Chapter 5

"I don't need you to bring me home!" The anger I'd been holding back finally broke loose. "Anderson, I want my mother's bracelet. Give it back to me —"

He hung up before I could finish.

The steady beeping of a dead line filled my ear.

It felt like the ground had dropped out from under me.

Laura was sobbing with rage. "He's unbelievable. How dare he do this to you — he's going to get what's coming to him, I swear —"

[Bang.]

Before she could finish, a truck ahead of us jackknifed and triggered a chain-reaction collision.

Our wedding car got pinned between two other vehicles.

Laura and I were trapped in our seats, unable to move.

The truck in front caught fire. The flames were already spreading toward us.

Anderson saw what happened. He threw open his car door and sprinted toward us.

Then, from behind him, Mia screamed. "Anderson! My head — I'm bleeding — there's so much blood!"

He stopped dead.

Without a moment's hesitation, he turned back.

"Anderson!"

I tore the words from my throat. "If you walk away right now — if you choose her — then everything between us, every single year we had together, is over!"

He hesitated.

Then he turned away.

"Lisa," he said. "Mia isn't strong. I have to get her to a hospital first."

Ten years ago, under the moonlight, he had made me a promise: "Lisa, no matter what happens, you will always be my first choice."

Ten years later, he was saying: "Mia isn't strong. I have to get her to a hospital first."

Over a decade of being each other's everything, and it all meant less than a woman who had shown up out of nowhere.

I watched him walk away without looking back.

In that moment, something crystallized inside me.

It didn't matter where I ended up. Anywhere was better than here.

Mia had a mild concussion and was kept at the hospital for observation.

Anderson stayed by her side the entire night.

When he woke up the next morning, a dull ache was already gnawing at his lower back.

Out of habit, he called out: "Lisa, my back is acting up again. Come help me up."

The words had barely left his mouth before he remembered.

Lisa wasn't there.

One of his friends had told him — Lisa had been pulled from the wreck by people from the Brown estate and brought safely into their household.

Anderson felt hollowed out.

He'd heard the Brown family was heading up to their ancestral burial grounds that day for a memorial. He couldn't stop thinking about Lisa. He had to see for himself that she was okay.

He followed them from a distance.

At the cemetery, he spotted her from afar.

She wasn't causing a scene. She stood quietly among the family gathered for the ceremony, pouring water for old Mr. Brown, who sat in a wheelchair.

Something uncomfortable twisted in his chest.

He told himself: once the old man dies, he would bring Lisa home. He would never let her be treated poorly again.

On his way back down the hill, he caught a fragment of conversation between two of the Brown household staff.

"The new wife was crying out all night in the bridal suite. I was standing right outside — I didn't know where to look."

"First night of marriage. That kind of passion is normal."

Anderson stopped in his tracks.

All night?

A ninety-year-old man?

He stood there, dazed, as a tall young man walked past him — close enough to brush his shoulder.

Anderson turned to look. Something about the man nagged at him. He was certain he'd seen him somewhere before.

Then he noticed what the man was holding, and Anderson went completely rigid.

"Wait."