Chapter 2

Vanessa moves closer to Ethan.

She lowers her voice, but not enough.

"I've handled plenty of separations. I've never seen a mother agree to leave her child this quickly."

I watch her face.

"She may have been planning this for a while," she adds. "A little boy would complicate things if there's someone else."

A short laugh escapes me.

Vanessa looks over.

Four years ago, she helped Ethan put together the agreement he wanted me to sign before the wedding.

She walked me through it with a sympathetic expression.

It's just to protect the family, Claire.

If you're faithful, none of this will ever matter.

Now she's carrying the paperwork out of a hotel room she somehow knew exactly when to enter.

Ethan steps toward me.

"Don't come crawling back."

"I won't."

"You say that now."

I look at him.

He used to wait outside my college library with coffee because I studied late.

When I told him our families were too different, he laughed.

Let me worry about my family.

I believed him eventually.

It took months.

Months of him promising I wouldn't have to spend my life proving I belonged beside him.

Now Vanessa touches his arm.

"Come on. She's made her choice."

At the door, she looks back at the sleeping man.

"We'll let you get back to your evening."

The door shuts.

I sit still until their footsteps fade.

I woke up nearly half an hour before they arrived.

Long enough to find my underwear on the floor.

Long enough to see a message light up on the stranger's phone.

Her husband's on his way. Stay where you are.

I could have run.

But I knew what would happen.

There would be photographs. A report from Vanessa. Another explanation Ethan wouldn't hear.

I was too tired to do it again.

The man shifts in his sleep.

I get out of bed.

My legs shake as I dress, but I manage the buttons.

Then I leave.

By the following evening, my key still works at the house.

For some reason, that surprises me.

I go upstairs.

My side of the closet is empty.

So are the drawers.

The moisturizer beside the sink is gone. The book on my nightstand. The slippers Noah gave me for Mother's Day, back when someone still helped him choose things for me.

Rosa stands in the doorway with a basket of clean towels.

"Where's my stuff?"

She looks down.

"Miss Shaw asked us to pack it."

"Where?"

"The storage room off the garage."

I wait.

"She said someone else would be using the bedroom."

For a moment, Rosa looks as though she wants to say more.

I shake my head.

"It's all right."

It isn't.

But she didn't do this.

The storage room smells of cardboard and furniture polish.

My clothes are stuffed into bags beneath a box of Christmas decorations.

A shoe has left a black mark across one of my sweaters.

I move it aside.

There's only one thing I need.

A small porcelain pendant, painted with blue flowers and set in a thin silver frame.

My grandmother gave it to my mother.

My mother gave it to me on my wedding day.

I wrapped it in red cloth before putting it away because the clasp needed fixing.

I search through two bags.

Then a third.

When I finally find the little bundle at the bottom of a box, I sit back on my heels.

For the first time since entering the house, I can breathe.

"What are you doing?"

Noah stands in the doorway.

His hair needs cutting.

I notice that before anything else.

I know exactly how it curls behind his ears when it gets too long.

"Getting my things."

Usually, I'd already be on my feet.

I'd ask about school. Reach for him. Pretend it didn't hurt if he pulled away.

This time, I fold the red cloth over the pendant.

"That's not yours."

He walks in and plants one sneaker on my sweater.

"Aunt Vanessa said everything here belongs to Daddy."