Chapter 4

The chat exploded instantly.

—*Does this scumbag even deserve oxygen?! If I were Olivia, I would've cashed out his assets the day he flatlined and left him to rot in that bed!*

—*Can someone put him out of his misery?! She literally kept him alive, and not only does he accuse her, he's actively hitting her! Where are the cops?! This is straight-up domestic violence, arrest him already!*

Ethan leaned in toward the lens, screaming like a wounded animal. "What the fuck do you people know?! She isn't my wife! She's a fake! Do you think I wouldn't recognize my own wife?!"

After his deranged outburst, he slammed the stream shut. Turning around, he lunged at me, his fingers locking around my throat like iron bands. "What kind of freak are you?! Where is my wife?! Give her back to me!"

He had completely snapped. His fingers squeezed tighter and tighter, crushing my windpipe.

Even though his muscles had atrophied over three years, he was still a grown man. No matter how wildly I thrashed and clawed at his hands, I couldn't break his hold. A faint, strangled wheeze squeezed past my lips:

"Ethan... please... calm down..."

Black spots swam across my vision. Just as darkness threatened to pull me under, the apartment door crashed open. His parents rushed in with two police officers and tackled him off me.

I collapsed onto the floor, clutching my bruised throat and gasping violently for air.

By the time I caught my breath, Ethan was pinned facedown, his hands cuffed behind his back.

His mother wiped her tears, her voice cracking with heartbreak and bitter resolve. "Ethan, we didn't want to call the police on our own boy, but you've gone too far! We can't watch you twenty-four hours a day, and we won't let you beat Olivia half to death! Maybe a few months behind bars will force you to get your head straight!"

Despite the steel cuffs biting into his wrists, Ethan thrashed wildly on the carpet. "I can't go to jail!"

"Mom! Dad! If they lock me up, no one will ever find the real Olivia! I'm your son—why won't you believe me?! She isn't Olivia! She really isn't Olivia!"

One of the officers cut him off sharply. "Shut it! Stand up!"

"You might not even end up in jail. If the psychiatric evaluation comes back positive, you're going straight to a mandatory mental health facility."

Ethan fought back even harder, his voice screeching. "I'm not crazy! I swear to God I'm not crazy!"

Watching him unravel on the floor, my eyes welled with fresh tears, looking every bit the heartbroken wife.

No one in the room paid any attention to his raving anymore. His mother walked over, taking my trembling hands into hers. "Olivia, I know how much you love him. I know it tears you apart to see him like this, but you can't be soft-hearted right now."

"For the sake of your future, we have to force him into treatment. Medicine is advanced these days; whatever damage his brain took during those three years, the doctors will fix it!"

I clenched my fists, hesitating with a look of profound sorrow before finally giving a slow, reluctant nod.

Just as the officers escorted Ethan toward the front door, his phone suddenly rang in his pocket. Gathering an explosive burst of adrenaline, Ethan slammed his shoulder into the officer, knocked him aside, and managed to fish the phone out with his cuffed fingers.

Seeing the caller ID, Ethan let out a hysterical, cracked laugh. "The proof is here! I'm about to prove she's an imposter right now!"

He jammed his thumb against the screen, answering the call and hitting the speaker button.

A man's voice came through the line: "Ethan, I found it! She traveled abroad years ago and used an alias to undergo full reconstructive plastic surgery! I just got my hands on the clinic's records, sending them to your phone right now!"

The next second, Ethan snapped his neck toward me, his eyes gleaming with mad triumph. "Ha! You still want to play dumb?! You literally bought my wife's face at a clinic!"

His parents and the two officers turned their heads, their gazes heavy with suspicion as they landed squarely on me.

I knew I couldn't hide it anymore. Letting out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh, I said softly, "Fine... it's true. I did have plastic surgery to look like this..."