Chapter 3

Alexander looked at Karlee, a silent permission passing between them. "Tell her what you want."

Karlee' s smile widened. It was a predator' s smile. "My party is at the Grand Oak Hotel. I want you to be there. But not as a guest."

She paused, savoring the moment. "I want you to kneel by the entrance, in the rain, and greet every one of my guests. Like a dog."

The air left my lungs. The sheer cruelty of it was breathtaking. I looked at Alexander, searching his face for any sign of protest, any flicker of decency. There was none. He was watching me, his expression cold and clinical, as if I were a subject in one of his experiments.

This was the price of my freedom. This final, public humiliation.

My mind went to Cathi. To her last, desperate note. She had died feeling like a burden. I would not let her sacrifice be in vain. I would endure this for her, for the chance to live a life free from this poison.

"Fine," I whispered, the word tasting like bile. "But you sign the papers. Now."

Alexander' s eyebrows rose slightly, as if surprised by my quick capitulation. He picked up a pen, and with a flick of his wrist, his signature was on the page. He slid the document across the table.

"After the party," he said. "You can have it after you' ve done as she asks."

The next evening, I stood in front of a mirror. I was pale and thin, my eyes hollowed out by grief. I put on a simple black dress. No makeup. Nothing to hide the ravages of the last few days.

I drove myself to the Grand Oak. The rain was coming down in cold, relentless sheets, just as Karlee had planned. I walked to the grand entrance, past the valets and the doormen, and I knelt on the cold, wet pavement.

Guests began to arrive, stepping out of gleaming cars. They were the city' s elite, people I knew, people who knew me as Alexander Vaughan' s wife. Their eyes widened in shock, then shifted away in embarrassment or veiled contempt. Whispers followed them into the warm, brightly lit hotel.

"Is that... Addie Porter?"

"What is she doing?"

"Vaughan must have finally thrown her out."

Each whisper was a small cut. But I kept my head down, my gaze fixed on the dark, wet concrete. My knees were scraped raw. The cold seeped into my bones. I thought of Cathi. This was for her. This was for my escape.

Hours passed. My body was a study in misery. I was shivering uncontrollably, and a feverish heat was starting to bloom behind my eyes.

Through the glass doors, I could see the party in full swing. I saw Alexander raise a glass to Karlee, his face lit with a smile. They were celebrating, while I knelt in the gutter. The contrast was so stark, so brutal, it almost broke me.

Finally, the last guest arrived. I pushed myself up, my legs screaming in protest. I was dizzy, my vision swimming. I walked into the hotel, dripping water on the plush carpet. I had to get those papers.

I found Alexander near the bar, Karlee clinging to his arm. She was wearing a breathtaking diamond necklace.

"You did well," Alexander said, his voice laced with something that might have been amusement. He didn' t even look at me.

"The papers," I said, my teeth chattering.

Karlee pouted. "Not yet. One more thing." She pointed to a small, delicate silver necklace I wore. "I like that. Give it to me."

My hand flew to my throat. It was the last thing Cathi had made, a simple charm she' d designed herself. It was all I had left of her.

"No," I said, the word a raw tear in my throat. "You can' t have this."

Alexander' s face darkened. "Addie. Don' t be difficult. Give it to her."

"It was my sister' s," I pleaded, looking at him. "Please, Alexander. Not this."

He was unmoved. "Give. It. To. Her."

My heart shattered. He was taking everything. My sister, my dignity, and now this last, precious piece of her. With trembling fingers, I unclasped the necklace.

He took it from my hand and handed it to Karlee, who beamed. Then, he pulled the signed divorce decree from his jacket pocket and handed it to me.

Freedom. It felt like nothing but cold, empty paper.

As I turned to leave, Karlee' s voice, dripping with venom, stopped me.

"You know, your sister begged me to save her. Cried on the phone. It was pathetic."

It was another lie, a final, cruel twist of the knife. But it didn't matter anymore.