Chapter 3

"Nora, you're viral."

Lily, the only nurse in the isolation wing willing to speak to me, cracked the door open and showed me her phone screen.

The top trending topic on Instagram: *#SterlingGroupCEOWifeDiagnosedWithHIV*

The post featured a leaked security screenshot of me being dragged down the hallway by orderlies, my hair disheveled and my hospital gown stained with blood.

The comment section was already flooded with over a hundred thousand messages.

*“Disgusting! How dare she donate bone marrow with that disease? She’s trying to commit murder!”*

*“I bet she got it from sleeping around. What a cheap slut.”*

*“The Sterling family is so cursed to have married her.”*

"Who leaked this?" I took the phone, my fingers completely numb.

"Your mother-in-law," Lily whispered. "An hour ago, she posted a long statement on her social media, claiming her daughter-in-law hid her HIV status to scam them into marriage, and contaminated her daughter's body with infected bone marrow."

She scrolled to the post.

Eleanor's wording was incredibly calculated. Not a single curse word was used.

*“I am just a mother trying to protect her daughter.”*

*“I don’t blame anyone but myself for not seeing her true colors.”*

*“I have contacted our legal team and will use all legal means to protect my family.”*

The comments below were overflowing with sympathy for her.

Suddenly, my phone in my pocket started buzzing violently as notifications poured in.

A former coworker: *“Nora, is this true? When you were at the office, did you…”* The message was unsent and retracted halfway through.

My college roommate: *“Nora, I don’t even know what to say. Let’s just not talk for a while. Sorry.”*

Then, she blocked me.

It wasn't just her. Gray system notifications kept popping up one after another: *You have been removed from the chat.*

In less than half an hour, twenty-three of my contacts blocked and deleted me.

Then, Grandma Evelyn called.

I hesitated until the third ring before answering. My grandmother was eighty-two, living in a senior care facility. Her hearing was poor, so she always shouted over the phone.

"Nora! The nurses here showed me the news on their phones! They say you have some kind of disease! Tell me it’s not true, sweetheart!"

"It's not true, Grandma. It's just a misunderstanding. We’ll clear it up very soon."

"Then why won't they let me call you? The care facility staff told me not to contact you anymore. They said it's contagious—"

A chaotic scuffling sound came from the other end of the line. Someone was trying to take the phone from her.

"Ma'am, the doctor said you shouldn't get agitated—"

"Let go of me! That's my granddaughter! She is not sick!"

The call cut off. I dialed back. *The phone you are trying to reach is switched off.* I tried again. Still switched off.

Lily stood at the door, looking at me with pity, but she didn't know what to say.

Twenty minutes later, the door opened again.

This time, it was Julian's personal assistant, carrying a paper bag.

"Miss Vance, Mr. Sterling asked me to deliver this."

Inside the bag was a brand-new phone and a legal document. The new phone’s screen was open to the account deletion pages for my Instagram, Snapchat, and TikTok accounts.

The printed paper read: *I, Nora Vance, hereby voluntarily delete all my social media accounts and pledge never to publicly discuss any matters related to the Sterling family in any form.*

"Mr. Sterling said that if you sign this and the divorce papers, he will arrange your HIV re-test immediately," the assistant said, adjusting his glasses. "If you don’t—the half a million comments online will keep spreading. You won't even be able to step foot outside."

"Mr. Sterling wanted me to remind you—he can protect you temporarily, but he won't protect you forever."

He placed a pen on top of the paper bag and stepped back, waiting.

I looked at the pen, then at the Sterling Group logo pinned to his lapel.

Suddenly, I laughed.

"Tell Julian something for me."

The assistant bowed slightly.

"Tell him his mother's report serial number is PM-20240317-08842. Tell him to go to the CDC and check who that number actually belongs to."

"The CDC database is federally encrypted. Even Dr. Ryan Hayes can’t delete those records."