Chapter 3

Ethan's rage was a physical force in the small room.

"You think you can hide her from me?" he snarled, advancing on David.

David stood his ground, his face grim. "She's gone, Cole. You killed her."

"I didn't kill anyone!" Ethan shoved David hard.

David stumbled, his prosthetic giving way. He crashed against the table.

"David!" Maria rushed to his side.

Ethan grabbed Maria's arm, his fingers digging in. "Where is she?"

I swirled around him, desperate, trying to push him, to scream, anything. But I was just air, a whisper of grief.

"Leave her alone!" David struggled to get up, his face contorted in pain.

"Tell me, or I swear-"

"She's your mother, Ethan!" David yelled, his voice raw with desperation and pain. "This is Maria Cole, your mother!"

Ethan froze, his grip on Maria loosening slightly. He stared at her, then laughed again, that same cruel sound.

"My mother? My mother is dead. Died when I was a kid. Nice try, cripple. Another one of Sarah's pathetic little games."

He dismissed it, just like that.

My memories flooded back, sharp and agonizing.

*Ethan, his face cold, telling me Tiffany was just "teasing" in high school, that I was "too sensitive," "melodramatic." His words, chipping away at my sanity.*

*The sterile white walls of the mental facility. Ethan's signature on the committal papers. "For your own good, Sarah."*

*And there, in that place of despair, I found Maria. Small, frightened, abandoned years ago by Ethan's wealthy, estranged father after an affair. Ethan had been told she died.*

*A shared glance, a recognition of kindred suffering. We understood each other without words.*

I watched, helpless, as Ethan turned back to David, his eyes blazing.

"You're going to tell me where Sarah is, or I'll break your other leg."