"As long as you act like the victim he wants you to be," Ivy replied calmly, "he'll show his true colors."
The next day, Martha did exactly as Ivy instructed.
And she saw it.
The pattern. Arnold always painted her as the victim, always pushed her toward leaving or causing trouble.
Never once did he try to confront Ivy. Never once did he show real concern. Whenever she said that he needed to confront Ivy... he only avoided, as if he were afraid.
'So that's it,' she thought coldly. 'Ivy was right all along.'
Elsewhere, Arnold clenched his purse tightly. Since Martha wasn't listening to his words anymore, it was time.
Plan B.
With that thought lingering heavily in his mind, Arnold soon arrived outside Ivy's building, his breathing uneven, palms damp with sweat.
His eyes darted around nervously, as if the concrete walls themselves were judging him.
