#Chapter 92: Shattered Faith
As I walked down the long hallway, my thoughts swirled in a storm of anger, hurt, and confusion. Bruce's sinister words echoed in my ears, and that vile video played back in my mind. The image of that video tape burned itself in my mind.
How had things come to this point? I had believed in Timothy, had allowed myself to be vulnerable with him, only to have that trust shattered by his thoughtless actions. The memory of our laughter, our conversations, and the stolen glances now felt tainted by the knowledge of that recording.
My fingers clenched into fists at my sides. The anger wasn't just directed at Timothy or Bruce; it was directed at myself for ever allowing such a situation to unfold. How had I been so blind?
I reached the mailbox at the end of the hall, my hands trembling as I opened it and mechanically retrieved the contents. Nothing but bills, advertisements, and junk. The anger within me grew, a wildfire threatening to consume all reason.
As I closed the mailbox, a bit

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