Chapter 2

Addison Anderson POV:

Ethan' s words-the ghost of a question about a name, a flicker of something almost human in his eyes-had ignited a spark of hope, quickly extinguished by the cold dread of what that hope might cost me again. My heart throbbed, a dull ache in my chest. Did he remember? Even a fragment? No. I couldn't allow it. Not now.

"What name?" I asked, my voice flat, carefully devoid of any emotion. "I'm not following you, Ethan."

His brow furrowed for a moment, a fleeting shadow of confusion. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. "Never mind," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Probably just a stray thought. You always did have a knack for getting inside my head." He chuckled, a cold, empty sound. The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease; he believed my lie. He wanted to believe it.

Kasey, never one to be out of the spotlight, tugged on his arm. "Ethan, darling, you promised to take me to that new exhibition. I' m utterly bored with all this... gallery maintenance." She yawned dramatically, her eyes darting to me with a smug look. "Some people just don't understand the finer things in life, do they?"

My stomach clenched. I felt a heavy weariness settle over me, a bone-deep exhaustion that went beyond physical pain. My head still throbbed from the impact, a dull ache that mirrored the emptiness in my chest.

A sudden commotion at the gallery entrance. Ethan' s parents, Gardner and Billie Pennington, swept in, an entourage of stiff-backed formality and disdain. Their eyes immediately found Kasey, a warmth I had never seen directed at me.

"Kasey, my dear!" Billie exclaimed, her voice shrill, embracing Kasey as if she were a long-lost daughter. "You look absolutely radiant. And Ethan, you naughty boy, leaving us to fend for ourselves with the press!"

Gardner, his gaze colder than ice, acknowledged me with a curt nod that felt more like a dismissal. "Addison. Still here, I see. One would think you'd have found a more suitable occupation by now. Something less... taxing on our family's reputation."

My cheeks burned. I was invisible to them, a ghost haunting their son's life, a stain on their pristine lineage. Their contempt was a constant, sharp prick. I had married into this family, had given them five years of my life, and still, I was nothing but an embarrassment.

"Oh, Kasey, darling," Billie cooed, pulling a heavy velvet box from her designer handbag. "Since you're practically family now, I thought you should have this. It's been in the Pennington family for generations. A symbol of our enduring legacy." She opened the box to reveal a magnificent diamond and emerald necklace, shimmering under the gallery lights.

My breath caught. It was the necklace. The one Ethan's grandmother had promised me on my wedding day. The one that was supposed to be passed down to the Pennington wife. My fingers, still trembling from Ethan's assault, tingled with a phantom touch of its weight.

Kasey gasped, a performance worthy of an Oscar. "Oh, Mrs. Pennington! It's utterly divine! I... I don't know what to say!" Her eyes, however, were fixed on me, a triumphant, venomous gleam.

I felt a cold shock, a visceral pain that cut deeper than any physical blow. The necklace was not just jewelry; it was a symbol of belonging, of acceptance. And now, it was hers. My face, still pale from the head injury, felt hot with shame.

"Don't be silly, dear," Billie said, clasping the necklace around Kasey' s neck, ignoring my presence entirely. "You deserve it. Unlike some, you truly understand the value of family." Her eyes flickered to me, a cold accusation. "You never did fit in, Addison. Always chasing your own selfish pursuits, neglecting Ethan, neglecting your duties as a wife."

Five years of their relentless criticism, their veiled insults, their outright hostility. They blamed me for Ethan's accident, for his memory loss, for his coldness. It was a constant barrage, chipping away at my soul.

Just then, Billie's phone rang. She answered, her voice saccharine sweet. "Oh, darling! Yes, we're at the gallery. It's simply dreadful. Addison has made such a mess." She held the phone slightly away, allowing a child's voice to screech through the receiver. "Auntie Addison is mean! She hurt Mommy's feelings! She's a big, ugly witch!"

Kasey giggled, leaning into Billie. "Oh, children say the darndest things," she purred, but her eyes, still fixed on me, were full of triumph.

Billie gave me a look of pure disgust. "See what you've done, Addison? You've poisoned the children against us." She then lowered her voice, but it was still audible. "Don't worry, sweetie, Mommy will deal with the witch. She won't bother us anymore."

She ended the call, her eyes blazing with self-righteous fury. "You are a disgrace, Addison. A blight on this family." She raised her hand, and before I could react, she slapped me hard across the face. The sharp sting of the blow was nothing compared to the burning shame.

My head snapped to the side, my cheek throbbing. I tasted blood. I stood there, unmoving, feeling nothing but a dull numbness spreading through me. I didn't fight back. I couldn't. What was the point?

Ethan, who had been watching the entire exchange, suddenly stepped forward, catching his mother's arm before she could strike me again. "Mother, that's enough," he said, his voice surprisingly firm. He looked at me, his eyes momentarily softening as they landed on the fresh bruise forming on my cheek, the slight trickle of blood from my lip. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face-concern? Or just annoyance at the disruption?

I seized the moment, pushing past them, fueled by a sudden, desperate urge to escape. "Excuse me," I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper, and dashed for the back exit. I needed to get away from their venom, their hatred, their suffocating presence.

As I burst through a service door, my phone buzzed again. This time, it was a confirmation from my lawyer. The papers are fully executed and filed. You are free.

A shaky sob escaped my lips, a mix of pain and profound relief. Free. The word echoed in my mind, a sweet melody after five years of discordant noise. My body felt light, untethered, even with the throbbing pain in my head and cheek.

I had to get out. Now. I mentally ran through my escape plan. A pre-arranged car waited two blocks away. A private jet on standby. A new life, far from this gilded cage.

Just as I reached the alley, a small, shrill voice pierced the air. "Auntie Addison!"

Ethan's twin children, Lily and Leo, darted out from behind a dumpster, their faces twisted with childish malice. They must have followed their grandmother.

"You're a bad lady!" Leo shrieked, his face red with manufactured anger. "Mommy says you're going to jail!"

Lily, clutching a brightly colored plastic water gun, pointed it at me. "Yeah! You're going to pay for what you did!"

My stomach plummeted. Not them. Not the children. "Lily, Leo, please," I pleaded, trying to sidestep them. "I need to go."

"No!" Leo yelled, blocking my path.

Lily, with a terrifying gleam in her eyes, squeezed the trigger of her water gun. A thin, clear stream of liquid shot out, hitting my exposed hands.

A searing, ice-cold fire erupted on my skin. A scream tore from my throat. My hands, my artist's hands, the tools of my trade, felt like they were dissolving. The pain was instantaneous, excruciating, a thousand tiny needles tearing through flesh and bone. I stumbled back, clutching my hands, my vision blurring with tears.

Lily and Leo shrieked with laughter, their innocent faces contorted into grotesque masks of glee. "She screamed! It worked! Mommy said it would!"

The world spun. My knees buckled. I crumpled to the ground, the raw, burning agony in my hands consuming everything. This wasn't water. This was acid. This was Kasey. This was her final, cruelest blow. My hands. My beautiful, skilled hands.

The children's laughter, high-pitched and evil, was the last sound I heard before the blackness swallowed me whole.