Chapter 2

I woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains, my body aching from the fall that should have killed me. The doctors had called it miraculous—surviving a cliff dive with only bruises and a mild concussion. What they didn't know was that something fundamental had changed inside me. Something impossible.

I pulled myself from bed, wincing at the pain that radiated across my back. The lodge's guest room felt like a prison now, knowing what Victoria had done. Knowing she had tried to kill me.

The smell of coffee and bacon drifted upstairs, signaling breakfast was ready. I steeled myself, knowing I would have to face both my would-be murderer and my oblivious husband. With each step down the stairs, I rehearsed how to act normal, how to survive until I could figure out what to do next.

"There she is," Christopher said as I entered the dining room, his tone carrying that familiar distance. No concern, no rush to my side after my 'accident.' Just acknowledgment of my presence.

Victoria sat across from him, a vision in a cream cashmere sweater, her honey-blonde hair pulled back in an elegant ponytail. "Isabella! How are you feeling this morning? We were so worried."

I forced a smile. "Better, thank you."

As I took my seat, reaching for the coffee pot, my eyes locked with Victoria's. Something shifted—like a radio suddenly tuning to a clear frequency.

*Get rid of her before she uncovers everything.*

I nearly dropped the pot. The voice was Victoria's, but her lips hadn't moved. It resonated in my mind with perfect clarity, dripping with malice that her concerned expression completely belied.

"Isabella?" Christopher's voice cut through my shock. "Are you alright?"

I blinked rapidly. "Yes, sorry. Just a little dizzy still."

Victoria reached across the table, her cool fingers brushing mine in a show of sympathy. "Perhaps you should rest more today. That fall was terrifying."

*If the fall had done its job, I wouldn't need to worry about you anymore.*

Again, her voice in my head, while her face showed nothing but compassion. My heart hammered against my ribs. This was impossible. I was hearing her thoughts—her true, unfiltered intentions.

"I—I think I need some air," I stammered, pushing back from the table.

Victoria's eyes narrowed slightly. "Let me come with you. You shouldn't be alone after a head injury."

"No!" I said too quickly, then softened my tone. "I mean, I'll just step onto the porch. I'll be fine."

As I turned to leave, Victoria's voice called out, this time aloud, trembling with perfectly feigned distress. "Christopher, I'm worried about her. She's looking at me so strangely."

I froze in the doorway, turning back to see Victoria's eyes suddenly brimming with tears, her hand clutching at her chest in apparent distress.

"What did I do wrong?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "I've only tried to help."

Christopher was at her side instantly, his arm around her shoulders. The contrast between his cold distance with me and his protective stance with her was like a physical blow.

"Isabella," he said, his voice hardening as he looked at me. "Victoria has been nothing but kind. What's gotten into you?"

*She's always been jealous of me. This is perfect.*

I stood there, caught between the truth in my head and the lie playing out before me. "I didn't say anything, Christopher. I just need some air."

"You didn't have to say it. It's written all over your face," he snapped. "I know you've always had some issue with Victoria, but after everything that's happened, I'd expect you to show a little gratitude. She's the one who called for help when you fell."

When she pushed me, I wanted to scream. But the words died in my throat. Who would believe me? Certainly not the man who was now comforting my would-be killer while glaring at me like I was the villain.

"I'm sorry," I said mechanically, the words hollow. "You're right. Thank you, Victoria."

I retreated to my room, locking the door behind me. Leaning against it, I slid to the floor, my mind reeling with the implications of what I'd discovered. Victoria had tried to kill me. And now, somehow, I could hear her thoughts—her true, murderous intentions.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the strange new awareness in my mind. If this was real, if I could truly hear her thoughts, then maybe I could finally understand what had been happening in my marriage for the past five years.

Downstairs, I heard Victoria's voice, soft and concerned. Concentrating hard, I reached out with this new sense, straining to hear beyond the spoken words.

*Tonight at dinner, I'll make her look completely unstable. Christopher will never believe a word she says.*

My eyes snapped open. She was plotting, right now, to destroy what little credibility I had left with my husband. And I was the only one who knew the truth.