Chapter 3 No.3

The limousine smelled of leather and stale mints.

They were in a motorcade of black SUVs, winding their way toward the National Cathedral. Elise was stuck in the middle seat, sandwiched between Joyce and Cristine.

Joyce was staring out the window, muttering talking points to herself. Cristine was fixing her hair in a compact mirror, her elbow digging into Elise's ribs every few seconds.

Cristine capped a bottle of water. Her hand slipped.

Cold water splashed over Elise's lap, soaking the black silk of her dress. It looked like a dark stain spreading across her thighs.

"Oops," Cristine said. She didn't look sorry. Her eyes gleamed with malice. "Clumsy me."

Joyce didn't even turn her head. "Cover it with your purse, Elise. Don't look sloppy."

Elise gritted her teeth. She took a napkin and dabbed at the water. She wouldn't let them see her cry. Not over water. Not over anything.

The car stopped. The doors opened.

The flashbulbs were blinding. It was a wall of white light. The noise was deafening-shouting reporters, clicking shutters.

Elise stepped out. She held her head high, clutching her purse over the stain. She walked up the cathedral steps, her heels clicking on the stone.

Inside, the air was cool and heavy with incense. The elite of D.C. were there. Senators, generals, lobbyists. A sea of black suits.

Elise stood by the closed casket. It was draped in a flag. She didn't know if Jarret was actually inside, or if it was empty. The explosion reports had been... graphic.

A Senator approached them. He was a silver-haired man with a face like a bulldog. He took Joyce's hands.

"A tragedy for the nation, Joyce," he said. He nodded vaguely in Elise's direction.

Cristine stepped forward, cutting Elise off. She placed a hand on the Senator's arm.

"It's so hard," she murmured, batting her eyelashes. She was acting like the grieving widow.

Elise felt a surge of anger. It started in her toes and shot up to her throat.

She stepped around Cristine. She extended her hand to the Senator.

"Senator," Elise said, her voice firm. "My husband spoke highly of you."

It was a lie. Jarret had called him an old fool. But the Senator didn't know that.

He looked surprised, then charmed. He took Elise's hand. "You are very brave, Mrs. Barrett."

Cristine glared at Elise. Her nostrils flared.

They sat in the front pew. The service began. The organ music vibrated in Elise's chest.

Halfway through the eulogy, Cristine leaned over. Her breath smelled of peppermint and gin.

"Did you even know him, really?" she whispered.

Elise kept her eyes on the altar. "Better than you."

Cristine let out a small, sharp breath. "I wouldn't bet on that."

The words sent a chill down Elise's spine. It felt too specific. Too knowing.

The service ended. They moved to the reception hall.

The room was hot. Too many bodies. Too much noise.

A wave of dizziness hit Elise. The floor seemed to tilt to the left. She grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself, a sudden queasiness rising in her throat.

She needed water. She needed air.

Elise retreated to a quiet corner, near a large potted fern. She sipped a glass of water, trying to stop the room from spinning.

She looked across the crowded room.

There was a man standing near the exit. He was wearing a dark suit. He was watching her.

Elise's heart stopped.

It was Jarret. The posture. The tilt of the head.

She blinked. She rubbed her eyes.

When she looked again, the space was empty. Just a waiter carrying a tray of champagne.

"It's just grief," Elise whispered to herself. "Hallucinations."

But her hands were shaking so bad the water sloshed in the glass.

She needed to leave. She needed to secure her future.

Elise pulled out her phone. She dialed her bank's automated line. She needed to check her personal savings, the money she had before the marriage.

Access Denied.

She tried again.

Account Frozen. Please contact the branch.

Panic, cold and sharp, pierced through the fog of grief. They had moved faster than she thought.

Elise spotted Nina across the room. Nina was holding a tray of appetizers, looking miserable.

Elise grabbed her arm as she passed.

"Go to the house," Elise whispered. "Get me a copy of the prenup from the safe. Now."

Nina looked at Elise's face. She saw the fear. She nodded once and disappeared into the crowd.

Elise stood there, surrounded by the most powerful people in the country, and realized she was completely broke. And completely trapped.