Chapter 2

The night was endless. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard my son' s laugh and my husband' s lies. The physical pain from the skin grafts was a dull ache compared to the sharp, relentless agony in my chest.

Morning came, painting the room in gray light. Mark walked in with a tray. A single rose in a small vase sat next to a cup of coffee.

"Morning, honey. I thought you could use some breakfast in bed," he said, his smile perfectly charming.

I wanted to throw the tray at his face. Instead, I sat up slowly, wincing as my healing skin pulled.

"Thank you, Mark. That's thoughtful." My voice was flat, devoid of the warmth he was used to.

He sat on the edge of the bed. "You seem distant. Is the pain really bad today?"

"I'm just tired," I said, looking past him, out the window. "It takes a toll."

He nodded, feigning sympathy. "Of course. Well, I'm taking Liam to school. Scarlett is stopping by to help him with his history project afterwards."

He said her name so easily. So casually.

"Fine," I said.

He kissed my forehead. His lips felt like ice. "Get some rest. We'll be back later."

As soon as the front door closed, I got out of bed. The mask of the weary, pained wife dropped away. I went to my closet and pulled out a suitcase hidden in the back. I started packing, my movements methodical and precise. I took only my most personal belongings, my design sketches, and the few pieces of jewelry I had made for myself. Everything else, the life he had bought for me, I left behind.

An email notification popped up on my phone. It was from Liam's school.

"Reminder: Annual Family Fun Day is this Saturday at 10 AM. We hope to see all our families there for a day of games and community!"

My first instinct was to delete it. Why would I go? To watch them play happy family in public?

But then a different thought took hold. I needed to see it. I needed to see the full extent of their betrayal, to burn away any lingering shred of doubt or love that might still be hiding in the dark corners of my heart. I needed to see them one last time as they truly were.

On Saturday, I dressed carefully, choosing a simple dress that hid the bandages on my body. I drove to the school, my stomach in knots.

The school field was a sea of bright colors and happy shouts. I saw them almost immediately. Mark and Scarlett were standing by the bake sale table, laughing. Liam was with them, holding Scarlett's hand.

My feet felt rooted to the ground. I watched as Mark leaned in and whispered something in Scarlett's ear. She threw her head back and laughed, her hand resting on his chest in a gesture of easy intimacy.

Then, the moment that broke me. Liam tugged on Scarlett's hand.

"Mommy, can I have a cookie?"

His voice was clear, carrying across the lawn. A few nearby parents turned to look. Scarlett beamed, ruffling his hair.

"Of course, my sweet boy," she cooed, handing him a large chocolate chip cookie.

Mark watched them, a proud smile on his face. He looked up, and his eyes met mine from across the field. His smile faltered for a second, then he gave a small, dismissive wave, as if I were a casual acquaintance.

I couldn't breathe. It wasn't enough to steal my husband and my life in private. They had to erase me in public, too.

I turned to leave, my vision blurring with tears I refused to let fall. I just needed to get to my car. I needed to get away.

I wasn't looking where I was going. I bumped into someone hard, sending a paper plate of half-eaten hot dog flying.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I stammered, bending to help.

"No, my fault," a woman said. She looked up at me, her eyes widening in recognition. "Oh my god, you're Ava Harrison! Scarlett's sister! We're huge fans of her work."

Her voice was loud. Too loud. Heads turned. The laughing chatter around us died down.

Suddenly, I was the center of attention. A spotlight I never wanted. And from across the field, I saw Mark, Scarlett, and Liam start walking towards me, their faces a mixture of annoyance and grim determination. The show was about to begin.