Chapter 1

After I married Charles Bennett, the thing I got best at was catching him in a lie.

When that woman used the card on his account, I shut it off the same day. When he bought her an apartment with money that was half mine, I had my lawyer freeze the transfer.

Every time I chased Charles down over an affair, my sister, Emily Foster, was right there with me, digging up evidence and running to lawyers.

When Charles started pushing me to divorce, she stood up for me in front of the whole family. "Sophia, if he tries to bully you, he goes through me first."

And I refused to give in.

Then that woman sent over a video she had taken in secret and threatened to release dirt that would destroy the career Emily had barely started.

Emily cried and tried to stop me. "Sophia, don't back down for my sake. I can find another job. I can't watch you throw away your marriage."

But Charles gave me one option. If I signed the divorce papers, the video would disappear.

My parents begged me, and my brother pushed too. "Emily only got herself into this helping you. Can you really stand there and watch her get ruined?"

In the end, I agreed.

When I went back to the house for our marriage license, the computer in my father's study lit up. The family group chat was still open on the screen.

Charles: [Did she agree to sign tomorrow?]

My brother, William Foster, sent: [She agreed. Anything that touches Emily, she'll give up.]

My mother, Carol Foster, added: [Good. Don't let her find out yet that the one you actually want to marry is Emily.]

*****

I read that line three times.

Downstairs, Emily was calling for me. "Sophia, I saved you half the carrot cake."

I took a picture of the investigator's report and recorded the messages on the screen before I went down.

Emily had already cut me a slice. When she saw my face, she moved the ice water out of my reach.

She said, "Is your stomach acting up again? Eat a couple of bites. Don't fight with Charles until you skip another meal."

For three years, every time I caught Charles with Rachel Lane, who everybody took for his mistress, Emily was with me.

She staked out hotels with me, went to lawyers with me, and sat in parking garages with me until dawn.

She always said, "Sophia, if I were you, I would have dumped a man like that years ago."

It turned out she wasn't outraged for me.

She was waiting for me to clear out of the way.

I sat down. "Emily, how long has Charles been in love with you?"

The fork fell out of her hand.

Carol reacted first. "Sophia, you're home five minutes and you're already making a scene."

I pushed my phone into the middle of the table. Those lines from the family group chat were still lit up.

My father, Howard Foster, frowned, and William looked away from me.

Emily's eyes went red, and she reached for my hand. "Sophia, let me explain."

I said, "Answer me first. Three years? Five? Or before I ever married him?"

Nobody said a word.

The front door opened, and Charles walked in.

He came in, saw my phone, stopped for one second, then swapped the ice water at my elbow for a warm glass, the way he always did. "You're that pale and you're drinking ice water? You trying to give yourself an ulcer?"

That was what he did after every fight. He put the knife in first and handed me a stomach pill second, as if remembering what I liked meant he hadn't really hurt me.

I stared at him. "Who is Rachel?"

He answered without hesitating. "Somebody I hired."

"The hotels, the apartment, the jewelry. All of it staged for me?"

"Yes."

"And the video you used to threaten Emily?"

"Arranged too."

My nails dug into my palms. "Why?"

Charles looked at me. "You're too good at digging. If I didn't give you one person to watch, you'd have gotten to Emily sooner or later."

The room went horribly quiet, and he kept talking.

"Rachel took the money and did the job. If her name gets ruined, she can leave. Emily is different. She's a daughter of this family, and she can't spend three years being called a homewrecker."

I staked out hotels, so everybody knew Rachel was the other woman.

I chased down jewelry, so everybody knew Charles was spending money on Rachel.

Over and over, I threw the evidence in front of all of them, and over and over, I proved that Emily and my husband were perfectly innocent.

I laughed out loud. "So I wasn't catching a cheater. I was building an alibi for the real one."

Emily's tears spilled over. "Sophia, I never wanted you humiliated like this."

"Then how humiliated did you want me? Exactly enough to wash you clean?"

Carol couldn't hold it in. "Don't talk like that. Emily still has to live in this world. Whatever happens between you and Charles is between a husband and a wife. Why drag her into it?"

I said, "So you found another woman to drag in, and you used my hands to keep Emily clean."

Her face locked up.

Charles put a hand on my shoulder, and there was something almost coaxing in his voice. "That's enough. Sign tomorrow, the video gets deleted, and this is finished.

"Rachel can't hold the line much longer. You've been digging too hard, and people out there are starting to guess at Emily.

"Once we're divorced, nobody looks at what happened inside the marriage. Rachel takes her money and goes, and Emily stays clean."

He pushed the warm water toward me again. "It's one piece of paper. Emily is safe, and you're still you."

I looked up at him. "Then what am I?"

Charles seemed honestly puzzled by the question. "You're still Mrs. Bennett. What difference does a certificate make? You're not going anywhere."

He said it so easily, as if a divorce decree could only shut out the gossip and never touch how much I loved him.

As if he could come home at night the way he always had, and I would still leave a light on, make him soup, and set out his stomach medicine on the nights he came home from drinking.

He was certain I loved him past all reason.

So our marriage could be spent cleaning up Emily's name, and I would stay right where I was.

Charles nudged the glass a little closer. "Drink something. You throw up when you get angry on an empty stomach. Did you forget?"

I looked down at the glass. "Charles, do you think remembering that my stomach is bad keeps you from being a complete bastard?"

His fingers stopped.

I pushed the glass away. "Nine thirty tomorrow, at the courthouse. The waiting period is over, so don't make me wait this time."