Chapter 3

Jack was fast, discreet. Within days, he had answers.

Izzy was having an affair. No surprise there.

But with who? Kyle Bishop.

And Kyle Bishop was Carol's biological son from a previous relationship.

My blood ran cold. Carol, my stepmother, her son, my wife. A conspiracy.

It was far deeper, far more venomous than I had ever imagined. The casual cruelty of it all.

Then came Lily's birthday party, an event I remembered with a cold dread.

This was the day she died in my past life.

I watched everything, every interaction, a knot of ice in my stomach.

Izzy was overly affectionate with Lily, Carol doting. Mr. Henderson was even there, a calculated invitation by Izzy to witness my "stability."

Then, just like before, Lily tugged my hand. "Daddy, come see the surprise on the balcony!"

She blindfolded me, her small hands giggling. "No peeking!"

The cold dread intensified. This was it.

A thud. A sickening, final sound from below.

Izzy screamed, a raw, piercing cry.

Carol rushed to the balcony railing, looking down, then turned, her face a mask of horror.

"Lily! Oh my god, Lily!"

I ripped off the blindfold. The balcony was empty, except for us.

Down below, a small form lay on the pavement.

Izzy was already wailing, "He did it! Ethan killed her! I saw it!"

Carol chimed in, "He was acting strangely all day! He pushed her!"

Mr. Henderson, pale and shaking, stammered, "I saw him... he was aggressive at dinner the other night... with Izzy..."

A suicide note, "found" by Izzy near the railing, was thrust into the arriving Detective Ramirez's hand.

"Daddy, I can't take it anymore. You hurt me."

The crowd was gathering, a low snarl of anger.

Then I spoke, my voice cutting through the chaos.

"I did it."

A gasp from the crowd. Izzy and Carol exchanged a look of triumph.

"But," I continued, my voice ringing out, "The real killer isn't me!"

Detective Ramirez, a sharp-looking man, stepped forward, holding up a hand to halt the advancing mob.

"Alright, alright, let's calm down. Nobody is going anywhere."

His eyes met mine, skeptical, but with a flicker of something else. Interest.

The news crews were already there, cameras flashing, live streaming the nightmare.

The public outcry was immediate, vicious. "Monster!" "Killer!"

Izzy, tears streaming, gave a heart-wrenching performance for the cameras.

"I tried to protect her," she sobbed, clutching the note. "He was always so angry... I saw the bruises... I should have known."

She even showed them doctored footage on her phone, quick, blurry, showing a man, me, supposedly shaking Lily on this very balcony days ago. Lily's voice, small and scared, "Daddy, stop, you're hurting me!"

It was a lie, all of it. But it was convincing.

The crowd surged, someone threw a rock that grazed my head. I barely flinched.

Izzy collapsed into Carol's arms, a perfect picture of a grieving mother.

"Why, Ethan, why?" she wailed. "She was your daughter!"

I looked at her, my expression unreadable. "Was she, Izzy?"

Ramirez pulled me aside. "You have a lot of explaining to do, Miller."