Chapter 1

It' s our third anniversary, and the night is freezing.

Ethan shoves me out onto the balcony, the icy stone biting into the soles of my bare feet. I' m wearing nothing but a thin silk robe he bought, not for me, but for the woman he imagines me to be.

He stands in the doorway, a glass of whiskey in his hand, framed by the warm light of the house. He watches me shiver, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

"Cold, Annabel?"

I wrap my arms around myself, my teeth chattering. I don' t answer. My love for him died long ago, replaced by a hollow ache.

"This is nothing," he says, his voice cutting through the wind. "It' s just a fraction of what Gabrielle must have suffered because of you."

He takes a slow sip of his drink, his eyes filled with a familiar, deep-seated hatred. He' s always believed I was the reason my older sister, Gabrielle, disappeared on their wedding day three years ago. That my jealousy drove her away.

So, he married me instead. A substitute. A punishment.

He thinks I' m a monster, so he treats me like one. I look at him, the man I once loved with all my heart, the town' s golden boy. Now, he' s just my tormentor.

"I didn' t do anything to her," I whisper, my voice lost in the wind.

He scoffs. "Save it. Your lies don' t work on me."

I close my eyes, a foolish, desperate hope flickering inside me. Maybe tonight, on our anniversary, he' ll show a shred of mercy. Maybe he' ll let me back inside.

He steps closer, and for a second, I think he will. But he just leans down, his voice a cold whisper in my ear.

"Do you know what she must have felt? Alone, scared, cold... all because you couldn't stand to see her happy." He straightens up, his expression unyielding. "You will stay out here and think about what you did."

Just then, the phone inside the house rings, piercing the quiet tension. He glances back, annoyed by the interruption. He walks over and answers it.

I watch him through the glass, his back rigid. Then I see his shoulders relax, his entire posture changing. A look of pure, unadulterated joy spreads across his face, a look I have never, ever seen directed at me.

He drops the phone and rushes past me without a second glance, leaving the door open to the cold. He doesn't even grab a coat.

"Gabrielle," he breathes, his voice filled with a desperate, ecstatic relief. "She' s back. They found her."

He runs to his car, starts the engine with a roar, and speeds away into the night, leaving me shivering and forgotten on the balcony. I stand there, naked under the silk, as the cold seeps deep into my bones, feeling like I' ve been plunged into an icy abyss.

A few minutes later, one of the housekeepers, Mrs. Gable, appears. She doesn' t look at me. She just places a glass of water and a small white pill on the table just inside the door.

"Mr. Lester' s orders," she says, her voice flat and devoid of pity. It' s the morning-after pill. A routine part of my humiliation.

I stare at the pill, then back out at the empty driveway where his car was. My sister is back. The real lady of the house has returned.

And my nightmare is only just beginning.