She started hearing the rumor in silence more than in speech: in the clipped “how are you,” in Paula’s sudden fascination with her phone, in the way laughter thinned when she entered a room. No one said anything outright, which made it worse; the story was always almost there, just behind their teeth. Eventually, Melissa realized the cruelest part wasn’t whether they believed it. It was that, for the first time, they were talking about her at all—and she wasn’t sure if the ache in her chest was shame or relief.
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