Chapter 1

The last thing I saw was the cracked ceiling of my apartment, water dripping into a rusted pot.

My chest ached, a sharp, final pain.

Sophia' s face flashed in my mind, laughing, not with me, but with Leo.

Her divorce papers were on the table, a "formality," she' d said.

A formality while I rotted in this Rust Belt town, coding her dream into reality, eating ramen noodles.

She was in Silicon Valley, living it up.

Leo, her handsome Head of Marketing, was living it up with her.

My Tesla, she' d called the down payment a company expense. It was his.

His condo, too.

I died knowing that. Anger and regret were my only companions.

Then, light.

Not heavenly, just the dim bulb of my rundown apartment.

I sat bolt upright in my lumpy bed.

My heart hammered, but not with pain. With shock.

The calendar on the wall: yesterday' s date.

The day after Sophia called, her voice smooth, telling me about the "divorce for show."

"Just to appease the investors, Ethan. Leo feels insecure, you know how it is."

I knew now.

I knew everything. The affair, the stolen money, the lies.

My death. Her betrayal.

This time, things would be different.

My hands didn't shake. They were steady.

I stood up, my legs surprisingly strong.

No more waiting. No more believing her lies.

I pulled out my worn wallet. Enough for a bus ticket.

One way to Silicon Valley.

My intellectual property, my years of unpaid labor, my life. I was coming to reclaim it.

I packed a small bag. My old laptop, a change of clothes.

The clothes were cheap, worn, just like my life had become.

I remembered college. Sophia, so bright, so ambitious.

She had the ideas, I had the coding skills.

"We're a team, Ethan," she' d said, her eyes shining.

I believed her.

We married young, full of dreams.

Her app, "Elysian," a social media lifestyle platform. It was my baby too.

I built the core, the engine, the features that made it unique.

From this very apartment, fueled by cheap coffee and her promises.

"Once we get funding, you'll join me in California. We'll have a beautiful house, Ethan."

The funding came. She moved. I stayed.

"Just a little longer, baby," she'd coo over the phone. "I need you to keep the backend solid. You're my rock."

Her rock, buried under the weight of her ambition.

The bus ride was long, cramped. I didn't sleep.

I replayed every conversation, every broken promise, every lie.

The knowledge of the future was a cold fire in my gut.