Chapter 3

His feed was crammed with endless photos of their family of three—Jonathan, Lucy, and Henry—capturing every moment of their life together.

There were shots of Jonathan holding Henry for the first time, changing his diaper, mixing formula, and making baby food for him.

There were also photos of him celebrating Lucy's birthday, taking her shopping, and even massaging her feet.

I felt like a thief, secretly spying on the blissful daily routine of their little family.

Jonathan and I had been together for twelve years. I was always the one taking pictures, recording our memories, and sharing our milestones.

Whenever I asked him to post something on Instagram, he would say, "Our life is private. I don't need the world to see how much I love you."

And yet here he was—posting one update after another, like a running diary. A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

I kept scrolling, almost masochistically, reading post after post that had nothing to do with me. Then I picked up my phone and searched for Lucy's Threads account. As expected, every single post of hers matched his—same scenes, same days, two sides of the same story.

The betrayal was brutal. My heart twisted so hard it almost went numb.

I leaned against the headboard and sat there until dawn.

Jonathan woke up before seven. When he saw me sitting upright, he smiled gently, his eyes warm with concern. "Honey, why are you up so early? I must've been exhausted last night. I knocked out the second my head hit the pillow. Honey, I'll go make you breakfast."

I listened in a daze and nodded stiffly. I didn't even know what kind of expression I was supposed to wear anymore.

Jonathan got up, kissed my forehead, and went into the kitchen.

I pulled myself together and walked downstairs. Watching him busy moving around the stove, I felt a dull ache I couldn't put into words.

When had he learned to cook? It must've been after he moved to Harborville. I even used to joke that he'd secretly taken lessons there. His cooking had gotten better and better.

He brought the bowl of oatmeal over and set it in front of me. I reached out and caught his hand. "Sit down and eat with me. I need to talk to you."

He glanced at his phone as if he hadn't heard a word I said. "Honey, the Beimora office needs me at a meeting. You take your time." He grabbed his coat and walked out without looking back.

The breakfast was all my favorites, but it tasted bland and empty.

My thoughts spiraled out of control. Was he really going to a meeting? Or was he going to see Lucy and their son? Why did he lie to me again and again? They hadn't seen each other for one night—was that enough for him to miss them so badly?

The thoughts tangled together until my head felt like it might split open.

Just then, a reminder popped up on my calendar. It was time to go to my parents' place to check their blood pressure.

After I finished eating, I drove to their house. I was about to get out of the car when I spotted Henry walking up, holding Jonathan and Lucy's hands. My parents leaned down, smiling, and kissed Henry on the cheek.

It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck my skull. Everyone knew the truth. They had all conspired to deceive me. No wonder my parents agreed so easily to Lucy marrying far away and to her and her husband settling in Harborville.

My vision blurred. The ache in my chest spread, draining every last bit of strength from my body.

After I got lost years ago, my parents had adopted Lucy. When I finished middle school, they found me and brought me home. Afraid I would feel uncomfortable about Lucy's place in the family, they had even offered to send her away.

But Lucy always saw me as her real sister. Sending her back to the orphanage just felt too cruel.

For twelve years, it turned out I had been the odd one out.

I waited until the family of three disappeared inside before finally stepping out of the car, medical kit in hand.

The moment my parents saw me, their expressions stiffened. My mother spoke first. "Anna, did you run into anyone on your way here?"

I knew exactly what they were getting at, so I just shook my head. "No, I just came to check your and Dad's blood pressure."

They visibly relaxed at my words. Then they asked if I'd had breakfast.

I glanced at the food on the table. It was identical to what Jonathan had made for me that morning. The truth was, Jonathan never cooked the food I loved. I loved it because he made it.

I sat there quietly and waited for them to finish eating. They chatted back and forth about Christmas plans—what presents for Henry and how to celebrate Lucy's birthday. Not once did my name come up.

After checking their blood pressure and restocking their vitamins, I headed for the door. They suddenly called me back and handed me a box of nuts. "Studying medicine is exhausting. Nuts are good for all your organs. You should have more."

I forced a bitter smile, keeping my expression flat. "I'm allergic to nuts."