Chapter 2

Three years felt like a lifetime ago.

Havenwood, West Virginia, was a quiet town. Poor, maybe, but peaceful.

I volunteered at the community center. It gave me purpose.

Life had a new rhythm. A good one.

Victoria Sterling was my wife now.

She was everything Brenda wasn't: kind, genuine, fiercely loving.

And powerful, though she never flaunted it. Her family was old money, East Coast, the kind that didn't need to announce itself.

We had three beautiful children, their laughter filling our small, comfortable home.

I was stacking cans at the local diner, helping out the owner, old Mr. Henderson, when the noise started.

A convoy of black SUVs, windows tinted, engines rumbling like thunder.

They pulled up outside, taking up half the street.

Brenda stepped out of the lead vehicle.

She wore sunglasses too big for her face, a dress that screamed "Miami."

Billy Ray was beside her, preening in a suit that looked out of place in Havenwood.

He had a small entourage of flashy women, their laughter too loud. The "New Money Wives," as Victoria would later call them.

Brenda scanned the street, then her eyes landed on me through the diner window.

She paused, then a slow, pitying smile spread across her face.

She walked into the diner, her heels clicking on the worn linoleum.

Billy Ray and her friends followed, looking around like they'd entered a zoo.

"Michael," Brenda said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Fancy meeting you here. Working, are we?"

She gestured vaguely at the cans. "Still keeping busy, I see."

I just looked at her.

"Listen," she continued, lowering her voice conspiratorially, though everyone could hear. "Billy Ray and I are here for a charity event. Very high profile. He's a real estate tycoon now, you know. Incredibly successful."

Billy Ray puffed out his chest.

"He's a bit tired from the drive," Brenda said, glancing at him with an adoring look that made my stomach turn.

"If you were to, say, apologize to him for... well, for everything. And maybe show him you've learned your lesson, be a bit more accommodating to his needs... who knows?"

She leaned closer. "Maybe there's a chance for us to rekindle things. After all this time, I still think about you sometimes."

Her eyes scanned my simple work clothes. "You look like you could use a break, Michael. A real one."

I remembered mentoring Billy Ray years ago, trying to guide him, believing he was just a troubled kid.

The memory felt like ash in my mouth.

"I'm fine, Brenda," I said, my voice even.

"Suit yourself," she shrugged, her smile tightening. "But the offer's there. If you change your mind, find us at the community center later. Billy Ray is making a very generous donation."

She turned to leave, then paused. "And Michael? Try to look a bit more... presentable. You're an embarrassment."

They swept out, leaving the scent of expensive perfume and arrogance hanging in the air.

Mr. Henderson just shook his head. "Some folks got more money than sense, Mike."

I nodded, my quiet life suddenly feeling very fragile.