Chapter 1
Series 1 Chapter 1
My sister had just won Best Screenwriter again.
As clips from her winning script played across the giant screen, my smile faltered.
One scene stopped me cold.
I had written it five years ago.
Not word for word.
But the characters, the turn, even the way one particular line landed—
I knew it.
At center stage, Chloe Vance stood beneath the lights in a silver-white gown, clutching her Golden Quill Award.
“Honestly, this award doesn’t belong to me alone.”
She looked toward the audience, her eyes shining.
“My sister has always been my greatest inspiration.”
“Without her, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”
The camera immediately cut to me.
Applause filled the ballroom.
The woman beside me leaned over with a smile.
“You two must be so close.”
I smiled back.
At least, that was what it looked like on the big screen.
I told myself it was probably a coincidence.
“Don’t move.”
A hand closed around my wrist.
I blinked.
I had only been reaching for my water.
Julian didn’t even look at me.
His phone was still raised, camera aimed at Chloe onstage.
“You’re blocking my shot.”
“This is the best angle.”
I glanced down at his hand.
A few seconds later, he let me go.
He had been recording Chloe for seven straight minutes.
When she smiled, he smiled.
When her eyes filled with tears, he immediately zoomed in.
Julian and I had been married for five years.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen him look at anyone with that much attention.
Certainly not me.
When the ceremony ended, Chloe came down from the stage with her award in her arms.
Julian stood almost immediately.
“I’m going over there.”
He didn’t wait for my answer.
Seconds later, he was beside her.
Chloe said something I couldn’t hear.
Julian slipped an arm around her.
The movement was so natural, it looked practiced.
She rested her forehead against his shoulder.
Only for a few seconds.
Then they pulled apart.
No one around us seemed to think anything of it.
A brother-in-law congratulating his wife’s younger sister.
Perfectly innocent.
I should have thought so too.
On the drive home, Julian was in an unusually good mood.
“Chloe did well tonight.”
I stared out the window.
“You’re still not coming to my appointment tomorrow?”
His hands stayed on the wheel.
“I have a meeting.”
Not even a second of hesitation.
I looked down at the slight curve of my stomach.
Thirteen weeks pregnant.
Tomorrow was supposed to be our first full prenatal appointment.
“Okay.”
I didn’t say anything else.
After we got home, Julian took a call.
“Something came up at work.”
“Go to bed without me.”
A few minutes later, he was gone again.
I showered and went into the study.
My laptop was still open to the document I had been working on the night before.
The Forgotten.
It was the first script I had seriously written in five years.
I had spent months on it.
Months of work.
Only the final scene was left.
I opened the file.
And froze.
Blank.
Every word was gone.
Nothing but an empty white page.
I immediately opened my cloud account and checked the activity log.
The most recent entry was from two minutes ago.
File: The Forgotten
Action: Downloaded
Device: JULIAN-CROSS-PC
Julian’s computer.
My hands went cold.
Then something buzzed beside me.
Julian’s spare phone lit up on the desk.
A sunflower profile picture.
Chloe.
Julian, this version is so much better than the last one.
Another message appeared almost immediately.
I already sent it to the director.
I stared at the screen.
Before I could process what I was seeing, a third message came through.
Same credit as before?
My breath caught.
Before?
What did she mean, before?
Every scene, every line, every story over the years that had felt strangely familiar rushed back at once.
Then I heard the front door open downstairs.
Julian was home.
I quickly put the phone back where I had found it.
A few minutes later, the study door opened.
Julian walked in and glanced at my laptop.
Nothing changed in his expression.
“You’re still awake?”
I didn’t answer.
His eyes moved to the blank document.
They paused there for a beat.
Then he asked,
“Did you finish the script?”
I looked at him.
At the man I had shared a bed with for five years.
For the first time, he felt like a stranger.
Julian walked over as if nothing were wrong.
His hand settled naturally over my stomach.
Gentle.
His voice was gentle too.
“Haven’t I told you not to stay up so late?”
He looked down at the small curve beneath my nightshirt and smiled.
“The baby matters more than a script.”
Then he kissed my forehead and disappeared into the bathroom.
A moment later, the shower started running.
I stayed where I was.
On the laptop in front of me was the empty file that had once been The Forgotten.
Beside it sat Julian’s phone.
I stared at it for a long time.
Then I reached for it again.
The screen lit up.
Chloe’s last message was still there.
Same credit as before?
I tapped the search bar.
Typed one word.
Before.
The results appeared.
Not one message.
Not two.
An entire page.
I stared at the screen.
And for the first time, I understood.
The script they had taken tonight—
might not have been the first.