Page 117 of What Comes Around

“OMG. Someone leaked Apple’s mugshot and the arrest affidavit.”

A link followed.

This time I didn’t hesitate. I tapped it, watching as a social media post loaded, Apple’s mugshot filling the screen. Beneath it were scanned pages of the affidavit—her name, the charges, identity theft, fraud.

My name listed as the victim.

Another message came in immediately.

“And someone posted the café security footage. And it wasn’t me who leaked any of it.”

I opened the video.

Grainy security footage filled the screen, the angle from above but clear enough. The coffee shop. Apple sitting across from me. Then the moment she snapped. Her voice rising, the table flipping, me recoiling as everything scattered. Police stepping in seconds later, pulling her away while she still fought them.

Beside me, Knox shifted slightly.

“What is it?” he asked.

I didn’t answer, just turned the phone toward him.

He leaned closer, his shoulder brushing mine as he watched from the beginning, silent and still.

But I felt the change in him.

The anger. Cold. Controlled. Simmering just beneath the surface.

When the video ended, the car settled into a heavy silence.

Knox turned his head toward me. “How often has she done that to you?”

For a moment, I just stared at him.

Of all the questions he could have asked, when was this, is it real, why didn’t you tell me, he went straight to the one that cut through everything.

“It wasn’t always like that,” I said. “Not always so obvious. Most of it was disguised. Subtle. Manipulation. Twisting things. Making me doubt myself.”

I drew in a slow breath. “But lately she’s been spiraling. Worse than ever.”

Knox’s jaw tightened, the muscle ticking once. “And you never told anyone?”

“What would have been the point?” I replied. “When I was growing up, everything revolved around Apple because of the kidnapping. Apple was depressed. Apple was fragile. Apple needed support.”

I shook my head. “There was never room for what she did to me.”

Knox’s eyes flashed with something when I mentioned the past, but it disappeared before I could read it.

He exhaled slowly. “That won’t happen again.”

I looked down at my hands, suddenly aware of how tightly I was gripping the phone.

“I don’t need you to fix anything,” I said, though it came out softer than I meant.

“I know,” he replied. “But I’m not letting her near you again.”

The way he said it, calm and measured and absolute, sent warmth through my chest.

Chapter 37: Off Balance