Chapter 2
I sprinted through the office parking lot like a woman possessed.
My heels clicked against the asphalt.
My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I thought it might break through.
I fumbled with my car keys, dropping them twice before I finally got the door open.
“Come on, come on,” I muttered, slamming the key into the ignition.
The engine roared to life.
I peeled out of the spot, tires screeching.
Twenty minutes.
That’s how long it would take me to get home.
Twenty minutes was an eternity.
I dialed Ethan again.
Straight to voicemail.
“Baby, please pick up,” I whispered, tears blurring my vision.
I texted him over and over.
“Ethan answer me.”
“Are you okay?”
“Mom is coming. Just stay quiet.”
Nothing.
No reply.
I pressed the gas harder, going fifteen miles over the speed limit.
Every red light felt like a personal attack.
Every slow car in front of me made me want to scream.
My mind raced through a thousand terrible scenarios.
What was Daniel doing to him right now?
Was he yelling?
Was he hurting him?
Was he destroying the phone?
I thought about Daniel’s temper.
I’d seen it before.
Never directed at Ethan, but I’d seen what he could do when he was angry.
Punches thrown at walls.
Doors ripped off hinges.
Objects shattered against the floor.
And now our son had caught him.
Recorded him.
Daniel had everything to lose.
The house.
The business.
His reputation.
And Ethan held all the proof in his hand.
I swerved through traffic, cutting off a truck that blared its horn at me.
I didn’t care.
Nothing mattered except getting to my son.
I called my best friend, Lisa.
She answered on the first ring.
“Sarah? What’s wrong? You sound—”
“Daniel is cheating,” I gasped. “Ethan caught him. Filmed it. Daniel saw him. I’m driving home right now and Ethan isn’t answering.”
Lisa didn’t hesitate.
“I’m five minutes from your house. I’m leaving now.”
“Thank you,” I sobbed. “Please hurry.”
“I’m already in my car. Sarah… do you want me to call the police?”
I hesitated.
The police.
If I called them, this became real.
Public.
Permanent.
But what if Daniel was hurting Ethan?
“I don’t know,” I said. “Not yet. Just get there. Please.”
“I’m on my way. Keep calling Ethan.”
She hung up.
I kept my thumb hovering over the dial button.
9-1-1.
Three numbers that would change everything.
I tried Ethan again.
Voicemail.
Again.
And again.
Each time that robotic voice told me my son wasn’t available, a little piece of me died.
I was ten minutes from home when my phone finally buzzed.
Ethan.
I answered so fast I nearly dropped the phone again.
“Ethan! Baby, are you okay?”
My voice cracked.
“I’m okay, Mom.”
His voice was small.
Scared.
But he was talking.
“Oh thank God. Where are you? What happened?”
“I’m in my room. Door locked. Dad… he banged on it for like five minutes. He kept yelling that I needed to open up and give him my phone.”
My blood turned to ice.
“Did he get in?”
“No. I pushed my dresser against it. He kept saying we needed to ‘talk like men.’ Mom… he sounded scary. Not like Dad at all.”
Tears streamed down my face.
“I know, baby. I know. I’m almost there. Lisa is coming too. Just stay behind that door. Don’t open it for anyone except me or Lisa. Do you understand?”
“I understand. Mom?”
“Yes?”
“The woman is still here. I heard her voice through the door. She was telling Dad to calm down. That I was just a kid and wouldn’t say anything.”
I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white.
She was still in my house.
Sitting on my couch.
Touching my things.
Talking about my son like he was an inconvenience.
“I’m five minutes away, Ethan. Five minutes. Keep the door locked. Keep your phone in your hand. If they try to get in again, you scream as loud as you can. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Stay on the phone with me, baby. Don’t hang up.”
“I won’t.”
I raced down our street.
Our perfect little suburban neighborhood with its perfect little houses and perfect little lawns.
None of it was real.
None of it had ever been real.
I turned onto our driveway.
Lisa’s car was already there, parked crookedly behind Daniel’s truck.
She was standing on the porch, her fist raised to knock.
“I’m here, Ethan. I’m pulling up right now.”
I threw the car into park and leaped out before it had even fully stopped.
Lisa turned toward me, her face pale.
“Sarah—”
“Is he okay? Did you hear anything?”
“I just got here. The door is locked. I rang the bell but no one answered.”
I ran up the steps and grabbed the doorknob.
Locked.
Of course it was locked.
I banged on the door with both fists.
“DANIEL! OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!”
Silence from inside.
“DANIEL! I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE! OPEN IT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I’M CALLING THE POLICE!”
Still nothing.
I looked at Lisa.
“Call them.”
She pulled out her phone.
And then the lock clicked.
The door swung open.
Daniel stood there.
His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar.
His hair was messy.
His face was flushed.
And behind him, standing in my living room, was her.
May you like
The woman from the video.
She was wearing my sweater.
