lia

errifying resolve. I had to disappear. Not just from Jacob, but from the world he inhabited. The thought of faking my own death

box. My heart, a skittish animal by now, leaped. I almost deleted it, fearing another attack

ttachments. My fingers were

he words, recognizing their coded language, the intimate jokes, the shared memories. My true love, my only one. Soon, we will be together

ical. Primary ovarian insufficiency. Prognosis: extremely unlikely to conceive naturally. This was it. The root of their twisted scheme

dio file. I pressed play, my h

lateral damage. A means to an end. She's fertile, cooperative, and frankly, she looks enough lik

owed. "But the baby, Jacob. It must be o

relia is just the incubator. We' ll make sure it looks like you. Bright eyes, fair hair. Everything you want

manipulation. My entire existence had been reduced to a biological function, my child a prize to be stolen. And the worst part? Jacob wanted my child to look like Kaleigh. He wanted to e

ven him, the unwavering loyalty, the love I had poured into a bottomless pit-it was all a grotesque farce. He h

" I whispered, my voice raw. "Well, Jacob Dickerson, this 'naive' wife is about to show you just how wrong yo

lled through my blocked numbers, found Jacob's,

was wary, laced with annoyance. "Aurelia? What do

ise, like dropping stones into a deep well. "I just heard the

e of breath. "What... what are you talking abo

like her. The one where you gloat about my naivety." My voice was a whisper, but it carried the weight of a death sentence. "Consider this my off

phone, severing the connection completely. The silence w

lity. I had no illusions about fighting Jacob in court. He had the money, t

tion. I found a discreet, cash-only private clinic on the outskirts of the city, a place that specialized in... arrangements. They facilitated new identities, provided m

f minor assets for quick money. I told my few remaining friends I was going abroad for an extended

every resource, every connection, to find me and

blurb, then picked up by the larger tabloids

an: Local Architect Aurelia Flyn

, charred piece of jewelry found in the debris, a platinum wedding band. The one I had deliberately left on the marble count

e, my eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses. I watched the news report on a small, flicker

life I had lost, but for the innocent woman I had once been, the woman who had

voice thick with emotion. "We're finally free. And no one will ever find us." We would start anew, far away from the monsters