Chapter 3

3

I put on my pearl earrings and strolled into the living room.

“Mrs. Peterson, I…” Sarah began, looking flustered.

“It’s fine, Sarah. Please, stay. I know that three-hour bus ride each way is exhausting.” I slipped on my shoes, offered by the housekeeper. “Don't feel awkward. I'm glad you’re back.”

Alex stared at me, surprised. When Dad got drunk and mumbled Sarah's name, Mom would cry. This wasn’t the first time Alex had seen Sarah. He’d found a picture of her tucked away in his dad’s drawer and heard him whisper her name in his sleep. He thought he'd found the perfect weapon to punish me. But it wasn’t working.

“I want ice cream! Ten scoops!” he demanded.

The only response was the sound of the front door closing behind me. I hadn’t had a chance to pamper myself during my hospital stay. It was time for a spa day. My driver was already waiting.

Inside, Alex’s forced cheerfulness evaporated. “Bring me the ice cream,” he mumbled to the housekeeper.

When she returned with a bowl, he shoved it to the floor. He stared at the closed door, a worried frown creasing his brow. Had his mom really forgotten him?

Mark’s mother, Eleanor, arrived with bags overflowing with designer goods after hearing about Sarah’s return and her new job as Alex’s piano teacher.

“Sarah, dear, you’ve been through so much,” Eleanor said, clutching Sarah’s hands. “If only you had married Mark in the first place. With his help, your family business wouldn’t have gone under.”

Sarah looked uncomfortable. “Eleanor, please. What’s done is done. I’m grateful to Mark for giving me this opportunity.”

Eleanor lowered her voice. “Mark’s filing for divorce, you know. The timing… well, it speaks for itself, doesn’t it? Don’t you worry. Even Alex adores you. You’ll be happy here. And Mark will help your family get back on their feet.”

Eleanor hadn’t bothered to inform me of her visit, even though she knew I was home. I stayed out of sight, not wanting to interrupt their reunion. It wasn’t just Mark and Alex who adored Sarah. Eleanor did too. She’d wanted Sarah as a daughter-in-law from the start. Sarah came from a good family, a perfect match for the Petersons. And Mark was head over heels for her. Eleanor had been delighted, eager to arrange a marriage.

But Sarah hadn’t felt the same way about Mark. She’d politely declined his proposal and gone to Europe to pursue her music career. Eleanor was disappointed, but she respected Sarah’s ambition.

As for me, I was just a girl from a modest background, a social climber desperate to marry into money. I could sense Eleanor’s disdain, masked by a veneer of politeness. Sometimes I wondered if everyone would have been happier if Sarah had married Mark.

My phone buzzed. A text message informed me that the insurance settlement from the accident had been deposited. I thought the trauma would make me forget the details of that day, but it was all still so vivid.

The torrential rain. Mark and I on the highway. The phone call. I’d heard the panicked voice on the other end. "Mr. Peterson, there's a group of debt collectors harassing Ms. Miller at her family home."

Mark had glanced at me, not for permission, but to inform me he was going to Sarah. We were heading in the opposite direction.

"Just drop me off at the next rest stop," I’d said quietly. "I'll take a cab home."

The moment I stepped out of the car, the rain soaked me, despite my umbrella. Mark’s black Bentley sped past, splashing muddy water on me. The rusted remains of our relationship mirrored the dreary weather.

The cab I’d hailed was old and poorly maintained. On the slick highway, the driver lost control. In the heart-stopping moment before impact, I fumbled for the seatbelt, my mind racing.

Bang. My head slammed against the window.