Chapter 4

I woke up in a sterile white room. A hospital. Eleanor Montgomery sat in a chair by the window, her expression unreadable.

"The doctors say you' ll recover," she said, her voice devoid of warmth. "The internal injuries were... significant. They' re not sure about your future fertility."

My heart clenched. That was Ethan' s goal.

"You' re lucky I found you before those thugs did worse, or the police arrested you for assault," she continued. "Ethan was... overwrought. Chloe was very upset."

I said nothing, feigning weakness, but inside, despair warred with a cold, hardening resolve. She was concerned, yes, but only because I might still be useful.

A nurse, chattering while she changed my IV, mentioned the Montgomerys. "Mr. Montgomery is so devoted to his fiancée, Miss Vanderbilt. He' s been sending her flowers every day, even had a special chef prepare her meals while she was 'recovering from the shock' of your... incident."

The contrast was stark. For Chloe, devotion. For me, brutality.

I remembered a time in our first life. I' d had a mild fever, pregnant with his twins. I' d asked for a glass of water. Ethan had scoffed, told me to get it myself, that I wasn' t an invalid. Now, he was lavishing care on Chloe for a fabricated scratch. The realization hit me with full force: he was incapable of genuine care for anyone but himself, and Chloe was merely an extension of his ego. My past naivety was a bitter pill.

Weeks passed. Word reached me, through Eleanor' s carefully filtered updates, that Ethan' s health was surprisingly stable. "The doctors are amazed," Eleanor said, a hint of something unreadable in her voice. "He seems to be rallying on his own."

Her interest in me, in my "gift," began to wane. If Ethan didn' t need me, I was just a complication. A wave of relief washed over me. This was my chance.

One morning, Eleanor came to my room. "Sarah-Mae," she began, more formal than usual. "Since Ethan is doing better, and your... presence... is clearly a source of friction, I' ve been considering other options for you."

She paused. "I' ve been approached by the Riley family. You may have heard of Captain Jack Riley. A war hero. His family is... concerned about his legacy. They are aware of the folklore from your region."

My heart beat faster. This was it.

"They are proposing a marriage," Eleanor stated. "It would be a quiet arrangement, of course. But it would provide you with security, and it would be... a PR coup for the Montgomery family to be seen facilitating such a match for a national hero."

"I accept," I said, perhaps too quickly.

Eleanor looked surprised. "You' ve given this little thought."

"I' ve given it enough thought, Mrs. Montgomery," I replied.

Inside, I smiled. This wasn't just an opportunity; it was the culmination of a plan I' d set in motion from my hospital bed. Weeks ago, using a sympathetic nurse to mail a carefully worded letter, I had secretly contacted the Riley family myself, anonymously suggesting the folklore and hinting at a solution for their son. I had planted the seed.

Eleanor nodded slowly, a flicker of approval in her eyes. "Very well. It' s a sensible solution. It removes you from Ethan' s orbit and solves a delicate problem for the Rileys. And for us." She even offered a small, independent trust fund for me. "A gesture of goodwill," she called it. A way to ensure my silence and cooperation, more like. I didn't care. I was getting out.