Chapter 1

Today was my twenty-seventh birthday. It was also the day I buried my mother.

I stood in the sterile, quiet room of the funeral home, the scent of antiseptic and lilies heavy in the air. The polished wooden urn felt cold and impersonal in my hands, a stark contrast to the warmth of the woman who had raised me. My adoptive mother, the only parent I had ever known, was gone.

My phone remained silent on the small table beside me. Not a single call, not a single text from my husband, Ethan Miller. He wasn't here. He hadn't been at the hospital when she passed, and he wasn't here now to help me say goodbye.

The finality of it all settled deep in my bones, a cold weight that had nothing to do with grief and everything to do with a long, painful truth. My marriage was as empty as this room.

After settling the arrangements and placing my mother' s ashes in a temporary niche, I drove back to the house that never felt like a home. The oversized mansion was silent, a monument to wealth and loneliness. Just as I walked through the door, my phone finally rang. My heart gave a foolish little jump before I saw the caller ID.

It wasn't Ethan. It was my Aunt Carol.

"Lily, honey? How are you holding up?" Her voice was a lifeline, warm and full of concern.

Tears I hadn't allowed myself to shed began to well up. "I'm okay, Aunt Carol. I just got back."

"Listen to me, sweetheart. I know this is a terrible time to bring this up, but I want you to think about it. Come stay with me. Leave that place. You can study art again, do whatever you want. Just get away from him."

Her words weren't a surprise. She had never liked Ethan, had seen the coldness in him that I had chosen to ignore for five years. I looked around the vast, empty foyer, at the cold marble floors and the grand staircase leading to separate bedrooms.

My mother was gone. The one person I stayed for, the reason I endured this hollow life, was no longer here.

"Okay," I said, my voice barely a whisper, but the decision felt like a steel rod straightening my spine. "Okay, Aunt Carol. I'll come."

A breath of relief came through the phone. "Oh, Lily. That's the best news. We'll figure everything out."

"There's something else," I added, the words tasting strange and new on my tongue. "I'm going to divorce him."

We spoke for a few more minutes, making loose plans, and for the first time in a very long time, a flicker of something other than despair sparked within me. Hope.

Just as I hung up, the sound of a car engine pulling into the driveway shattered the quiet. My breath caught in my throat. It was Ethan' s sports car, its roar unmistakable. But it was followed by the sound of other car doors slamming shut. He wasn't alone.

I stood frozen in the hallway as the front door opened. The first person to walk in wasn't my husband, but his sister, Chloe Miller. She smirked when she saw me, her eyes filled with a familiar, casual cruelty.

"Well, look who it is," Chloe said, her voice dripping with disdain. She glanced at my simple black dress. "Still playing the part of the grieving daughter? So dramatic."

I didn't answer, my gaze fixed on the doorway behind her.

Chloe let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Don't look so pathetic. Ethan's just helping Sarah with her bags. You should be grateful. If it weren't for you, he wouldn't have needed a placeholder all these years."

"Placeholder?" The word hung in the air between us, ugly and sharp.

Chloe' s smile widened, a venomous slash across her face. "Of course. Did you really think you were anything more?"