Chapter 1

Five years.

Five years, and the silence in our house had grown into a living thing.

It sat with us at dinner, heavy and cold.

Ethan, my husband, the brilliant CEO of Hayes Innovations, was a stranger.

He moved through our lives like a ghost, his smiles reserved for cameras and colleagues, never for me, or for our son, Leo.

Leo was six. He still drew pictures of our family, three stick figures holding hands under a bright yellow sun.

I didn' t have the heart to tell him the sun had set on us a long time ago.

Tonight, I decided.

I couldn' t do it anymore.

I watched Ethan across the dinner table, his face illuminated by his phone screen. He hadn' t said a word to me all evening.

"Ethan," I said, my voice quiet but firm.

He didn't look up. "Hmm?"

"I'm leaving. I'm taking Leo, and we're leaving."

That got his attention. His head snapped up, eyes narrowed.

"Don't be ridiculous, Sarah."

"I'm not. I can't live like this. Leo can't live like this."

He finally put his phone down. "What are you talking about? We have a good life."

"You have a good life, Ethan. We're just... scenery."

A flicker of something crossed his face – annoyance, maybe. "We'll talk about this later. I have an early start."

He stood up, ready to dismiss me, to dismiss everything.

"No," I said, standing too. "There's nothing to talk about. My mind is made up."

I started packing that night, small bags for Leo and me. Essentials only.

A fresh start. That' s what I told myself.

Two days later, Leo was asleep in the back seat, his favorite teddy bear clutched in his arms.

My old sedan was loaded with our few belongings.

I glanced in the rearview mirror at our son, a small, peaceful smile on his face.

This was for him. For us.

The rain started suddenly, a torrential downpour that blurred the road.

Headlights appeared out of nowhere, blindingly bright, coming straight at us.

I screamed, wrenched the wheel.

Then, darkness.

I woke up to a searing pain in my side, the smell of antiseptic, and the beeping of machines.

A hospital.

"Leo?" I croaked, panic clawing at my throat.

A nurse rushed to my side. "He's stable, ma'am. He's in surgery."

Surgery? My blood ran cold.

Later, a doctor, somber-faced, explained.

"You've lost a kidney, Mrs. Hayes. And your son... his left eye was too damaged. We couldn't save it."

My world tilted. A kidney. Leo' s eye.

Gone.

Ethan arrived, a mask of concern perfectly in place.

He held my hand, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"Sarah, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I should have been there."

His voice was thick with emotion. I almost believed him.

The media caught wind of it. Tech mogul' s family in tragic accident.

Ethan played his part beautifully.

He gave a tearful press conference outside the hospital.

"My family is everything to me," he choked out, cameras flashing. "I've been... distant. I've neglected them. This accident... it' s a wake-up call."

He looked directly into a camera. "Sarah, Leo, if you can hear me... I love you. Give me a chance. Give me 100 days. 100 days to prove I can be the husband and father you deserve."

It was a performance, grand and public.

I was weak, broken, lying in a hospital bed with a part of me missing, my son maimed.

The guilt was a crushing weight. If I hadn't tried to leave...

When he came to my room, his eyes red-rimmed, he knelt by my bed.

"Please, Sarah. 100 days. For Leo. For us."

I was so tired. So broken.

"Okay, Ethan," I whispered. "100 days."

He smiled, a genuine, relieved smile. Or so I thought.