Chapter 3

Just as I predicted, Ryan didn't wait. Less than thirty minutes later, the doors to my firm's reception area burst open. Ryan Clark stormed in, his face a mask of theatrical panic and fury. He looked exactly as I remembered from my first life's nightmare: disheveled hair, a cheap jacket, and eyes burning with a righteous anger he didn't earn.

"Andrew Scott!" he bellowed, making sure every associate and paralegal in the open-plan office could hear him. "What the hell are you doing sitting here?"

My partners glanced up from their offices, their expressions a mixture of surprise and concern. This was part of the show. To paint me as the cold, detached husband.

I stood up slowly, my face a carefully constructed mask of confusion and worry. "Ryan? What are you doing here? I told you I was on my way."

"On your way? Jenny is in a helicopter right now! She could be dying, and you're worried about your billable hours!" He jabbed a finger at me, his voice cracking with fake emotion. "I had to make the call. I had to watch them load her onto that chopper while you were in a 'deposition'!"

I let the silence hang in the air for a moment, letting his performance sink in for the audience. Then, I took a step forward, my voice low and calm, cutting through his hysteria.

"You're right, Ryan. This is serious," I said, my eyes locking onto his. "I'm just trying to understand. How did you know to take her on that specific trail? The 'Widow's Leap'? It's a notoriously difficult climb. Jenny knows better than that."

Ryan's face flickered. A brief, almost imperceptible shift from outrage to panic. He hadn't expected questions. He'd expected a guilt-ridden husband he could easily manipulate.

"What? What does that matter now?" he stammered, his volume dropping slightly.

"And her phone," I continued, pressing the advantage. "I tried calling her this morning. It went straight to voicemail. Why was her phone turned off for hours before the 'accident'?"

"I don't know! Maybe the battery died! Are you crazy? You're questioning me right now instead of going to your wife?" He was back on script, deflecting, turning the accusation back on me. The other lawyers were watching, their faces unreadable.

I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender, my expression softening into one of deep concern. "You're right. You're right, I'm sorry. My mind is just... racing. I'm not thinking straight." I grabbed my briefcase. "Let's go. We'll go to the hospital together."

He visibly relaxed, a smug certainty returning to his eyes. He thought he had me. He thought I was the same trusting fool from before.

As we walked to the elevator, I let him lead the way, watching the back of his head. He had no idea he was a dead man walking. He was so focused on the money he couldn't see the trap I was laying, using the very same plan he had designed.