Chapter 2

For one frozen second, the world stopped.

That face...

It was no longer a blurred profile on a phone screen.

Now I saw her clearly.

Cold.

Proud.

Looking down at the world as though she had every right to judge it.

Without warning, an old photograph buried deep in my memory rose to the surface and aligned perfectly with the woman sitting before me.

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

My heart slammed against my ribs so violently that I nearly lost my balance.

How could it be her?

How could I not have recognized her?

She was the girl in the photograph my husband had kept locked away for twenty years.

The one hidden inside the metal box at the very back of his drawer.

The smiling young woman who had once been the unforgettable beauty of their generation.

My husband’s first love.

Never once had I imagined that her name would force its way back into my life like this.

My husband.

My son.

And the same woman casting her shadow over both of them.

The absurdity of it made my stomach churn.

Rage and disgust burned through me until my eyes stung.

I clenched my jaw and dug my nails into my palm so hard that I broke the skin.

They did not stay at the café for long.

A few minutes later, they stood and walked side by side into the five-star hotel next door.

They were close enough that their shoulders nearly touched.

Watching them disappear through the revolving doors, I almost ran after them.

But at the last second, I stopped.

Confronting them now would only give her time to prepare a lie.

I needed proof.

I wanted Owen to see for himself exactly what kind of woman he was protecting.

I raised my phone, aimed it at their backs, and pressed the shutter.

The flash was off.

Even so, the image frozen on the screen felt like a slap across my face.

That night, I sat alone in the dark living room and stared at the photograph again and again.

I still could not believe it.

My son had always been such a terrible liar that even his ears turned red.

Yet he had hidden this from me.

He had gone into a hotel with a woman more than twenty years older than him.

But once the anger settled, another fear took its place.

He was only eighteen.

What if she saw him as nothing more than a temporary amusement?

I did not confront my son.

I did not tell my husband, either.

Instead, I saved the photo in a separate folder and decided to find out what that woman really wanted.