The morning sun over my childhood home in Charlottesville brought no warmth, only the cold, sharp clarity of a hangover without a drop of alcohol.

Three weeks before the criminal trial was scheduled to begin, a mandatory pre-trial civil deposition took place at the circuit court building.

The room was small, clinical, and intense. Sitting on one side of the mahogany table was Chloe Bennett, dressed in a muted gray suit, her hair pulled back tightly, devoid of her usual flashy jewelry and arrogant composure. Beside her sat her defense attorney, a weary-looking man who looked like he had spent the last month regretting taking her case.

On my side sat Sarah Jenkins, Marcus Vance, and myself.

Ethan had refused to attend the deposition, remaining in custody after his bail was revoked due to attempting to contact a witness—me—through an anonymous burner account three days after his arrest.

Sarah set her recording device on the table and hit record. "This is the civil deposition of Chloe Bennett in the matter of Vance v. Vance, Bennett, et al. Ms. Bennett, please state your name for the record."

"Chloe Elizabeth Bennett," she muttered, staring down at her folded hands.

"Ms. Bennett," Sarah began, her tone quiet, precise, and utterly terrifying. "In your sworn affidavit provided to the District Attorney, you stated that Ethan Vance was the sole instigator of the online betting group known as the Hazel Betting Pool. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Chloe whispered.

"Speak up, please," Sarah requested coolly.

"Yes! It was Ethan’s idea!" Chloe snapped, her composure cracking. "He started the group chat three months after they began dating!"

"And what was the purpose of this group chat, Chloe?" I asked, speaking up for the first time.

Chloe looked at me across the table. For three years, she had looked down her nose at me, treating me like an unwelcome interloper in Ethan’s life. Now, she couldn't even maintain eye contact for more than two seconds.

"It was... it was just a game at first," Chloe stuttered, her voice shaking. "Ethan said you were too intense. He said you were too needy, and he wanted to see how far he could push your buttons before you broke."

"And did you participate in these pranks, Ms. Bennett?" Sarah interjected.

"I... I just went along with it," Chloe lied.

Sarah pulled a printed document from her briefcase and slid it across the table. "I show you Exhibit C. This is a text message from your phone dated August 14th of last year. You wrote to Ethan: ‘Let me come over while she’s at work and leave my earring on her nightstand. I bet five hundred dollars she loses her mind by dinner.’ Did you write that message, Ms. Bennett?"

Chloe stared at the paper, her lower lip trembling. She looked at her attorney, who simply closed his eyes and shook his head.

"Did you write it, Chloe?" Sarah pressed.

"Yes," Chloe choked out, a tear spilling down her cheek.

"And did you receive payment from Ethan Vance when I found that earring and confronted him?" I asked, leaning forward, my eyes locked on hers.

Chloe didn't answer.

"Answer the question, Ms. Bennett," the court reporter instructed.

"Yes," Chloe wept into her hands. "He paid me five hundred dollars through Venmo."

"So you didn't just participate," Sarah declared, leaning back in her chair. "You profited financially from the deliberate emotional torture of Hazel Vance."

"I’m sorry, okay?!" Chloe suddenly screamed, slamming her hands against the table as tears ruined her mascara. "I’m sorry, Hazel! Ethan promised me it was all harmless! He promised me you’d never find out! He said you were too stupid to ever check his phone!"

I looked at the weeping, broken woman across the table. There was no joy in seeing her break, no sense of triumph in her tears. Only the profound, satisfying realization that these people had never been superior to me. They were small, cowardly, and deeply insecure parasites who fed on the pain of others because they had nothing of substance inside themselves.

I stood up from the table, smoothing down my blazer.