Chapter 1 - Just as I Thought
The first thing Amanda Whitman heard when the front door opened was Ethan crying.
She dropped her suitcase.
Her four-year-old son was curled beside the white sofa in dinosaur pajamas, one sock missing, his small hands wrapped around his shoulder.
Standing above him was Tyler Carter.
Nine years old.
Dark T-shirt.
Jeans.
A short piece of wood clenched in his hand.
“This isn’t your house!”
Amanda moved before she thought.
“STAY AWAY FROM HIM!”
She grabbed Tyler by the shoulders, pulled him away from Ethan and knocked the wood onto the marble floor.
Then she dropped beside her son.
“Ethan. Look at Mommy.”
He buried his face against her.
“Mommy…”
Amanda checked his arm and shoulder. A faint red mark was forming, but nothing appeared seriously injured.
Then footsteps came hard across the marble.
Richard.
Her husband.
The man who had told Amanda three weeks earlier that he needed “space” while she took Ethan to stay with her sister.
Except Richard wasn’t alone.
Brooke Carter stood near the fireplace in a tight red dress.
Amanda knew Brooke.
Everyone did.
Richard’s “business consultant.”
And Tyler’s mother.
Richard looked at Tyler first.
Not Ethan.
“DON’T TOUCH THAT BOY!”
Amanda slowly raised her head.
For a moment she couldn’t speak.
Then she looked down at her trembling four-year-old.
“WHAT ABOUT YOUR SON?!”
Richard went silent.
Brooke pulled Tyler against herself.
“You’d better teach your son some manners.”
Something inside Amanda became very still.
Three weeks away.
A mistress in her living room.
Her son being told his own home wasn’t his.
And Richard defending someone else’s child before checking Ethan.
Amanda stood.
Brooke stepped closer.
“Richard pays for everything.”
Amanda laughed.
“With whose money?”
She slapped Brooke.
Brooke stumbled sideways.
Richard’s confidence disappeared.
And then—
his eyes moved.
Only for a second.
Toward the family photograph beside the fireplace.
Amanda saw it.
So did Brooke.
Interesting.
Amanda pulled Ethan behind her and walked to the portrait.
Richard immediately stepped forward.
“Amanda.”
She lifted one corner.
Dark metal appeared behind the frame.
A wall safe.
Richard’s face turned white.
Amanda stared at him.
“Just as I thought.”
Brooke’s expression changed too.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
Amanda slowly lowered the portrait again without opening the safe.
Because two weeks earlier, while staying with her sister, she had received an anonymous message consisting of only seven words:
IF RICHARD LOOKS AT THE PICTURE, DON’T OPEN IT.
Amanda had thought it was nonsense.
Now she looked at Richard.
“Who told you I found it?”
Richard’s lips parted.
Brooke answered instead.
“No one was supposed to know that safe existed.”
May you like
Amanda’s stomach tightened.
Because she had never told either of them that she knew.
