Chapter 2
The room stayed silent after Lauren ended the call.
No one touched the papers.
No one spoke.
The woman who had slapped me stood across from the table, breathing hard, her face wet with tears and shock.
My cheek throbbed.
Hers was red too.
For one terrible moment, we simply stared at each other.
Two women bleeding from the same lie.
My boss, Daniel Price, picked up one screenshot carefully.
“Hannah,” he said slowly, “do you know this number?”
“No.”
The woman wiped her face.
“It’s the number my husband has been texting.”
“What’s your name?” I asked.
She looked ashamed now.
“Claire. Claire Bennett.”
“And your husband?”
“Mark Bennett.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know him.”
Claire’s lips trembled.
“I thought you did.”
“I know.”
That was the worst part.
She had not come into that room because she wanted to ruin my career.
She came because someone had ruined her life using my face.
Daniel turned to the conference room.
“Everyone out except Hannah, Claire, and legal.”
Legal.
The word made people move.
Chairs scraped.
Whispers followed.
My coworkers avoided my eyes as they left.
Some looked embarrassed.
Some curious.
Some disappointed the drama had ended before they got more.
Maya from finance paused by the door.
“You okay?”
I touched my cheek.
“No.”
She nodded.
“I’ll stay nearby.”
That tiny kindness almost made me cry.
Daniel called our company counsel, Alicia Grant.
Claire sat down like her legs had stopped working.
I sat across from her.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered, “I’m sorry I hit you.”
I looked at her.
“I’m sorry I hit you back.”
She gave a broken laugh.
“I think I deserved it.”
“No,” I said. “Lauren deserved it.”
Claire covered her face.
“My husband said you were obsessed with him.”
My stomach turned.
“What?”
“He said you kept contacting him. Then I found the messages. The photos. The hotel addresses. I thought he was lying to protect you.”
“Why would he send money to Lauren?”
Claire looked up sharply.
“You think he sent that?”
I turned the receipt toward her.
The sender name was not visible in the screenshot.
Only the recipient.
Lauren Avery.
Claire pulled out her phone with shaking hands.
“I have the bank record.”
She opened a photo.
Sender: Mark Bennett.
Recipient: Lauren Avery.
Amount: $4,500.
Note: For keeping Hannah quiet.
I leaned back.
The room blurred.
My best friend had not only used my face.
She had been paid.
But by whom, really?
Mark?
Lauren?
Both?
Alicia arrived ten minutes later.
Silver glasses.
Sharp eyes.
Calm voice.
She looked at my cheek, then at Claire’s, then at the stack of papers.
“Start from the beginning,” she said.
Claire began.
Her husband had been acting strange for six months.
Late nights.
Hidden phone.
Defensive answers.
Then she found messages from a profile named Hannah Miller.
My photos.
My company listed in the bio.
My city.
My face.
The messages were intimate.
Flirtatious.
Then colder.
Demanding money.
Threatening to tell Claire everything.
That made me sit up.
“Threatening?”
Claire nodded.
“She said Mark owed her for staying silent.”
I looked at the receipt again.
For keeping Hannah quiet.
Suddenly the note looked different.
Not money to Lauren for silence.
Money to someone pretending to be me, using Lauren as the account.
Alicia said, “This may be identity fraud, extortion, and defamation.”
Claire’s face went pale.
“Extortion?”
I whispered, “Lauren was blackmailing him with my face.”
Alicia looked at me.
“Do you know where Lauren is right now?”
I opened my phone.
Location sharing.
Lauren and I had shared locations for years.
Best friends do that when they trust each other.
Her dot appeared instantly.
A hotel five miles away.
My mouth went dry.
“Claire,” I said, “does your husband travel for work today?”
She looked at the screen.
May you like
Then her face collapsed.
“That’s his hotel.”
