Chapter 1

My name was Rebecca Wolf. I was thirty-two, a stay-at-home mom, and I'd been married for seven years.

If you asked me what marriage felt like, I'd tell you it was like the frog in the pot. The temperature rose so slowly that you didn't even feel it. Then one day, you woke up and found you were already boiled.

And the day I realized I was "boiled" was an ordinary Wednesday afternoon.

It all started with something so tiny that I couldn't help but laugh at how absurd it was.

At three in the afternoon, I picked up my daughter, Daphne Wolf, from kindergarten and stopped by the supermarket on the way home.

At checkout, out of habit, I pulled out our family card.

"Sorry, ma'am, your card has insufficient funds," the cashier said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it was loud enough for everyone in line behind me to catch it.

I froze for a second.

This card is linked to my husband, David Wolf's, payroll account, and I was an authorized user. Every month, when his paycheck came in, I used it to buy groceries, pay the utilities, and pick up things for Daphne.

I'd checked it last month, and there should've been nearly 27,000 dollars in there.

"Can you try swiping it again?" I asked.

The cashier tried again and then shook her head. "The balance is eleven dollars."

Nearly 27,000 dollars, now eleven dollars.

I stood there at the checkout, my face burning with embarrassment.

Someone behind me started coughing impatiently.

I fumbled for my own card, paid, grabbed the shopping bags, and headed out of the supermarket. Then I plopped down on the steps outside.

Daphne tugged at my shirt. "Mommy, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing, sweetheart. Mommy needs a minute," I said.

I pulled out my phone and logged into the bank app.

Sure enough, more than 26,000 dollars had been transferred out of the account three days ago.

The name on the receiving account was unfamiliar to me.

Olivia Brooks.

Who was Olivia Brooks?

I dialed David.

First try. No answer.

Second try. Still nothing.

The third time, he finally picked up.

"What's up? I'm in a meeting," David said, his tone full of impatience.

"What happened to the money on the authorized card?" I tried to keep my voice steady. "Why is there only eleven dollars left on the card?"

There was a two-second silence on the other end.

"Oh, the company needs some money for a project, so I fronted the cash. I'll put it back in a few days," David said.

"Who did you transfer it to?" I asked.

"To finance. What's the issue?"

"Is the finance person's name Olivia Brooks?"

He went silent again.

This time, the pause lasted longer.

"Are you checking my account?" His tone suddenly shifted, that familiar, condescending edge slipping in.

I said, "I wasn't checking your account. The card got declined at the supermarket. How am I supposed to—"

"Enough, I'm in a meeting. We'll talk later." Then he hung up.

I stared at my phone screen, the call duration showing 47 seconds.

He got rid of me in forty-seven seconds.

Daphne sat beside me, happily nibbling on the bread rolls I got, her face covered in crumbs as she beamed up at me.

I took a deep breath and smiled at her, "Come on, sweetheart, let's go home."

On the way home, I couldn't stop thinking about that name.

Olivia Brooks.

Olivia Brooks.

I kept turning her name over and over in my mind, like chewing on flavorless gum.

I told myself maybe it really was someone from the finance department. Maybe I was overthinking it.

After all, we'd been married for seven years. David wasn't exactly husband of the year, but he'd never done anything really wrong.

At most, he worked too much, barely talked when he got home, and acted a little cold toward me.

But wasn't that how it went for most couples who'd been together forever?

That was how I tried to reassure myself.

I kept reassuring myself, but by eleven that night, David still hadn't come home.