Chapter 7

Ellwood didn't ask questions. He didn't look at the condition of Beverley's clearly undrivable car or the lack of blood on Ryan's knee. He limped as quickly as his injured leg would allow straight to Kaleigh.

"Are you okay? Is he hurt?" He knelt down-a movement that cost him visible pain-and checked the boy over.

Kaleigh sniffled, burying her face in his shoulder. "I'm so scared, Ellwood. She just... she stepped on the gas. I thought she was going to kill him."

Ellwood struggled back to his feet, gripping his cane. He turned his head toward Beverley. His eyes were black with hatred.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he roared. "You could have killed him!"

Beverley held up her phone. "I didn't touch him. My car is wrecked-look at it. It won't even start. He threw himself on the ground. It's a setup."

"He's six years old!" Ellwood yelled, pointing a finger at her. "You think a six-year-old fakes getting hit by a car?"

"He does when his mother tells him to," Beverley shot back.

Ryan chose that moment to wail louder. "She hit me! Mommy, she hit me!"

"See?" Ellwood snarled. "You're delusional. First you burn Kaleigh, then you attack me, now you try to run over her son. You're a monster. And you still haven't told me where Aiden is."

Beverley felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. It wasn't worth it. Explaining the truth to a man who was blind by choice was a waste of breath.

"What do you want, Ellwood?" she asked, her voice flat. "Do you want to call the police? Go ahead. Let's check the security cameras."

That gave Kaleigh pause. She looked toward the camera in the corner of the garage. It was pointed the wrong way.

Kaleigh stood up, wiping her eyes. She put on her most sympathetic, sorrowful face. "Ellwood, please. Don't call the police. It's just... she's grieving. She lost Aiden. She's not in her right mind. I forgive her."

It was a masterclass in manipulation. In one breath, she played the saint and condemned Beverley as a crazy, dangerous woman.

Ellwood's face softened as he looked at Kaleigh. Then he turned back to Beverley, his jaw set.

"Apologize," he demanded. "Apologize to Kaleigh and Ryan. Right now."

Beverley stared at him. He was serious. He was standing in a dirty parking garage, defending a woman who had faked an injury, demanding an apology for a crime that hadn't been committed.

A laugh escaped Beverley's lips. It was a cold, hollow sound.

"Never," she said.

Ellwood took a limping step closer, his face inches from hers. "I am not playing games, Beverley. Apologize, or I will ruin your family. And tell me where my son is."

Before Beverley could respond, Kaleigh let out a gasp. She clutched her chest, her face going pale. She started to cough, a hacking, wet sound.

"Ellwood," she wheezed. "My heart... it hurts..."

Ellwood panicked. Despite his injured leg and burned arm, he managed to scoop Kaleigh up, holding her against his chest with visible strain. "I've got you. I've got you, baby."

He glared at Beverley over Kaleigh's head. "You did this. You stressed her out. You'll pay for this."

He limped toward the elevator, carrying Kaleigh. Ryan skipped behind them, his crying stopped instantly.

Beverley watched them go. The elevator doors opened. Ellwood stepped inside, turned with difficulty, and the doors began to close.

A profound sense of clarity washed over her. The fight was over. The hope was gone. The last thread tying her to this nightmare had snapped.

She reached into her pocket. Her phone had 3% battery.

She didn't call a lawyer. She didn't call her parents. She opened the voice recorder app.

She hit record. She walked toward the elevator, stopping just before the doors sealed shut.

"Ellwood," she called out.

Through the narrowing gap, she saw him pause, looking at her with disgust.

Beverley looked straight into his eyes. She held up the phone.

"Ellwood Stevenson," she said, her voice clear and steady, echoing in the empty garage. "I want a divorce."

The doors closed.