Chapter 4

They were waiting for me when I was discharged.

Chloe and Mark. They stood in the hospital lobby, looking for all the world like a concerned, loving couple. My ex-mother-in-law was with them, her face pale and drawn.

"Ethan," she began, stepping forward. "Chloe told me everything. About the lies you told her, about Ben..."

Mark put a hand on her shoulder. "Now, now, Margaret. We' re not here to argue. We' re here to take Ethan home. He' s clearly not well enough to be on his own."

His smile was a shark' s smile. I knew what 'home' meant. It wasn' t my home anymore. It was theirs.

They drove me back to the house. The moment the door closed, the charade ended.

"The basement," Mark said, his voice flat and cold.

He grabbed my arm. I was still weak from the hospital stay, my ribs aching with every breath. I stumbled, and he dragged me down the stairs into the cold, damp concrete basement. He shoved me into an old wooden chair.

Chloe followed, carrying a coil of rope.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, struggling against Mark' s grip.

"A little behavioral therapy," Mark said conversationally as he started tying my wrists to the arms of the chair. "You have a problem with lying, Ethan. We' re going to help you fix it."

Chloe watched, her arms crossed, an approving look on her face. "He needs to admit what he did. He needs to confess."

"Confess to what?" I yelled, the sound swallowed by the thick basement walls. "I have nothing to confess!"

Mark slapped me. Hard. The force of it snapped my head to the side, and the world exploded in a flash of white light. Pain seared across my cheek.

"Wrong answer," he said calmly. He leaned in, his face close to mine. "Let' s try again. Confess that you lied to Chloe about Ben. Confess that you manipulated her. Confess that you' re a worthless piece of trash who doesn' t deserve her."

My head was spinning. The pain, the tumor, the sheer insanity of it all was overwhelming. "No," I whispered. "It' s not true."

He hit me again, on the other side. My lip split, and I tasted blood.

"We can do this all night, Ethan," Chloe said, her voice bored. "Just tell the truth for once in your life, and it can all be over."

They brought Liam down.

He stood in the doorway, looking at me tied to the chair, his eyes wide. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of fear, of childish confusion.

"Tell him what he is, Liam," Chloe prompted gently.

Liam' s face hardened, mimicking his mother' s expression. He walked over to me. He held a small toy car in his hand.

"You' re a bad man," he said, his voice small but steady. "You hurt Mommy. You' re a liar."

He then drew back his arm and threw the toy car at my face. The hard plastic corner caught me right on the temple. It wasn't a powerful throw, but it was the humiliation, the finality of it, that broke me.

My own son.

"Good boy," Mark said, ruffling Liam' s hair. "See, Ethan? Even a child knows the truth."

Chloe kneeled in front of me, her expression almost pitying. "Just say it, Ethan. Say, 'I' m sorry, Chloe. I lied about everything.' Say it, and we' ll let you go."

I looked at her, at the woman I once loved, at the man who had stolen my life, at the child who had been taught to hate me. Something inside me gave way.

"I... I' m sorry," I choked out, the words feeling like acid on my tongue. "I lied."

A triumphant smile spread across Chloe' s face. "You lied about what? Say it all."

"I lied about Ben," I whispered, the fight draining out of me. "I... manipulated you."

"And?" Mark prompted, his hand resting on my shoulder in a mockery of comfort.

The door to the basement opened again. It was Dr. Evelyn Reed. She stood at the top of the stairs, her face a mask of cold fury. Two police officers stood behind her.

"I was wondering where my patient had disappeared to," she said, her voice dangerously quiet.

Chloe and Mark froze.

My head slumped forward. The darkness I had been fighting against finally rushed in and swallowed me whole. I fainted, the sound of Evelyn' s sharp, commanding voice the last thing I heard.