t do it—it was her! She bribed the prison—"

"Enough!" he barked. "We saw you hit her. Stop lying. Apologize."

Daniel rushed over, gathering the sobbing Delilah in his arms.

He glanced up at me—her scratches on his beloved’s face had flipped some switch inside him. His eyes darkened.

My parents said nothing, but their faces were etched with disappointment. The blame was always mine.

I knew, then. It didn’t matter what I said—they would never believe me. So why bother?

"I won’t apologize. Why should I bow to a monster like her?"

"Fine," my father snapped. "Send her back to prison. She can rot there until she admits her mistake."

At once, the bodyguards closed in. Their shadows surrounded me like vultures.

Suddenly, the memories slammed back—of lashes, electric shocks, of pain and shame in that hellhole they called a prison.

My whole body began to shake. My nails dug into my palms until blood welled up.

"I’m sorry..."

I broke.

I bent at the waist, a perfect 90 degrees.

"I was wrong. I’m sorry. I’m sorry..."

Ten times I apologized. They made me count them.

Someone hauled me upright. In my blurred vision, the man I once loved looked unfamiliar—twisted. That love had drained away with my dignity.

The wounds that had barely healed reopened, and blood began to stain through my clothes.

Daniel parted his lips, but I met his eyes and cut him off:

"Is that enough? Did it make your princess happy?"

Silence.

They stared at me, finally sensing something had cracked. Not just skin. Not just pride.

Something deeper.

I turned without a word.

Behind me, voices swirled—comforting Delilah, laughter mingling with sympathy. As if nothing had happened.

Then I heard her:

"The wedding was fake… but can I have a kiss from Daniel before I die?"

I paused on the stairs. My back to them, my heart numb.

Daniel hesitated. But my brother stepped in, smug:

"You and Delilah were childhood sweethearts. Won’t you grant her dying wish?"

My parents agreed.

And Daniel… he kissed her. Right there.

I didn’t cry. Didn’t blink.

Later, as I packed, a message popped up in Wren family group chat:

Mom: Ava, we’re planning a wedding for Delilah and Daniel. We’ll be at the hotel until then. Just come on the day.

Dad: Delilah might be upset if you show up. It’s okay if you don’t.

Brother: Don’t come. Don’t ruin her happiness.

Daniel called me.

"You don’t need to travel. Rest. After the wedding, I’ll take you on that honeymoon you wanted. Penguins in Antarctica, remember?"

I smiled faintly.

"Then I won’t go. I’ve prepared a gift. Hope you like it."

Click.

Two days later, they married.

Hours after I left.

That morning, I handed a courier a thick envelope.

Inside: a signed kidney donation agreement.

A medical certificate proving my stomach was perforated after drinking on behalf of the Wren family.

A damning video.

And one final letter, announcing their marriage to the world.

Then, I picked up my suitcase and left.

As I passed a trash bin, I tossed in the diamond engagement ring he gave me—like the worthless promise it was.

And as the plane roared overhead, I walked forward.

Toward a future that was wide, and quiet, and free.