Chapter 3

The next week was a blur of secret, frantic activity.

Eleanor was a general planning a campaign.

"Money first," she said. "My tech fortune isn't what it was after I rolled a lot into Davenport assets, but I kept a significant portion liquid, offshore. Smart girl."

She tapped her temple. "Jewelry too. Yours, mine. It's portable, untraceable value."

We met in quiet coffee shops, far from the Davenport sphere of influence, poring over maps and lists.

Eleanor knew people, people who could make things happen, arrange for new identities, secure transport.

The plan was audacious: the Davenport family estate in the Hamptons had a relatively isolated guest wing, where Eleanor and I often stayed during summer weekends.

"A fire," Eleanor said, her voice calm, "a tragic accident. Faulty wiring, perhaps. While they are schmoozing at the gala."

We would make it look like we were there, asleep.

We packed light, only essentials, things that wouldn't be missed immediately. Sentimental items were the hardest to leave.

I held a small, custom-made silver bracelet Liam had given me on our first anniversary. It had a tiny charm, a map of Boston, where we met.

My heart ached. This was real.

The night of the gala arrived, cold and clear.

We knew Arthur and Liam had already left for the city, dressed in their tuxedos, probably picking up their dates.

Eleanor handled the technical aspects of the "accident" in the Hamptons wing. She was surprisingly adept.

"Old spy movies," she quipped, but her face was grim.

We left clothes, some of my jewelry-not the best pieces, but enough to be convincing-scattered in the bedrooms.

The last thing I did was place Liam's bracelet on the nightstand in what was supposed to be my room, a small, heartbreaking symbol of what he was throwing away.

Then, with a final look at the grand house that was meant to be my home, we slipped away into the night.

Eleanor had arranged for a non-descript car, driven by a silent man who asked no questions.

Our destination: New Orleans.

A city Eleanor chose for its anonymity, its vibrancy, its reputation as a place where people could reinvent themselves. "A place for new beginnings, Chloe," she'd said. "And good music."

As the miles stretched between us and New York, a strange calm settled over me.

The betrayal still burned, but now there was also a sliver of something else: freedom.

We drove through the night, taking turns to sleep fitfully.

The sun was rising as we crossed into Pennsylvania.

I felt a wave of nausea, not from the car, but deeper, more insistent.

I' d missed my period. I'd been so consumed by the chaos, I hadn't even thought...

"Eleanor," I said, my hand flying to my stomach. "I think... I think I might be pregnant."

She looked at me, her eyes wide, then a slow smile spread across her face.

"Well, Chloe," she said, after a moment. "That is... unexpected."

A week later, in a small clinic in a town whose name I barely registered, two tests confirmed it. I was pregnant.

And then, the universe threw another curveball. Eleanor, pale and shaken, came out of her own doctor' s appointment.

"You are not going to believe this," she said, a hysterical little laugh escaping her. "Apparently, Arthur and I had one last... moment of connection before all this. I'm pregnant too."

We just stared at each other, two runaway wives, supposedly dead, both pregnant.

It was too much, too absurd. We burst into laughter, tears streaming down our faces.

"Okay," Eleanor said, wiping her eyes, suddenly practical again. "Okay. New plan. We find a quiet place. We have these babies. We raise them together."

We wouldn't go to New Orleans right away. Not yet.

We found a small, sleepy town in central Louisiana, rented a modest house, and adopted new names. I became Sarah, she became Emily.

Eleanor' s remaining funds, carefully managed, would see us through.

Months later, I gave birth to a healthy baby boy. I named him Noah Miller, using my maiden name.

A few weeks after that, Eleanor had a little girl, Sophie Vance, using her own maiden name, Chen, as Vance.

Two new mothers, two new lives, a shared secret binding us tighter than ever.