Chapter 3
By the time Ethan's car pulled into our suburban driveway at two in the morning, the house was completely still.
On the dining table sat a freshly steeped pot of chamomile tea and two clean porcelain cups.
I was seated in the high-backed armchair, wearing a soft cream cashmere sweater, my damp hair combed smooth and tied back.
The front door unlocked with a heavy metallic click.
Ethan stepped into the foyer, bringing the sharp chill of the midnight rain with him. His trench coat was soaked, his tie loosened, and his eyes darted around the hallway with the tense paranoia of a hunted man.
When he looked into the dining room and saw me sitting beneath the dim chandelier, he visibly jumped.
"Grace?" He stopped in his tracks, his voice strained. "Why aren't you upstairs in bed? You shouldn't have checked out of the hospital. You need rest."
"The hospital was too cold," I said evenly, pouring steaming tea into the empty cup across from me. "I wanted to be in my own home. Did you save her memorial bench from the storm?"
Ethan swallowed hard, unbuttoning his damp coat with restless fingers. "The winds were severe. I secured the structure. I... did what I had to do."
He walked over and sat down opposite me. His hands were shaking slightly as he reached for the warm cup. He cleared his throat twice, struggling to slip back into his familiar mask of patronizing affection.
"Grace," he began, leaning forward, his brow furrowed with rehearsed gravity. "Something extraordinary happened on my way back from the bluff."
I looked at him calmly over the rim of my cup. "What happened?"
"I found a woman wandering near the old highway exit. She was soaking wet, shivering, completely disoriented." He lowered his voice, loading it with gentle, sorrowful concern.
"She's deeply traumatized and has no memory of who she is or where she came from. But Grace... she looks almost identical to Chloe."
He paused, studying my face closely for any hint of suspicion.
"It felt like a sign from God," Ethan continued, reaching across the table to place his hand over mine.
"I couldn't just leave her at a county shelter. I want to bring her to our guest room tomorrow so she can recover in a safe environment. You're a good woman, Grace. You understand why we have to help her, right?"
I looked down at his hand. I felt the cold metal of his wedding ring against my skin.
The man who had left our lost baby behind in an emergency room was now asking me to open my home to The woman he had hidden in the cabin.
A quiet, pleasant smile formed on my lips.
"Of course," I said softly.
"Since she's lost her memory and has nowhere to go, I'll invite a few of our neighbors and the community outreach committee over tomorrow morning to meet her. Maybe someone will recognize her and help her find her past. Don't you think she'd be grateful?"