Chapter 3
The house was warm when we stepped inside.
Too warm.
Diane sat at the kitchen table, a glass of wine in one hand, the diamond bracelet in the other.
I froze.
“Found it,” she said, not looking up. “In the pocket of your winter coat, Emily. Right where you hid it.”
My blood ran cold.
“I haven’t worn that coat in three months. We packed it in boxes after the flood.”
She lifted the bracelet, letting the diamonds catch the light.
“Funny how it ended up there then, isn’t it?”
Ethan stepped between us.
“Mom, enough.”
“Enough? She steals from me, locks herself in my kennel for attention, turns my grandson against me—and you say enough?”
She stood up, swaying slightly.
The wine was hitting her hard.
“I want her out of my house by morning,” she said. “Both of you. And Noah stays here with me where he belongs.”
“Like hell he does,” Ethan said.
Diane smiled.
It was the same smile she’d given me through the kennel bars.
“Really? Because I already called my lawyer. He’s drawing up temporary custody papers as we speak. After all… who would a judge believe? A respected widow with a spotless record in this community? Or a thief who locks herself in dog cages and coaches her own child to lie?”
She looked right at me.
“Especially when the child’s own father has a history of… instability.”
Ethan went rigid beside me.
“Don’t,” he said. His voice was barely a whisper.
“Don’t what, dear? Tell your wife about your little breakdown after your father died? About the six months you spent in that nice hospital upstate? About how you couldn’t even hold Noah when he was a baby because you were so scared you’d hurt him?”
The room spun.
I looked at my husband.
The man I’d been married to for thirteen years.
I knew he’d had a rough time after his dad passed.
But a hospital? Six months?
He’d told me he was working on a pipeline project in Alaska.
“Ethan?”
He didn’t look at me.
“Mom, please.”
“Or should I tell her about the other women?” Diane purred. “The ones you saw when you were married to your first wife? The ones you still message late at night when you think she’s asleep?”
That was a lie.
It had to be.
But Ethan still didn’t deny it.
He just stood there, shoulders hunched, defeated.
“You’re drunk, Mom,” he said. “Go to bed.”
She drained her wine glass and set it down hard enough to make the silverware jump.
“By morning,” she said. “Gone. Or I file the papers. And I take everything. The house, the insurance money, your son. You’ll be lucky if you get to see him on Christmas.”
She turned and walked up the stairs, her footsteps heavy on the hardwood.
The second she was gone, I rounded on Ethan.
“Hospital? First wife? Other women? What the hell is she talking about?”
He sank into a kitchen chair and put his head in his hands.
“Start talking,” I said. “Now.”
He looked up, and his eyes were red.
“I was married before. Sarah. We were nineteen. Stupid kids. She left me when Noah was six months old. Said I couldn’t hold a job, couldn’t keep it together.”
He paused, swallowing hard.
“Then Dad died. Car crash. Hit by a drunk driver. Mom… she didn’t handle it well. She blamed me. Said if I’d gone with him that day, he’d still be alive. I lost it. Started drinking. Blackouts. One night I… I broke everything in the living room. Noah was there. He was only two. He saw it all.”
My chest hurt.
“So Mom called the doctors. They put me away for a while. Six months. Got me sober. Got me on meds. I met you at AA, remember? I told you I was there for… stress. I didn’t lie. Not exactly. I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
He reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
“The other women?”
He flinched.
“Sarah. I still talk to her sometimes. About Noah. She’s been clean for five years now. She wants to be part of his life. I didn’t tell you because… I knew you’d be hurt. I knew you’d think I was hiding something.”
“Because you WERE hiding something, Ethan! All of this! You’ve been lying to me since the day we met!”
“I was protecting you!”
“FROM WHAT? FROM YOURSELF?”
The words hung in the air between us.
He flinched like I’d slapped him.
Down the hall, the floor creaked.
Diane was listening.
I lowered my voice.
“Is that why you brought us here? Not because of the flood. Because you needed her money. Because you’re still on her leash.”
He didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
“Get up,” I said.
“Emily—”
“GET UP. We’re leaving. Right now. I don’t care about the lawyers. I don’t care about custody. We will sleep in the damn truck before we spend another night under her roof.”
He stood slowly.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay. Let me get Noah’s things.”
We moved through the house like thieves in the night.
Ethan packed two duffel bags while I woke Noah.
“Mom? Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe, baby. Come on.”
We were halfway down the stairs when the lights came on.
Diane stood at the bottom, fully dressed, her phone pressed to her ear.
“Yes,” she said into the phone. “They’re trying to leave now. With my grandson. I’m afraid for his safety. Yes, that address. Hurry please.”
She hung up and smiled at us.
“The police are on their way,” she said. “I told them you kidnapped Noah. That you’ve been abusing him. That the bruise on your face is from him defending himself against you.”
Noah whimpered and pressed closer to me.
“You’re crazy,” I said.
“Am I? Or am I a grieving widow who’s done nothing but take in her ungrateful family? Who do you think they’ll believe, Emily? A woman with no job, no money, no family in this state? Or me?”
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Getting closer.
Ethan dropped the bags.
“Mom, don’t do this.”
“Then apologize,” she said. “Both of you. Apologize, and we forget this ever happened. We’re family. Families forgive.”
The sirens were right outside now.
Lights flashed through the front windows, painting the walls red and blue.
May you like
Diane opened her arms.
“Well?”
