Chapter 26

• Samantha’s POV
• I was dragged out of the church, the cold metal of the handcuffs biting into my skin. Every step felt like a public execution. The crowd parted, their wide eyes filled with a mixture of shock, judgment, and something far worse—pity. I hated that the most. Pity was for people who were broken, and I refused to be seen as one of them. Whispers followed me, rippling through the sea of faces, but I kept my gaze forward, head held high. I didn’t need their words to remind me of my fall from grace.
• The van loomed ahead like a dark omen. Its tinted windows reflected a version of me I barely recognized—disheveled, eyes hollow with exhaustion. The back doors swung open, and without hesitation, I was shoved inside. I stumbled, catching myself against the cold, hard metal of the van's walls.