Chapter 1 - The Coldest Night
The freezing rain turned the front porch into a slick, treacherous stage.
My fingers were white, clamped around the sodden blanket shielding Lily from the gale.
Four days ago, I had been in a hospital bed, marveling at the miracle of her breath.
Now, I was a ghost at my own threshold.
Jack’s betrayal hadn't been a sudden explosion; it was a meticulous, cold-blooded demolition of my life.
The deadbolt gleamed—a new, silver barrier to my own home.
“Jack!” I shrieked again, my voice tearing at my throat.
Inside, the house remained a tomb.
Then, the curtain twitched.
Lorraine stood there, sipping her tea, her expression untouched by human empathy.
My phone vibrated against my hip.
Lorraine: Wait outside where you belong.
The message was a death sentence to my dignity.
I remembered the pharmacy excuse.
He had sent me outside for a “quiet conversation.”
He had sent me into the rain while I was still healing, vulnerable and exhausted.
Then came the notification.
The nursery camera, which I was told was broken, flickered to life.
I watched, frozen, as Lorraine dumped Lily’s clothes into a black trash bag like she was disposing of refuse.
A man in a dark suit was with her, arranging papers on the changing table.
“By the time Jack lands, she’ll look unstable, homeless, and unfit,” Lorraine said, her voice crackling through the monitor.
“Good,” the man agreed. “Once she signs the custody papers, the house and trust will be ours.”
I held my breath, watching the screen.
Then, a shadow moved across the nursery wall.
A tall figure stepped into the light of the changing table, a figure with a distinct, jagged scar running across his temple.
My blood ran cold.
That man was Marcus.
Marcus, who had died in a car wreck two years ago.
Marcus, who was Jack’s best friend.
May you like
He leaned toward the camera, his eyes locking onto the lens with predatory intensity.
“Sarah,” he whispered, his voice vibrating through my phone. “Don’t bother running. We’re watching you.”
