In the beginning, I absolutely hated men.
I even hosted a radio program to tear them apart—every flaw, every lie, every betrayal. I made it my mission to remind the world how despicable they could be.
Then I met Lucas.
He was sweet, gentle, and kind—the kind of man I thought only existed in fairy tales. Against my will, the ice in my heart began to melt.
He swept me off my feet, married me, and together, we built a life. Three children, his pride and joy.
My friends approved. Of course, they did—they were the ones who introduced us. They stood by, clapping, smiling, basking in the glow of my supposed happiness.
And for a while, everything was fine. Perfect, even.
Until that day.
May 6, 1925.