Chapter 2

The dial tone seemed to stretch for an eternity. Dr. Evelyn Reed, my former mentor, a woman who saw talent in me I' d almost forgotten I possessed. She' d always been there, a quiet offer of support, a belief in my art that Ethan had never shared.

"Sarah? Is that you? What a surprise!" Her voice was warm, familiar, a balm to the raw wound Ethan' s words had just torn open.

"Dr. Reed," I started, my voice hoarse. "Evelyn. That fellowship... the one at the National Arts Institute... is it... is it still a possibility?"

There was a brief pause. "Sarah, of course. For you? Always. I told you, your work is exceptional. We' d be honored to have you. Is everything alright?"

"No," I said, the word a choked whisper. "No, it' s not. But I need to do this. For me."

"I understand," she said gently. "Or at least, I understand you need a change. The position is yours if you want it. It starts in a few weeks. There' s a stipend, accommodation..."

A few weeks. It felt like a lifetime away, and yet, terrifyingly close. To pack up my life, to leave Cody... The thought was a fresh stab of pain, but Ethan' s voice echoed in my ears: "He already likes you more anyway."

"I' ll take it," I said, the decision solidifying even as I spoke the words. "I need to. I' ve... I' ve put my art aside for too long. For my family. For what I thought was their happiness."

"Sarah," Dr. Reed' s voice was kind, but firm. "Your talent is a gift. Don't ever let anyone make you feel small for nurturing it. You sacrificed a lot. I remember how you turned down that residency in Vermont right after you met Ethan. You said he needed you, that he was starting his business."

Her words brought back a flood of memories. Ethan, charming and seemingly down-to-earth, talking about his dreams of simple living, of working with his hands. I' d bought into it completely, believing I was supporting him, building a life together. What a fool I' d been.

"He wasn't starting a business," I said, the bitterness coating my tongue. "He was... he was playing a role."

"The institute will be a good place for you, Sarah. A fresh start. You' ll be surrounded by people who appreciate your skill."

"Thank you, Evelyn. Really. You have no idea what this means."

"I think I do," she said softly. "Send me an email, and I' ll forward all the official paperwork. And Sarah? You' re strong. You' ll get through this."

I hung up, my hand still shaking. Strong? I didn' t feel strong. I felt shattered, hollowed out. But beneath the pain, a tiny spark of something else was kindling. Resolve.

I walked back to my stall at the flea market, the colorful quilts suddenly looking brighter, more vibrant. They weren't just crafts to make ends meet anymore. They were my ticket out. My voice.

The weight of Ethan' s deception was crushing, but Dr. Reed' s offer was a lifeline. A path back to Sarah Miller, the artist. Not just Sarah, Ethan' s wife, Cody' s mother.

The "simple life" Ethan had curated was a cage. And I had just found the key.