Chapter 2

The next morning at six, I was jolted awake by a knock on the bedroom door.

It was Jody, the housekeeper. "Mrs. Francis, your husband is home."

I blinked.

He wasn't supposed to be back today.

Before I could react, Corey was already standing in the doorway. Behind him — Amy Turner and Carol Sharp, the company's PR manager.

Amy was dressed in a crisp blazer, eyes red-rimmed and glistening. "Melissa, how could you post something like that? Do you have any idea what people are saying about me online? I...I can't even leave my house..."

I leaned back against the headboard, watching her trembling-lip routine, and let out a quiet laugh. "Oh, that statement? I just threw it together. Didn't expect you to take it so personally."

"Melissa!" Corey's voice was barely contained fury. "You're going to delete that statement right now. Then you're posting a new one — say the account was hacked. Say none of it came from you."

I didn't respond.

Carol pulled a document from her briefcase and handed it over. "Mrs. Francis, the PR team drafted a new statement. You just need to sign."

I took it and skimmed through.

Professional wording. Pinned everything on a hacked account.

"Get yourself ready," Corey said, his voice dropping another degree. "The company's holding a press conference at two. You'll be there with me. You don't have to say a word — just stand next to me and smile. The rumors will die on their own."

I looked up at him. "You want me to pretend none of this ever happened?"

His expression darkened. "I'm not asking."

"I know," I said, the smile fading from my face. "But I'm done performing for you."

I thought saying that would shake something loose in him. Guilt. Shame. Anything.

But he just stood there, looking down at me with something close to impatience. Like I was the one being unreasonable.

I thought about how he got me here. Step by step. Lie by lie.

In the beginning, it was "Amy's just a fresh grad, don't overthink it."

Then it became "She's good at her job. It's normal for me to look out for her."

And then — she had a key to Moristero Manor. My grandmother's jade pendant showed up around her neck. And I lost three babies.

He played both sides flawlessly. Not a single crack I could find.

Until the week before his trip — the company's anniversary gala.

I went upstairs to the lounge to find him. The door wasn't fully closed. I heard him inside, drinking with his buddies.

"Corey, you lost another bet to Amy? What was it this time?"

His voice, careless and loose: "Bet on how long it'd take Melissa to forgive me for skipping her birthday. I said one day. Amy said one hour. I lost."

He took a drag of his cigarette, voice lazy with alcohol: "Melissa's great, just... boring as hell. Feed her a couple sweet lines and she buys every excuse I give her. Nothing special in bed either... Last time I took her family's jade pendant — told her some bullshit about a business partner who's obsessed with occult, said wearing it would ward off bad luck — and she actually believed me."

Laughter erupted around him.

"Good thing you never actually filed that marriage certificate. You'd be kicking yourself right now. But seriously — Amy's way more fun. You're not going to make it official with her?"

"...maybe. Mrs. Francis? That spot fits someone like Melissa better. Doesn't make waves, doesn't make a fuss."

The laughter died down, and then he lowered his voice. "But this time — we can't mess with her body again over a lost bet. Three miscarriages because of me losing to Amy... one more and her body's really going to give out."

I stood outside that door, and the cold seeped straight into my bones.

In that one moment, everything clicked into place.

...

The memory faded. I watched Corey walk slowly toward me.

Then he smiled.

"Melissa, your parents' ashes — they're at Rosendale Cemetery, aren't they?"