Chapter 3
I moved into a safe house two days after they released me from the hospital.
It was a cabin in the mountains, hours from Aspen, on land Jonathan had owned for decades.
No address listed under his name.
No cell service for ten miles.
High fences, armed security, cameras in every tree.
Jonathan said it was the safest place on earth for me and Liam.
I believed him.
The first week was hard.
My ribs ached with every breath.
My wrist was still in a cast.
I couldn’t tie my own shoes, couldn’t lift a glass of water with my left hand.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ethan’s face.
That cold, empty stare.
Felt his hands on my shoulders.
Felt the ground vanish beneath me.
I’d wake up screaming, hand clamped to my stomach, heart hammering so hard I thought it would break.
Jonathan was there every time.
He’d sit on the edge of my bed, talk to me in a low, calm voice until my breathing slowed.
Tell me stories about my mom.
About how they’d met in college, how she’d been the only person who ever told him no, how he’d loved her from the first second he saw her.
Those stories were the only thing that chased the nightmares away.
By the second week, I was strong enough to walk around the cabin.
Strong enough to sit in the living room and watch the news with Jonathan.
That’s when I saw him.
Ethan.
On every channel.
The perfect grieving husband.
He stood in front of our house, surrounded by cameras, wearing the black suit I’d bought him for our anniversary.
His eyes were red-rimmed.
His voice cracked when he spoke.
“Emily was the love of my life,” he told the reporter, wiping a fake tear from his cheek.
“Liam would have been our first child. I don’t know how I’ll go on without them.”
Behind him, Brittany stood, head bowed, hand on his arm.
Playing the heartbroken best friend.
The woman who’d held my hair back when I was sick, who’d helped me paint the nursery, who’d stood on that cliff and watched me fall.
I felt the blood drain from my face.
My hands curled into fists so tight my nails cut into my palms.
“How can he do that?” I whispered.
“How can he stand there and lie like that?”
Jonathan’s jaw tightened.
“Because he thinks he got away with it,” he said.
“Because he’s already spent the first ten million of the payout. The bank transferred it to his account yesterday.”
Ten million dollars.
Blood money.
Money he’d gotten for throwing me and my son off a cliff.
I watched as the camera panned to the crowd behind Ethan.
Neighbors, friends, people I’d known for years.
All of them crying, hugging him, telling him how sorry they were.
No one suspected a thing.
To the world, Ethan Carter was a saint.
A man who’d lost everything in a terrible accident.
The next day, Jonathan’s team sent over a folder full of photos.
Ethan and Brittany, shopping for a new mansion.
A six-bedroom house with a pool, a guest house, a garage big enough for ten cars.
The down payment?
Exactly nine point nine million dollars.
Photos of them at a luxury car dealership, driving off in a brand-new Ferrari.
Photos of them at a fancy restaurant in Aspen, laughing, drinking champagne, kissing like they didn’t have a care in the world.
Like they hadn’t left me for dead in the snow.
I flipped through the photos, one by one.
Each one burned a hole in my chest.
But I didn’t cry.
I didn’t scream.
I just made a mental note of every date, every time, every place.
Saved them all in a file on my laptop, labeled with Ethan’s name.
Jonathan watched me, a proud glint in his eye.
“You’re getting stronger,” he said.
I nodded.
“I have to,” I said.
“For Liam.”
That night, I felt the first real contraction.
Sharp, low in my stomach.
I froze, hand on my belly.
It was too soon.
Liam wasn’t due for another three weeks.
The doctor had said the stress of the fall could make him come early, but I’d hoped…
Another contraction hit, harder this time.
I called for Jonathan.
He was in my room in ten seconds flat, phone already in his hand, calling the private doctor he had on standby.
“It’s okay,” he said, kneeling beside me, wiping the sweat from my forehead.
“You’re okay. Liam’s okay. We’ve got the best doctor in the state on her way. Just breathe, baby. Breathe.”
I clung to his hand, breathing through the pain.
For the first time since the cliff, I didn’t feel scared.
I felt ready.
Ready to meet my son.
Ready to start the rest of our lives.
Ready to make Ethan pay for every second of pain he’d caused us.
Outside, the wind howled through the trees.
But inside the cabin, it was warm.
Safe.
I had my dad.
I had my son, about to be born.
And I had a plan.
May you like
Ethan thought he’d won.
But he had no idea the storm that was coming for him.
