Chapter 1

My husband, Manuel Osborne, had been working overseas for half a year, and every single night, we'd video call each other late into the night.

One night, as I was tucking my seven-year-old son, Luka, into bed, he whispered, "Mommy, Grandma said Daddy's been hiding in the closet for days."

My heart skipped a beat, but I just brushed it off as kids' wild imaginations.

Then Luka added, "Grandma also said Daddy could come out in seven days."

I was completely stunned.

*****

The only light in the children's room was a dim, yellow bedside lamp, its warm glow wrapping around Luka.

He was almost asleep, his long lashes casting tiny shadows beneath his eyelids, his breathing even and deep.

I leaned down, ready to press a goodnight kiss to his forehead.

But suddenly, his eyes opened just a sliver, and his small hand gripped the edge of my shirt.

His voice was muffled, thick with sleep. "Mommy, Grandma said Daddy's been hiding in the closet for days."

My body went rigid.

It felt like an invisible hand clenched my heart, and for a moment, I couldn't even breathe.

I wondered if I'd misheard him, or maybe it was just a child's sleepy rambling.

I asked softly, "Luka, what did you say?"

He managed to open his eyes wider and repeated himself, this time crystal clear.

He told me, "Grandma said Daddy's in the big closet at home, and she told me not to open it."

My blood started to run cold, bit by bit.

He went on, "Grandma also said Daddy could come out in seven days."

My whole body froze. My mind went totally blank, and all I could hear was a buzzing in my ears.

Seven days was a definite, spine-tingling countdown.

I forced a smile, but my palms were already slick with cold sweat.

I reached out and stroked his hair, my voice shaky no matter how hard I tried to steady it. "Luka, honey, Daddy's working overseas.

"How could he be hiding in the closet? Grandma was just joking around."

Luka blinked, looking confused, as if he thought it was weird, too.

But he stuck to his story. "Grandma said so. She told me to keep it a secret and not tell you."

With that, he rolled over and was soon fast asleep.

I felt frozen, like I'd been nailed to the floor, my whole body locked up, unable to move.

Cold sweat slid down my spine, drenching my pajamas and clinging to my skin.

I designed the huge walk-in closet in our master bedroom when we got married.

Manuel, my husband, was an IT engineer. Six months ago, his company sent him to Alakapo for a year-long project.

For the past six months, he'd video call me every night, telling me about his life abroad and always checking in on Luka and me.

He was gentle, thoughtful, and always full of sunshine. He was the best husband I could ever ask for, and Luka adored him.

I wondered how Manuel could be hiding in the closet.

I stepped out of Luka's room, my heart pounding so hard that it felt like it might burst out of my chest.

In the living room, Manuel's mother, Lilian Osborne, was sprawled out on the couch, munching on snacks and watching some over-the-top family drama.

The TV's flickering light kept flashing across her face, making her usually friendly features look strangely unsettling.

When she saw me come out, her eyes quickly avoided mine, and she paused, the snacks still pinched between her fingers.

"Is Luka asleep?" she asked, her voice just a little too unnatural.

I locked my gaze on her, searching those murky eyes for any hint of truth.

I stepped right up to her, doing my best to keep my voice calm. "Lilian, Luka just told me something odd. He said you told him Manuel's hiding in the closet."

The remote dropped from her hand and hit the floor with a thud.

Lilian's expression twisted with anger and shame, as if her secret had just been exposed.

She shot up from the couch, her voice shrill as she snapped at me, "Serena, what are you trying to say? You actually believe a kid's nonsense?

"Manuel's fine overseas. He video-calls you every single day, doesn't he? Are you hoping something bad happens to him? What's your motive?"

Her reaction was so over the top that it was downright unnatural.

She looked just like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, her whole body bristling with alarm.

This was nothing like how a normal mother-in-law would act if she'd been misunderstood. It was clear that she was hiding something.

Her yelling left me frozen, and a surge of unfairness and anger flooded my chest.

She was the one acting suspicious, but she was flipping the script and making me out to be the bad guy.

"I didn't... I was just asking..." My defense came out so feeble that I felt totally powerless.