Chapter 2

We met in a group home, Mark and I.

Both of us adrift, two broken pieces that somehow fit.

I was Evie then, just Evie. No Dr. Hayes, no future. Just a girl bounced from one foster family to another.

My adoptive parents came later. They gave me a room, clothes, food. Material things.

But when their own biological child arrived, a perfect little boy, I became a shadow in their perfect family picture. An outsider, again.

Mark understood that feeling. He'd had it rougher, in some ways. No adoption, just aging out of the system.

He was driven, though. Fiercely intelligent. He wanted more than the hand life had dealt him.

History. He loved it. He devoured books, talked about changing the world by understanding its past.

He worked three jobs to get through college, then grad school.

I remembered him studying under a dim streetlight outside the group home, his face intense.

When we reconnected after college, it felt like fate.

He was a university history professor by then. Polished, respected.

He pursued me with a gentle determination that soothed the old hurts.

He even won over my adoptive parents. A feat I'd never managed.

They saw his ambition, his stability. He was "a good match" for their adopted daughter who always seemed a little… off.

He' d sit in their stiff living room, discussing politics with my adoptive father, laughing at his jokes.

He' d compliment my adoptive mother' s terrible cooking.

He wanted their approval, for me. He said it would make things easier.

Our wedding was small but perfect, or so I thought.

We stood under an oak tree, vows we wrote ourselves, promising to be the family we never had.

"A real family, Evie," he' d whispered, his eyes shining. "No more being on the outside."

We planned for this baby. A symbol of that promise. A new beginning, a stable home built on love and shared understanding.

The tattoo Chloe showed me, our anniversary date, was meant to be ours.

Now, it was a brand. A mark of his betrayal, shared with a student.

The loving husband cooking dinner in our kitchen, humming a cheerful tune, was a stranger.

A very convincing actor.

But I knew about actors. I' d been playing a part my whole life.