5

Malisa’s POV

After leaving the scene, I sat in the car quietly. In my hand, my phone vibrated non-stop. Eric's number flashed on the screen repeatedly, but I had no intention of picking it up. I just sat there, letting the sound of the vibrations become the background to my busy mind. A small smile spread across my face, as my thoughts drifted to my next move.

The secret footage had been uploaded. I imagined the world connected through their screens watching a short but devastating video. In it, Serena’s homeroom teacher was seen receiving a thick brown envelope from someone.

The face of the person giving the envelope was not clearly visible—intentionally—but anyone could see that the transaction was full of secrecy and deceit. The envelope opened the door to serious doubts about her role in this whole mess.

My phone vibrated again. This time it was a text from Eric. I skimmed it.

“Malisa, we need to talk. It’s urgent. Please answer my call.”

I snorted softly. How ironic, he was begging me now, after all his betrayals in his past life. I wasn’t going to give him that luxury. Not today.

I drove to a small, quiet cafe on the corner of the city, where I usually meditate. The warm atmosphere and the refreshing aroma of coffee made me feel at ease. Sitting in the corner, I took a sip of coffee and opened my laptop.

As the screen lit up, I began to read the comments that flooded the video post. Responses ranged from positive to critical. Some comments touched my heart, while others left me feeling a little depressed.

I took note of some of the comments that interested me, trying to understand other people’s perspectives. This moment gave me a chance to reflect on what I had created and how others had responded to it. With each comment I read, I felt more connected to my audience, even though I was sometimes anxious about how my work would be received.

The quiet cafe and the friendly atmosphere gave me space to reflect on this journey, while planning my next steps.

“Who’s behind the envelope? Does anyone know?”

"Serena's homeroom teacher seems very suspicious. What role does she play in all of this?"

"I'm starting to doubt who the real culprit is behind this case. Maybe we're all too quick to judge."

I sipped my coffee slowly, letting the bitter taste run down my throat. Public opinion was shifting. The doubts I had planted were starting to bear fruit.

Meanwhile, I could imagine Eric panicking. He must know I had something bigger up my sleeve, something that could destroy all the lies he had created. I had deliberately made this first step small, just to shake the foundation they had built.

My phone vibrated again. This time it was a message from his assistant:

"The next recording is ready. Do you want me to upload it now or wait for instructions?"

I typed a short reply: "Wait."

I didn't want to rush. Everything had to be done perfectly.

As the afternoon approached, Eric finally gave up on contacting me directly. He left a long voice message, his voice sounding desperate. I played the recording just to see how desperate he was.

"Malisa, please. I know you're angry. But whatever you think you know, we can talk about it. I don't want this to get any worse than it is now. Serena... she doesn't deserve this.”

I chuckled at his mention of Serena as if he cared. He talked about Serena, my daughter, as if she had no part in the tragedy.

"I know you want the truth, but we have to protect our family, Malisa. Please," Eric continued in the message.

Protect our family? That made me want to throw up. The only person he wanted to protect was himself.

I deleted the message and went on with my day as if nothing had happened.

The next day, social media and the morning news were filled with the video. Serena's homeroom teacher's name began to be talked about. The media began to dig into her background, trying to find out if she had been involved in similar incidents before. Public suspicion began to fall on her.

That afternoon, I received a call from my assistant. Her voice sounded tense but excited.

"Miss Malisa, we have managed to obtain additional documents from our source. There is evidence that the homeroom teacher received a large, unreported payment a few weeks before Serena's incident."

I smiled at the news. The next step was in sight.

"Good," I replied. "Send me all the files. Make sure no one knows where this information came from."

After hanging up, I began to plan my next move. If the first recording had been shocking enough, this additional evidence would be a major blow.

Toward evening, Eric tried to contact me again. This time, he left a text message:

"Malisa, we can work this out privately. Please. Don't do this. It could destroy us all."

His message made me laugh bitterly.

"All of us?" Who did he think he was fooling? I already knew who he was.

I decided to reply, for the first time since this whole thing had started:

"Eric, you're going to get what you deserve."

That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Let him figure out the rest for himself.

The next morning, the additional documents were uploaded. This time, it wasn't just the homeroom teacher who was in the spotlight. Several suspicious financial transactions involving the school and several other people were revealed. The media went wild.

I spent the day reading article after article about the "new scandal" involving Serena's school. Many began to question how a seemingly kind teacher could be involved in such a big conspiracy.

Eric was not seen in public all day. I knew he was trying to figure out a way to stop the leak. But it was too late.

That night, I received a call from an unknown number. I answered it cautiously.

"Malisa."

Eric's voice came from the other end. Tired. Full of desperation.

"What do you want?" he asked in a low voice. "I know you did. You set this all up. What do you really want?"

I smiled to myself, even though he couldn't see it.

"I want the truth, Eric. Nothing more, nothing less."

He paused. I could hear his heavy breathing.

"What truth? You know I never... I just wanted to protect Serena."

"Protect Serena?" I interrupted. "You didn't even protect yourself. Do you think I don't know what happened?"

Eric fell silent again, but I could tell his mind was racing, trying to find a way out.

"Malisa, listen... we can talk. Please. Don't do this again."

I chuckled.

"It's too late to talk, Eric. I just want to see you fall, just like I did."

I hung up before he could respond. It felt good to be in this position, where I could finally control the narrative.

I stared out the window at the night sky, feeling content for the first time in a long time. This war wasn't over yet, but I could see the end. And this time, I was going to be the victor.