Chapter 3

Dick Underwood had been David' s mentor in law school. Karyn had been a permanent fixture at David' s side long before he and I were ever married. She' d made no secret of her infatuation with him, and I' d be lying if I said it never bothered me.

"She' s just a kid, Eva," David would say, laughing it off. "Her father is important to me. I have to be nice to her. It means nothing."

I had believed him. I had trusted him, even when he stood in court and called me a negligent mother, a hysterical woman, a criminal. I had believed there was some other reason, some hidden truth I couldn' t see.

Now I saw it all with perfect, horrifying clarity. Their affair had likely been going on for years.

I couldn' t bear to sleep in our bed that night. I took a blanket and curled up on the cold, hard floor of Leo' s empty room. The lingering scent of fresh paint was sharp and sterile.

At some point in the night, I must have drifted off. When I woke, another blanket, a soft cashmere one from our bed, was draped over me.

David.

The gesture was so reminiscent of the man I had married, the man who would tuck me in if I fell asleep on the couch. For a moment, my heart ached with a phantom pain of what we' d lost.

Then the bitterness returned. He was still playing a part. This was just another calculated move in his long, twisted game.

I shoved the blanket away as if it were contaminated. It landed in a heap in the corner.

My burner phone buzzed. A text from Cheri.

Making progress. A former driver of Karyn' s is willing to talk. Might have info on the car from that day. You should see if you can find anything in the house. Be careful.

I looked toward the master bedroom. Toward David' s study. Yes. I would find something.

I went downstairs. The sound of cheerful laughter stopped me at the bottom of the staircase.

Karyn was there. In my kitchen. She was wrapped in David' s arms, her head thrown back in a joyous laugh. He was kissing her neck, and the bright red smear of her lipstick on his skin was like a brand.

I gripped the banister, my knuckles white. The image was a punch to the gut.

"Karyn," I said, my voice tight. "What are you doing here?"

David turned, pulling away from her slightly. He had the decency to look uncomfortable.

"Eva. Karyn was just... she helped a lot while you were away. With the house."

"She came to visit me in prison, too," Karyn added, her voice sickly sweet. "And she went to see Leo every year on his birthday. We even had a ceremony to make her his godmother, didn't we, David?"

The blood in my veins felt like it was flowing backward, rushing to my head in a hot, dizzying wave.

"You have no right," I seethed, "to even say his name. A killer has no right to mourn the one they killed."

David wouldn' t meet my eyes. He stared at a point over my shoulder. "We had a priest bless the arrangement, Eva. We thought it would bring him peace."

The world went silent. The air crackled with the sheer, blasphemous horror of his words. My blood felt like it had turned to shards of ice, scraping the inside of my veins. I was in so much pain, I couldn' t even speak.

Karyn, seeing her victory, walked toward me, holding a bouquet of lilies. Their cloying scent made my skin crawl.

"Congratulations on getting out, Eva," she purred. "On starting your new life."

I slapped the flowers out of her hand. The petals scattered across the floor. I wanted to scream, to tear her apart, but I was too drained, too empty.

"Don' t you look tired," Karyn said, her eyes glinting. "Inmate 734. I guess prison life doesn' t agree with everyone."

The number. My number.

"Present," I answered automatically.

The response was a conditioned reflex, beaten into me over three years of roll calls and head counts.

Karyn let out a shrill, triumphant laugh. "Oh, I' m just teasing! You' re so sensitive."

David' s brow furrowed. "Karyn, that' s enough."

"Oh, stop it, you," she said, playfully swatting his chest. They flirted in front of me, a casual, cruel display of their intimacy.

I remembered the box of lingerie in my nightstand. The coldness in my soul solidified into a block of solid ice.

That evening, I met Cheri at a quiet diner downtown. The torment had to stop. I needed to get away from them, but I couldn't leave without justice for Leo.

"You look terrible, Eva," Cheri said, her face etched with worry. She pushed a glass of water toward me.

"You should come stay with me. You can' t be in that house with him."

"No," I said, my voice firm. "I have to stay. It' s the only way to find evidence. The closer I am to them, the better."

Just then, the diner door opened, and a familiar, grating voice cut through the low hum of conversation.

Karyn. She was holding the hand of her son.

My eyes were involuntarily drawn to the boy. He had David' s walk. He looked so much like Leo at that age.

Karyn saw me looking. She pulled the boy behind her, shielding him as if I were some kind of monster.

Then, she spoke, her voice loud enough for the entire diner to hear.

"Stay away from that woman, honey. She' s a killer. She murdered her own little boy."

The diner fell silent. Every head turned to stare at me. Karyn sauntered over to our table, a smug smile on her face.

"So, 734, how are you adjusting to life on the outside? Is the food better? Are the beds softer?"