Chapter 3

The "psychological evaluations" began.

They weren't evaluations. They were sessions of torment in a sterile, white room. Bright lights, sleep deprivation, endless questions from a doctor whose loyalty was to Wesley, not to medicine. They took photos of me at my worst-exhausted, pale, eyes hollowed out. The tabloids published them with glee. "FIRST LADY'S BREAKDOWN," the headlines screamed.

I endured it. I knew this was just a prelude to the "accident" he had planned.

Then they came for my daughter.

A call came in the middle of a session. Annabel had collapsed. A severe, mysterious "allergic reaction." I was rushed to the residence, my heart pounding against my ribs.

I found her in her bed, her small body covered in hives, her breathing shallow. A White House doctor was administering a basic antihistamine.

"She needs to go to Walter Reed," I pleaded, my voice raw. "She needs specialists."

Wesley appeared in the doorway, his face a mask of cold indifference.

"She'll get the best care," he said smoothly. "As soon as you do the right thing."

He held up a tablet. On the screen was a prepared statement. A confession.

"Admit you tried to poison Sabrina's son," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Go on camera. Tell the world you're unstable and sorry. Do that, and the best pediatric immunology team in the country will be on a helicopter in five minutes."

He was using my daughter's life as a bargaining chip.

I looked at Annabel's pale, struggling face. I looked at the man who was her father. There was no choice.

"I'll do it," I whispered.

An hour later, I stood before a podium, cameras flashing, and read the confession. I felt the weight of the world's judgment settle on my shoulders, a familiar, crushing burden. Each word was a piece of my soul being torn away.

As soon as I finished, Wesley gave a curt nod. The whir of helicopter blades started in the distance.

I had saved Annabel. But I had handed him the perfect narrative for my upcoming "accidental" death. The world would see it as the tragic but inevitable end for a disturbed and dangerous woman.