Althea Hughes stood in front of the massive marble island in the kitchen of the Manhattan penthouse. She pulled the pot of hot butter soup off the stove. The rich smell of melting butter filled the warm air. Her heart beat fast against her ribs.

She reached into the pocket of her apron. Her fingers touched the hard plastic of the pregnancy test. Two red lines. She traced the plastic edge with her thumb. She took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing pulse.

She looked at the custom clock on the wall. It was exactly seven in the evening. Darren Young had promised to be home on time tonight. It was their wedding anniversary.

The electronic lock on the front door beeped loudly.

Althea's eyes lit up. She quickly untied her apron and threw it on the counter. She walked fast out of the kitchen and hurried down the long hallway toward the entrance.

She stopped just before turning the corner. She heard the chaotic sound of footsteps and the loud laughter of children.

She froze. She saw Darren walking in. He was tall, wearing his expensive dark suit. But he was not alone. He was helping a woman take off her expensive trench coat.

The woman was Caroline Hebert. Caroline turned her head and gave Darren a shy, dependent smile.

Darren stepped fully inside, and right behind him followed two five-year-old twin boys, Arthur and Asher. Caroline hovered near them, gently brushing the rain off the boys' shoulders with a tender, practiced motion, as if she were their true mother. They wore muddy shoes. They stepped directly onto the pure white Persian rug Althea had just bought yesterday. Dark mud stained the white wool.

Althea felt her stomach drop heavily. The fingers gripping the pregnancy test in her pocket turned stiff and white.

Caroline looked up and saw Althea standing in the hallway. A quick flash of provocation appeared in Caroline's eyes. But a second later, Caroline put on a fake, apologetic face.

"Althea, I'm so sorry," Caroline said, her voice weak and trembling. "The pipes in my apartment burst. Darren was worried the boys would catch a cold, so he kindly brought us here for the night."

Darren hung Caroline's coat on the rack. He did not even look at Althea. His jaw was tight.

"Go get some dry towels," Darren ordered coldly.

One of the twins, Asher, ran forward. He intentionally bumped hard into Althea's leg. Then he hid behind Caroline and stuck his tongue out at Althea.

Althea felt a sharp ache in her chest. She kept her mouth shut. She turned around and walked to the storage room. She pulled out three clean guest towels. Her hands shook slightly.

When Althea returned to the dining room with the towels, Caroline was already sitting in the chair next to the head of the table. That was Althea's designated seat.

Darren stood next to the other twin, Arthur. He was patiently cutting the steak on Arthur's plate. His movements were smooth, as if they were the real family.

Althea walked over and placed the towels on the edge of the table. She forced her voice to stay steady.

"Darren. Today is our wedding anniversary."

Darren stopped cutting the steak for a second. He frowned. He looked annoyed.

"Caroline saved Asher's life," Darren said, his voice hard. "She is in trouble now. You shouldn't be petty about small things."

Caroline's eyes immediately turned red. She stood up and grabbed Darren's sleeve.

"Darren, it's okay," Caroline choked out, wiping a fake tear. "I'll take the boys to a hotel. I don't want to ruin your relationship."

Darren immediately grabbed Caroline's wrist and pushed her gently back into the chair. He glared at Althea.

"If you can't even show basic tolerance, go back to your room," Darren said strictly.

Althea stood frozen. She watched her husband protect another woman. A violent cramp twisted her stomach.

The rich smell of the butter soup suddenly hit her nose. It made her throat close up. Althea covered her mouth. She turned and ran to the open kitchen sink.

She leaned over the cold metal sink and dry-heaved. Tears leaked from her eyes because of the physical sickness.

Darren slammed his knife and fork down on the table. The loud clatter of metal against porcelain echoed in the room.

"Stop using this childish fake sickness to get sympathy!" Darren yelled coldly.

Caroline patted Darren's back gently to calm him down. But from an angle Darren couldn't see, Caroline smirked at Althea.

Althea turned on the faucet. She splashed freezing water on her face. The icy water woke her up. The two-year illusion of this marriage shattered completely.

She turned off the water. She grabbed a paper towel and dried her hands. She reached into her apron pocket again. She did not pull out the pregnancy test. She pulled out the folded papers she had printed yesterday.

Althea walked back to the dining table with heavy, firm steps. She slammed the papers hard onto the table right in front of Darren.

Darren looked shocked. Caroline stared with wide eyes.

Althea looked at Darren with dead, cold eyes.

"Let's get a divorce," Althea said flatly. "Sign it tomorrow."

Althea did not look back at Darren. She ignored his angry shouts behind her. She walked straight into the master bedroom.

She pulled a travel bag from the closet. She threw a few simple clothes into it. She took the plastic pregnancy test from her pocket. She gripped the pregnancy test tightly with her cold fingers, her knuckles turning white. Ultimately, her cautious nature took over; she didn't throw it away into the trash where prying eyes could find it. Instead, she tucked the plastic wand safely back into the deepest pocket of her bag, ensuring her secret remained hidden. She zipped up the bag and walked out of the cold penthouse forever.

Three years later.

A massive rainstorm battered the remote land of Montana. The Rainbridge Trailer Park was flooded with muddy water.

Althea sat by the window of her small, simple trailer. She watched the heavy rain wash against the glass.

Two-year-old Chloe Hughes was curled up on the small bed nearby. She hugged an old teddy bear. She was sleeping soundly.

Althea stood up and walked to the bed. She gently pulled the knitted blanket over her daughter's shoulders. Her eyes were full of firm, motherly love.

Suddenly, the loud roar of a heavy engine cut through the noise of the rain. Two blinding headlights pierced the dark night. The lights aimed directly at the trailer park.

A huge, black, bulletproof SUV drove through a deep mud puddle. It struggled and finally stopped right in front of Althea's trailer.

The SUV's engine made a loud, grinding noise. Then it died completely. The headlights flickered twice and went dark.

Althea frowned. Her body tensed. She turned to the kitchen counter and grabbed a heavy metal flashlight. She held it tight as a weapon.

The driver's door of the SUV was pushed open violently. A large man in a black raincoat jumped out. He splashed through the mud and ran up to the wooden porch.

Loud, urgent knocks hit the thin wooden door. The sound was terrifying in the stormy night.

Althea walked quietly to the door. She looked through the peephole. The rain blurred the view outside.

The large man wiped the rain from his face. He yelled loudly.

"Is anyone there? We need emergency medical help!"

Althea recognized that voice instantly. It was Rick Sullivan, Darren's personal bodyguard. Her heart started to hammer violently against her ribs. Her breathing stopped.

She gripped the flashlight tighter. She took a deep breath to push down her panic. She spoke coldly through the closed door.

"What do you need?"

Rick yelled back, his voice desperate. "There is a sick child in the car! He has a high fever! The road is destroyed by a mudslide! We need children's fever medicine!"

Hearing that a child was sick, Althea's motherly instinct took over. She hesitated for two seconds. Then she unlocked the deadbolt with a loud click.

She opened the door just a crack.

At that exact moment, the back door of the SUV opened. A tall, broad figure stepped out into the pouring rain, holding a black umbrella.

The man walked up the steps of the porch with long legs. He lifted the umbrella slightly. The dim porch light hit his face. It was the same cold, sculptured face Althea had not seen for three years.

Darren Young stood there. The bottom of his expensive custom suit was covered in mud. He looked messy and tired.

Althea's lungs stopped working. Her fingers gripped the edge of the door so hard her knuckles turned white. She stared dead at the man.

Darren's eyes fell on the woman opening the door. His pupils shrank rapidly. His anxious expression froze completely.

He could not believe his eyes. The ex-wife who had disappeared for three years, the woman he had searched all of New York for, was hiding in this broken-down trailer park.

Darren's throat moved. His voice was hoarse from shock and complex emotions. He forced out one word.

"Althea?"

The shock on Althea's face vanished instantly. A mask of pure ice replaced it. She pulled the door closer, making the crack smaller.

She turned and walked quickly to the medical box on the shelf. She dug out an unopened bottle of children's liquid ibuprofen.

She walked back to the door. She shoved the bottle through the narrow crack into Rick's hand. Her movements were sharp and completely emotionless.

Darren stepped forward. He reached out his hand to stop the door from closing. He wanted to ask her a thousand questions.

Althea did not hesitate. She slammed the door shut with all her strength.

A loud bang echoed as the door hit the frame, locking Darren outside in the storm. Althea quickly pushed the heavy metal deadbolt into place.

Althea leaned her back against the cold wooden door. She listened to the howling wind and rain outside. Her chest heaved up and down. She tried to calm her rapid breathing.

Outside, Darren let out a low growl of anger. He pounded his fist against the door.

"Althea! Open the door!" Darren ordered loudly.

Althea ignored him. She walked quickly to the window. She pulled the heavy blackout curtains tightly shut. She made sure not a single ray of light could be seen from the outside.

Rick's voice came from the porch. "Boss, the heating system in the car is completely dead. The kids will freeze if we stay out here."

Darren clenched his jaw. He took a step back. He braced his broad frame and slammed his shoulder hard against the old wooden door. The heavy thuds of impact echoed over the storm, each strike heavier and more desperate than the last. Finally, the fragile, rotting doorframe could no longer withstand the sheer force of his repeated blows. The door burst open, tearing the metal deadbolt completely out of the splintering wood.

Freezing wind and rain rushed into the small living room. Althea turned around in shock and anger. She grabbed a fruit knife from the table and pointed it at the doorway.

Darren stood in the storm. His eyes were dark and dangerous. He completely ignored the knife in her hand. He stepped sideways to let Rick enter first. Rick was carrying a boy wrapped tightly in a blanket.

Rick placed the boy on the old sofa. It was Asher. His face was bright red from the fever. Rick quickly opened the medicine Althea had given them and fed it to the boy.

The other twin, Arthur, walked in behind them. He held tightly to Darren's wet coat. He was shivering from the cold. He looked around the small room with curious eyes.

Althea saw the sick child. Her hand holding the knife trembled. She slowly lowered her arm and threw the knife back onto the table.

Darren took off his soaking wet suit jacket and threw it on the floor. He pushed the broken door shut. He grabbed a heavy wooden chair and jammed it under the door handle to block the wind.

He turned around. His sharp eyes locked onto Althea.

"Is this the freedom you wanted?" Darren mocked coldly. "Living in this dump?"

Althea stared back with ice in her eyes. "It is none of your business. When the rain stops, get out of my house."

Suddenly, a soft mumble came from the back room.

Chloe rubbed her sleepy eyes. She walked out in her bare feet, wearing a pink nightgown and hugging her teddy bear.

"Mommy?" Chloe called out in her sweet, baby voice.

The word exploded in the quiet living room like a bomb.

Darren snapped his head toward the sound. His eyes nailed themselves to the little girl in the pink dress. Every muscle in his body turned to stone.

Althea's heart hammered wildly. She rushed forward and scooped Chloe into her arms. She used her own body to block Darren's piercing stare.

Arthur noticed the little girl. He pulled on Darren's pants.

"Dad," Arthur whispered. "That little sister's eyes... they look exactly like hers." He pointed a small, trembling finger subtly toward Althea.

Darren felt a heavy hammer hit his chest. He narrowed his eyes. He tried to see the face of the girl in Althea's arms clearly.

Chloe peeked over Althea's shoulder. She was not scared. She stared at the tall man with her big, clear eyes.

Darren saw it immediately. The shape of her eyebrows. The slight upward curve of the corners of her eyes. It was a miniature, perfect replica of Althea. An absurd, unbelievable thought exploded in his mind like a detonated bomb.

He took a step forward. He could not believe it. His voice shook.

"Whose child is this?" Darren demanded.

Althea forced herself to stay calm. She lifted her chin. She looked straight into his dangerous eyes.

"She is my husband's daughter," Althea lied coldly.

Darren felt like his chest was stuffed with broken glass. Breathing suddenly hurt. He gritted his teeth.

"Your husband?" Darren repeated, his voice dripping with venom.

On the sofa, Asher started to sweat as the medicine worked. He groaned uncomfortably, breaking the thick tension in the room.

Rick quickly went to the kitchen sink to get warm water to wipe Asher's forehead.

Chloe wiggled out of Althea's arms. She walked on her short legs toward the sofa. She looked curiously at the sick boy.

Darren's eyes followed Chloe's every single movement. His brain was spinning fast, calculating the timeline.

Althea walked over quickly and picked Chloe up again. She glared at Darren.

"Control your people," Althea warned sharply. "Do not come near my daughter."