Chapter 3

I waited until Ryan left for his weekly basketball game before making my move. The small camera I'd purchased online was barely larger than a button, perfect for what I needed. My hands were steady as I positioned it behind the monitor in our home office—angled just right to capture the keyboard and screen without being obvious.

This was the office Ryan and I supposedly shared, though lately it had become his domain, especially when Amanda came over to "work on projects." The memory of how blind I'd been in my previous life made my stomach clench. I'd actually brought them coffee and snacks while they plotted against me.

"Not this time," I whispered, testing the camera's feed on my phone. The image was crystal clear.

I heard Ryan's key in the front door sooner than expected. Quickly, I closed the camera app and pretended to be organizing papers when he walked in.

"Basketball got canceled," he said, barely looking at me. "Amanda's coming over to help me with the Northstar situation."

"Of course she is," I replied, keeping my voice neutral. "I'll be out of your way."

Ryan nodded absently, already texting—undoubtedly to Amanda. I gathered my things and retreated to our bedroom, my phone clutched in my hand like a lifeline.

---

Three days later, my patience was rewarded. I sat in my car in the grocery store parking lot, watching the footage live-stream to my phone. Ryan had gone to pick up takeout, leaving Amanda alone in our home office. The moment he left, her demeanor changed completely.

The sweet, helpless facade vanished as she moved with purpose to Ryan's laptop. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, entering passwords she shouldn't have known. I zoomed in, watching as she inserted a small USB drive and began copying files—the new security protocol documents Ryan had been working on after the Northstar disaster.

My heart pounded as I watched her encrypt the files before uploading them to an anonymous cloud storage. The entire process took less than five minutes. By the time she finished, her innocent mask was back in place, scrolling through social media as if she'd never moved.

I saved the footage to my secure cloud storage and added it to my growing collection of evidence. Soon, very soon, I would have enough.

---

"I'm transferring another $2,000 to my personal account for household expenses," I told Ryan over breakfast, keeping my tone casual.

He barely looked up from his phone. "Fine, whatever."

This was the third such transfer this month. Small enough not to raise suspicion, large enough to build my escape fund. After breakfast, I logged into our joint account and moved the money—but instead of my regular checking account, I sent it to a new brokerage account I'd opened under my maiden name.

Ryan never checked our finances. In my previous life, that had been a point of pride for me—handling everything so he could focus on his career. Now, it was my advantage. Over the past weeks, I'd moved nearly $30,000 this way, building a safety net he knew nothing about.

As I confirmed the transfer, I felt a strange mix of guilt and vindication. The old Sarah would have considered this betrayal. The new Sarah knew better—this wasn't betrayal; it was survival.

---

Saturday morning found me at Cornerstone Café, seeking refuge from the suffocating atmosphere of home. Ryan had been increasingly agitated as more clients pulled their contracts, and Amanda had practically moved into our house under the guise of "crisis management."

I was stirring my latte when a familiar voice broke through my thoughts.

"Sarah? Sarah Mitchell?"

I looked up to see Marcus Chen standing beside my table, coffee in hand, his smile warm and genuine. I hadn't seen him since college, but he looked the same—tall, confident, kind eyes behind stylish glasses.

"Marcus," I said, genuinely surprised. "It's been forever."

"Mind if I join you?"

I gestured to the empty chair across from me, and he sat down, setting his briefcase beside him.

"How have you been?" he asked, his eyes studying my face with unexpected intensity. "Really been?"

Something in his tone caught me off guard. It had been so long since anyone had asked me that question and actually seemed to care about the answer.

"I'm..." I started to give my automatic response—fine, great, busy—but stopped myself. "I'm surviving."

Marcus nodded slowly, as if he understood more than I was saying. "I heard through the alumni network that you're still in Chicago. I'm just here for a few days—my firm in LA is expanding, actually. Opening a branch here."

"That's wonderful," I said, meaning it. Marcus had always been brilliant, even in college.

He leaned forward slightly. "We're looking for talented people, Sarah. People like you."

I blinked, surprised. "Me?"

"I remember your work from Professor Harmon's advanced marketing class. You had insights nobody else did." His voice lowered. "If you're ever looking for a change... a fresh start... call me."

He slid a business card across the table. As our fingers briefly touched during the exchange, I felt something I hadn't experienced in years—possibility.

Behind Marcus, through the café window, I caught sight of Ryan's car pulling into the parking lot. Amanda was in the passenger seat, laughing at something he'd said.

I slipped Marcus's card into my pocket, my decision already made.