Before he—before Nathaniel pretending to be Harold—could give me an answer, a furious shout tore through the room.

“Harold, what do you think you’re doing?!”

I stiffened. Delilah was standing at the doorway, her face pale, her chest rising and falling as if she had run all the way upstairs. Her eyes flicked from his face to mine, then locked on our barely separated lips.

Her expression twisted.

“You disgusting little snake!” she shrieked, rushing forward and shoving me with both hands. I stumbled backward, my spine slamming against the bedframe. “Did you just make a move on my husband?”

My throat closed. I couldn’t even form a sound.

Her finger stabbed toward my face. “So this is your plan? Your husband is dead, your son is gone, and now you’re trying to steal what belongs to me?”

“Honey, it’s not like that,” he said hurriedly, stepping toward her. “I was trying to calm her down. She leaned in first.”

Each word felt like a hammer to my ribs.

This was the man who once shielded me from raised voices, who used to stand between me and the world whenever I was afraid. Now he had thrown me in front of the fire without hesitation.

My chest burned, the air refusing to go in properly, like my lungs had forgotten their job.

Delilah sneered as she closed the distance. Her hand shot into my hair, jerking my head back so hard stars exploded behind my eyes.

“No—he’s my husband!” I blurted out, desperate, foolish hope driving the words from my mouth. Maybe if he saw her hurting me, he’d finally tell the truth.

Instead, Delilah laughed. It wasn’t a sound of humor. It was sharp and ugly.

“You’ve really lost your mind,” she said. “That man is Harold. And he belongs to me.”

The door slammed open again.

Lucinda rushed in, eyes flashing. She used to call me her daughter. She used to hug me when I cried.

Relief surged through me. This time, she would make things right.

“What is going on here?” she demanded.

But before I could answer, she crossed the room in two strides and slapped me hard across the face. My head snapped to the side, my cheek exploding with pain.

“Get a grip,” she said icily. “Your husband is dead. Stop humiliating yourself.”

I swayed, dizzy, barely staying upright.

“Mom, don’t be angry with her,” Nathaniel said softly, wearing Harold’s face like a mask. “She’s grieving. We look alike—it’s natural she’d get confused.”

Confused.

Not wronged. Not hurt. Just confused.

Then he pulled Delilah into his arms. She melted against him like she belonged there, one hand fisting in his shirt. Over his shoulder, she met my gaze and smiled.

Not kindly.

Triumphantly.

Lucinda’s voice cracked like a whip. “Eleanor. Kneel down and apologize.”

I stared at her, stunned. “What did you say?”

“Get on your knees,” she repeated. “You insulted your sister-in-law. Make it right.”

Blood rushed out of my face. “She isn’t my—”

I stopped myself. There was no point. Not a single person in this room was on my side.

Nathaniel looked at me with false concern. “Eleanor, you’ve been through a lot. You shouldn’t act like this. You really need professional help.”

I wanted to scream. I didn’t need therapy. I needed my husband to admit the truth. I needed my friend to stop pretending she hadn’t destroyed my life. I needed just one person to believe me.

“Don’t drag this out,” he said gently. “You’ll upset Delilah. Just apologize so we can move on.”

My lips shook. “I won’t.”

Lucinda’s patience vanished. “Do it. Now.”

The pounding in my ears drowned everything else. My legs trembled until I couldn’t hold myself up anymore. Slowly, painfully, I sank to the floor, the cold seeping into my bones.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

Delilah tilted her head, satisfied. “Make sure it never happens again.”

That was when something inside me finally gave way.

They weren’t mistaken. They weren’t confused.

They were working together to crush me.

They left without another glance, his arm tight around her waist.

And I collapsed completely.

I covered my face and cried until my chest felt hollow, until I couldn’t remember what it was like not to hurt.

With shaking fingers, I grabbed my phone and dialed the one number I swore I’d never call again.

When my brother answered, I broke.

“I was wrong,” I sobbed. “I shouldn’t have left home for him. You warned me. He ruined me. Please… please take me back.”

My voice fell apart into something between laughter and despair.

“And if you can’t save me… maybe just end it for me instead.”

My brother’s voice exploded through the phone, raw with alarm.

“Eleanor, stop scaring me. What are you saying? What happened? Is this about Nathaniel again? If you’re destroying yourself over that jerk, then you’ve completely lost it. He’s gone—and even if he weren’t, he never deserved you.”

“He isn’t gone,” I said quietly, the words shaking with anger and heartbreak.

There was a long silence on the other end. I could almost hear him holding his breath.

“What do you mean, he isn’t?”

“I mean exactly that,” I replied. “Nathaniel is still alive. He staged his own death, Adrian.”

His tone shifted instantly, sharp with urgency. “Do you want me there right now? I’ll get you out of that house. You can start over, Vic. You don’t need him. I’ll help you find your son—”

My throat burned. “So you already knew what kind of hell I was living in?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “We stopped talking after your wedding, but I never stopped watching out for you. I’ve always had people keeping an eye on things.”

My eyes filled again. “Then don’t just watch anymore,” I said. “Help me disappear. Help me make him feel what I felt when he erased himself from my life.”

For a few seconds, there was nothing but his breathing. Then his voice came back, firm and steady.

“Give me seven days. I’ll set it up. You won’t have to do this alone.”

I let the phone fall from my fingers. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I stayed exactly where I was, staring at the ceiling until dawn broke, replaying everything—every lie, every memory.

Sleep never came.

A knock sounded at my door. Before I could answer, the handle turned and he walked in, wearing that careful, concerned expression.

“Eleanor,” he murmured, “I’m sorry about yesterday. Things shouldn’t have spiraled like that.” He paused, then added gently, “I’ll take you to the police today. We’ll see if there’s any news about your baby. After that, we’ll go to the hospital and make sure you’re okay.”

I didn’t respond. I just looked at him, trying to recognize the man I once loved.

I was about to stand when Delilah’s voice drifted from the hallway.

“Harold, sweetheart,” she called weakly, “I feel dizzy. I need you.”

Then I heard it.

A baby crying.

Not just any cry, but the thin, frantic sound of an infant who needed to be held.

Nathaniel turned instantly, already moving toward the door. He didn’t spare me another glance.

My chest tightened until I thought I might pass out. He ran to her. To her baby.

And my own child was still missing.

My fingers dug into the mattress as my mind slipped back to the day I first met him—how he stood in the park glowing in the late summer sun, how I’d liked him first, how I’d told Delilah everything, believing she would be happy for me. She’d smiled back then, teased me, played the part of a loyal friend.

I never expected to later see them together—laughing, holding hands. I never confronted either of them. I convinced myself I was being mature. That love was complicated.

Then Delilah left town, and I stayed behind, building a life with the man she abandoned.

Now she was back. And she had his child.

I pressed my hand over my stomach, remembering how he used to lie beside me at night, whispering promises to the unborn baby.

“I’ll never miss a single milestone. First word, first step, first day of school. I’ll teach him to ride a bike—maybe even how to fly. He’ll always know I’m here.”

Every word had been a lie.

I slipped out of the house without saying anything. At the police station, I asked—again—if there was any news about my missing son.

The officer only shook his head. “Nothing new, Mrs. Carrington. At this point…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but I understood it perfectly.

I went back in a daze.

And then I saw it.

A crib in the living room.

Inside it lay a baby boy, fists curled, tiny sounds drifting from his lips. My heart nearly burst out of my chest. He had my son’s hair, my son’s dimple.

I stepped closer, shaking. Just one touch—

“HELP! Somebody help!” Delilah shrieked suddenly. “She’s trying to hurt the baby!”

“I’m not trying to hurt him!” I yelled, my throat raw, hands lifted in surrender while Delilah shrieked like I was some kind of threat.

“She’s lying!” Delilah sobbed, throwing herself over the crib as though I were about to attack. “She reached for him—she’s completely unstable!”

“I only wanted to—”

“Enough!” my mother-in-law snapped, slicing through my words. “I’m done with your performances, Eleanor. You’ve been acting deranged ever since my son passed away.”

Deranged. That was what she called the panic of a mother who saw a child that looked exactly like the baby stolen from her arms.

“I told you I wouldn’t hurt him—”

“Take her downstairs,” Lucinda ordered, her voice glacial as she turned to the staff. “Lock her in the basement.”

The words didn’t register at first. “What did you just say?”

Nathaniel—still hiding behind Harold’s name—hesitated only briefly. I searched his face for the man who once protected me, the one who promised never to let anyone hurt me.

Instead, he murmured, “It’s better this way. She needs to cool off.”

Something inside my chest collapsed.

Two employees seized my arms. I fought, twisting wildly, my screams echoing down the hall. “Please! I didn’t do anything! You can’t do this!” But I was nothing to them. Just another problem to be removed.

The door slammed shut behind me, plunging me into darkness.

The basement reeked of rot and damp stone. My feet slid over gritty concrete, then over something soft that scurried away. The sound of insects skittering made my skin crawl. Somewhere close, a rat shrieked.

I pressed my back against the wall, hugging myself, shaking so hard my teeth rattled.

Then pain exploded in my ankle.

I looked down just in time to glimpse a thick coil sliding away into the shadows.

I don’t remember falling. Only screaming.

When I opened my eyes again, the world smelled of disinfectant. A nurse hovered over me, her voice calm.

“You’re fortunate,” she said. “It was a venomous bite. If you’d arrived any later, it could’ve been fatal.”

My lips were dry as sand. “How did I get here?”

“The butler called emergency services,” she replied. “But you need to rest.”

Rest. After being tossed into a basement like garbage.

I scanned the room for any familiar face, but she answered my question before I could ask.

“No one has visited you.”

By the time I was released, my body was weak but my resolve was solid. I would never go back to that house and bow my head again.

At the gate, the butler was waiting.

“They’re all attending an auction tonight, ma’am,” he said stiffly.

“Auction?”

“Yes. Miss Delilah is hosting a charity event.”

Charity. I nearly laughed out loud.

The hall buzzed with perfume, gossip, and money. Crystal chandeliers shimmered above crowds wrapped in silk and diamonds. Onstage, Delilah stood radiant in red, smiling into a microphone as one of her paintings was wheeled out.

“This is my most meaningful work,” she said sweetly. “I hope someone here will treasure it.”

Bids flew. Numbers soared. She basked in admiration.

But I was done letting her have the spotlight.

I walked forward, heels striking the marble, and took the microphone from the startled auctioneer.

“I’d like to contribute an additional item,” I announced. “A Carrington family heirloom.”

The room rippled with whispers.

I slid my wedding ring free. “This was given to me by Nathaniel Carrington. Its value is beyond measure—but tonight, its price will be higher than money.” I met their eyes steadily. “Whoever purchases this ring… will become my future husband.”

The silence was deafening.

Across the room, Nathaniel’s face drained of color.

The ring vanished to the highest bidder, and with it went the last thread tying me to that man.

Nathaniel cornered me moments later. “Are you insane? That ring represented everything my brother gave you! Do you have any idea what you just threw away?”

“Why does it matter to you?” I asked coolly. “You’re not him.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m his family—”

“Your brother is gone,” I said. “And I’ve buried the woman who loved him.”

I walked away.

Delilah followed me outside, ripping my hair back in fury. “You selfish witch! You stole my night!”

I tore her hand free and laughed, hollow and bitter.

“Enjoy the spotlight, Delilah. I won’t be here to compete with you anymore.”