Chapter 2

Through the closed door, the servants' whispers carried with shameless clarity:

"Mr. Reynold absolutely dotes on Ethan—tomorrow's adoption gala is going to be even grander than his wedding to the missus."

"I'll say. Mr. Reynold took the helicopter to Paris last night just to pick up a custom Dior suit for the boy."

I leaned against the cold wall.

I thought of that winter night in the federal women's prison. A hundred-and-four-degree fever, dragging my ruined leg, pounding on the iron door all night long begging for help.

That same night, every major news outlet and TikTok feed in America was running footage of Julian at an auction, bidding a fortune on jewels for Sophia.

The gossip outside my door continued:

"But isn't tomorrow Leo's anniversary?"

"Well, Vivian never had Mr. Reynold's heart, did she? Looks like Ethan's going to be the heir from now on."

My nails dug crescents into my palms.

Before long, the door opened.

Julian carried in a glass of warm milk and set it on the nightstand.

"Vivian, I've already contacted the top orthopedic specialist in the country."

"Your leg can still be saved. Next week I'll have the jet take you for reconstructive surgery."

He reached out, fingers moving to stroke my hair. I slapped his hand away.

The mask of tenderness vanished from Julian's face in an instant:

"Vivian, I've gone out of my way for you at every turn. Found you the best doctors in the world."

"How much longer are you going to keep up this irrational nonsense?"

I looked up, my stare cutting through him: "Having thugs break my leg—that was going out of your way for me?"

"Using your power to shield the woman who murdered our son—that was going out of your way for me?"

Julian rubbed his temples, his voice saturated with exhaustion and exasperation:

"You're the one who ruined Leo! A child that young, pointing at someone's face and cursing at them in public!"

"All Sophia did was give him a little shove. Who could've predicted a shallow lake would actually drown someone?"

"To this day, Sophia's still seeing a therapist. She tortures herself over it every single day! You can't pin all the blame on an innocent person!"

To protect a murderer, Julian was willing to throw dirt on a five-year-old corpse.

I thought of when I was eighteen.

Kneeling in the blood-soaked floor of a tenement apartment, my father's murdered body at my feet, my mother's wrists slit open beside him.

Julian burst through the door and pulled me—shattered, hopeless—into his arms: "Don't be afraid… From now on, you have me. I'll protect you with my life."

Every vow, every whispered promise—all of it had rotted into a stinking pool of dead water.

"Julian, let's get a divorce. I'll set you free."

"I don't want anything except Leo's ashes."

Julian's face went terrifyingly dark:

"Divorce? Keep dreaming."

"Tomorrow's adoption gala—you will be there as the lady of the Reynold family."

"Otherwise you'll never learn where Leo's ashes are."

He released me abruptly and stormed out, slamming the door.

I stumbled out of the room, half-running down the corridor until I stopped in front of a painfully familiar door at the end of the hall.

I pushed it open. What had once been Leo's nursery was now filled with girls' children's clothing, gowns, and an entire wall of Hermès bags.

On the wall hung an enormous portrait—Sophia and Ethan, mother and son.

This room… had become their personal closet.

"Like what you see?"

Sophia leaned against the doorframe, swirling a glass of red wine, her eyes glittering with amusement.

"When Leo fell into the water, he kept crying and calling for his mommy."

"I'm the one who pushed him back under every time he tried to climb out."

"It took him a full five minutes to stop struggling. When he finally died, his eyes were open so, so wide…"

I raised my hand and swung at her face with every shred of remaining strength.

Sophia didn't flinch. The corner of her mouth curled upward.

The next instant—searing pain exploded through the back of my skull.

I crashed to the ground. The world went black.

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