Chapter 4

"It's not a curse—it's a fact."

Elliot, who stood a full head taller than Nathan, leaned in close, his presence radiating quiet menace.

Instinctively, Nathan stepped back, his confidence faltering.

“You again?” he sneered, his eyes darting between Elliot and me, suspicion flickering in his gaze.

“So this is what you’ve been hiding, huh?” he spat. “Always claiming your job is some big secret, disappearing for months at a time—turns out you were shacking up with him the whole time.”

His voice rose, laced with bitterness. “How long has this been going on? You’ve probably been sleeping together for years. And now you’re pretending to be some innocent victim in front of Carol? It’s pathetic.”

Before I could respond, Elliot’s fist shot out, landing squarely on Nathan’s jaw. The punch sent him sprawling to the ground, clutching his face in shock.

Carol, who had been trying to blend in with the crowd, finally broke character. With a gasp, she rushed forward, throwing herself down beside Nathan to help him up.

“You can’t just hit someone in broad daylight!” she shrieked, glaring at Elliot. “Aren’t you afraid we’ll call the cops?”

I crouched down next to her, my tone light but cutting. “You should worry more about yourself.”

I reached out and brushed a lock of hair off her shoulder. A few strands came loose, falling into my palm.

“You’re losing hair,” I said flatly, letting the strands drift to the ground. “Might want to get that checked out.”

Her face twisted with anger, and she slapped my hand away. “You’re insane. It’s just a cold! Stop trying to make everything into some dramatic performance.”

I stood, brushing off my hands. “Suit yourself.”

Carol’s hostility didn’t faze me anymore. Without another word, I grabbed Elliot’s arm and led him out of the café, leaving the scene of chaos behind.

Snow was falling softly, the crisp air cooling the lingering heat of my frustration.

“Sorry about that,” I said, glancing at Elliot. “I didn’t mean for you to get bitten by rabid dogs.”

Elliot shoved his hands into his coat pockets, walking in step beside me. “Don’t worry about it.”

His voice was calm, steady as always. “They’re already showing symptoms. Are you going to feel sorry for them?”

I stopped in my tracks, the question hanging in the frosty air.

“Maybe I would have,” I admitted after a pause.

Iridium-192 is dangerous. I had warned them repeatedly, but they treated my words as empty threats, too focused on framing me to realize the risk they’d taken.

I glanced down at the snow beneath my feet, where the pristine white flakes mixed with the muddy street. The filth reminded me of them—shameless, self-serving, and beyond redemption.

I stepped forward, leaving the mess behind.

“But now?” I said, my voice cold. “Now, I just hope they get exactly what they deserve.”

Later that evening, Carol went live on her social media platform.

Her face filled the screen, tears streaming down her cheeks as she crafted the perfect sob story for her audience.

“I never tried to steal someone else’s boyfriend,” she said, her voice trembling. “Nathan and I have known each other for years. We’ve been together long before Claire ever came into the picture.”

She sniffled, her makeup smudging as she leaned closer to the camera.

“And Claire? She’s the one who stole from herself and tried to frame me for it. Thank God there was surveillance footage to prove my innocence.”

Her voice cracked as she continued, “She’s about to go to prison soon. Are you really going to believe anything a criminal says?”

Carol’s tears were convincing, and her performance was Oscar-worthy.

Her followers ate it up.

The comments section exploded.

“Wait, what? Claire’s a criminal?”

“Lies. The cheater and her boyfriend got exposed, and now they’re trying to shift the blame.”

“Hold on… what did Claire even accuse her of stealing?”

I sipped my tea, scrolling through the comments like a casual observer. I copied the last comment and pasted it into the chat, spamming it a few times to make sure Carol saw it.

As the flood of questions grew, Carol finally addressed the elephant in the room.

“She said it was some… Iridium-192 or whatever,” she said dismissively, waving her hand like the whole thing was ridiculous. “It’s just some pretentious science term she threw around to scare me.”

She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “She even tried to tell me it was dangerous—like it could kill people or something. So dramatic, right?”

But her smug attitude faltered as she suddenly covered her mouth, gagging uncontrollably.

Among the flurry of comments, someone finally connected the dots.

“Wait… Iridium-192? Are you serious? That stuff is deadly!”

“Can someone explain? I don’t know what that is.”

“You don’t need to know what it is. Just understand this: if you carry that stuff around for even two hours, you’re going to get radiation poisoning. And trust me, it’s not a pretty way to go.”

The comment section exploded, the chat scrolling so fast it was almost unreadable.

And then, on live stream, it happened.

Carol’s eyes suddenly rolled back, and her body went stiff. Without a word, she collapsed, hitting the floor with a sickening thud.