Chapter 2

Sylvia was the first to break. Her face, usually a perfect mask of calculated charm, crumbled into genuine panic. "Jocelyn, we... we can explain."

"Can you?" I closed the door behind me, the soft click echoing in the tense room. "Explain how you know my husband and sons are planning to watch me die. Explain what 'system' gave you this information."

Maria, ever the more pragmatic one, found her voice. "It' s complicated. We' re not from this... world. We were sent here on a mission. To marry your sons, to secure a place in this family."

"A mission from who?" I demanded.

"You wouldn' t believe us," Sylvia whispered, looking at the floor.

"Try me," I said, my eyes locking onto hers. "Because right now, you' re in my house, married to my sons, and you' ve just told me I' m on a death clock. You have two options: you tell me everything, or I walk out that door and tell my husband you' re spies, or crazy, or both. He' d ruin you before breakfast."

The threat hung in the air. They knew it was true. The Blakely family crushed its enemies.

Finally, Maria took a deep breath. "The system... it' s a program. It sends people like us into story worlds, into the lives of powerful families. We complete missions, we get rewards. Financial security, a new life. Our mission was to marry Ethan and Andrew."

"And what was my role in your 'story world' ?" I asked, the words tasting like poison.

"The tragic matriarch," Sylvia admitted, her voice barely audible. "The one who gets sacrificed for the new female lead. Sabrina." She looked up, her eyes filled with a strange mix of pity and fear. "The system showed us the entire plot. Your husband brings Sabrina in, you' re forced to accept her, your health fails under the emotional strain, and you die. The family grieves for a month, and then Sabrina takes your place. We were supposed to just be background characters."

A future of betrayal, sickness, and a lonely death. The vision was so clear, so horribly plausible. I saw it all: Matthew' s performative grief, my sons' guilt quickly fading, and Sabrina, the cuckoo in my nest, presiding over my home.

"But we don' t want that," Maria added quickly. "We have our own plan. We' ve been siphoning money. We were going to fake our deaths and disappear. We never wanted you to get hurt."

I laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You weren' t going to warn me?"

They had the decency to look ashamed.

"No," I said, my mind racing. "You' re not going to fake your deaths. We are."

They stared at me, confused.

"You want out? You want money?" I leaned forward, my voice a low, determined whisper. "I know where Matthew keeps his real money. Not the official funds. The offshore accounts. Millions. Enough for all three of us to disappear and live like queens. But you' re going to do this my way. You' re going to include me in your escape plan."

I looked from one stunned face to the other. "I' m a former marathon runner. I' m in better shape than my husband and my sons combined. And I know every secret this family has. You need me more than you know."

An alliance. It was insane. It was treacherous. But as I looked at these two young women, who were just as trapped as I was, I saw the only way out. We were no longer enemies. We were co-conspirators.