Stolen Scripts, Shattered Life

on autopilot while my mind replayed his wor

se he' d bought for us. The prison he' d built for me. The framed scri

y entered. He always said it was his "chaos space,

a blank. Then, a thought sparked. Sabrina. I pulled out my phone

th. 0-

the combination loc

gle one I had written in the last five years. But my name wasn't on the cover pa

ered to be creative

gany desk. I lifted the screen. It asked for a pa

fessional poster for "Dust Devil Heart." My story. My characters. And

ivity. Years of messages, sent to an unmarked, anonymous email address. Emails with subject lines like "Scene 4 rewrite,"

round each other. Ethan and Sabrina on the set of my movie, him looking at her with that same adoring expression. Etha

mountain of his betrayal. He hadn't jus