Chapter 5

"A change of scenery will do you good, Sarah," Ethan said a few days later. "We're going to the family ranch. For your recovery."

The sprawling Hayes Ranch in the Texas Hill Country.

Eleanor Hayes' s domain.

I knew this wouldn't be a recovery period. It would be another form of torture.

But I agreed, my voice carefully neutral. I needed to gather more.

The moment we arrived, Eleanor' s disdain was a physical presence.

Her eyes scanned me, lingering on my still-healing body, my pale face.

"Sarah. You look... drained," she said, no warmth in her voice.

Then she saw the baby, "Anson," in Ethan' s arms. Her expression softened fractionally.

"At least the Hayes line continues," she murmured, more to herself than to me.

And then, Jessica Vance walked in.

Smiling, radiant, holding a glass of iced tea.

"Jessica, darling!" Eleanor cooed, rushing to embrace her. "So good of you to come help out."

Ethan introduced her. "Sarah, this is Jessica, a close family friend. She' s offered to help with Anson while you get your strength back."

A close family friend.

The woman who was sleeping with my husband, who had carried his child, who was complicit in the destruction of my life.

Jessica' s eyes met mine, a flicker of triumph in their depths.

"So nice to finally meet you properly, Sarah," she said, her voice sweet as poison. "Anson is just precious."

The days that followed were a nightmare of subtle and overt humiliations.

Eleanor fawned over Jessica, praising her "natural maternal instincts."

Jessica was openly breastfeeding "Anson." My son. No, her son. The son who replaced mine.

It was a constant, visceral reminder of what I had lost, what they had stolen.

Ethan showered Jessica with attention and gifts.

One afternoon, a delivery arrived. Boxes and boxes from a high-end Austin boutique.

Designer boots. Dozens of pairs.

"One for every week you'll be helping with Anson," Ethan announced, beaming at Jessica as she modeled a pair of ostrich skin boots. "A small token of my appreciation."

Eleanor clapped her hands in delight.

I watched, a hollow ache in my chest.

That evening, at a formal family dinner, I felt weak, dizzy.

I stumbled as I tried to rise from my chair.

Instinctively, Ethan rushed forward.

But not to me.

Jessica, seated beside him, had feigned a stumble at the exact same moment.

Ethan' s hands shot out to steady Jessica, his concern palpable.

I fell, catching myself on the edge of the table, plates rattling.

No one moved to help me.

Eleanor tutted. "Clumsy, Sarah. You must be more careful."

Ethan didn't even look at me. He was still fussing over Jessica.

"Are you alright, Jess?"

I pulled myself up, my face burning.

Discarded. Invisible.

My resolve hardened. I would not break. I would make them pay.