Chapter 3

Ethan (32) froze, his hand still raised. He looked wildly around the hospital room. "Who said that? Who's there?"

He spotted the old phone on the floor, its screen still lit. He snatched it up. "Is this who you're talking to, Sarah? Another man? Is that why you want a divorce?"

His accusation was so absurd, so twisted, it left Sarah speechless.

He didn't wait for an answer. With a snarl, he smashed the old phone against the wall. It shattered, the screen going dark.

Her connection to Ethan (19) was severed.

"You promised," Ethan (32) hissed, his face close to hers, his breath reeking of stale coffee and fury. "You promised you'd love me. Forever. Was that a lie too?"

Sarah found her voice, cold and sharp. "You're the one who broke your promises, Ethan. Not me."

Jessica, meanwhile, was moaning softly, clutching her self-inflicted wound. "Ethan, darling, it hurts so much. Take me home."

Ethan (32) glared at Sarah one last time. "We're not done," he growled, then turned to fuss over Jessica, helping her from the bed. Her parents cooed their support.

They left Sarah standing alone in the sterile corridor, the broken pieces of her old phone at her feet.

Despair washed over her. The one lifeline, the one glimpse of a different past, was gone. She sank to the floor, carefully gathering the fragments of the phone. Maybe, just maybe, it could be fixed.

Back home, she worked frantically, using a borrowed toolkit from a neighbor. The SIM card seemed intact. The main board, miraculously, wasn't completely destroyed.

Hours later, the phone flickered. A series of texts appeared, sent while it was broken. From Ethan (19).

*He hit you. I heard it. I felt it.*

*I can't let him exist. I can't become that.*

*I'm at the top of the old quarry. If I jump, he'll never hurt you again.*

*It's the only way, Sarah. To make him pay. To make myself pay for what I become.*

Sarah's blood ran cold. "No, Ethan, don't!" she typed, her fingers fumbling. "That's not what I want! I just want to be free! Not this! Your life isn't the price for my freedom!"

She hit send, praying it would go through, praying he hadn't already done something irreversible.

She returned to her own house, the silence heavy and oppressive. Ethan (32) was in their bedroom, waiting. The air was thick with menace.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, his voice dangerously soft.

"Out," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

He advanced on her. "You think you can just walk away from me?" He grabbed her, his fingers digging into her arms. "You belong to me."

He pushed her onto the bed.

Her new phone, the one Ethan (32) knew about, buzzed on the nightstand. It was a call from an unknown number – the SIM from the old phone, somehow, was routing through.

Ethan (32) glanced at it, then back at her, his eyes filled with a possessive fury. "No interruptions."

He forced himself on her. It was brutal, loveless, an act of pure dominance. Sarah closed her eyes, enduring it, a silent scream trapped in her throat.

When it was over, he rolled off her, leaving her bruised and broken. She lay there, tears silently tracing paths through the makeup she hadn't bothered to remove.

The old phone, pieced back together on her workbench in the spare room, began to chime with incoming messages. She dragged herself there.

Ethan (19)'s texts painted a horrifying picture.

*He's... he's hurting you. I can hear it. Through the phone. Oh God, Sarah.*

*The sounds... I can't...*

*I'm so sorry. So sorry.*

*He has to stop. I have to stop him.*

*I'm going to do it. For you.*

Then, a final, chilling message.

*Goodbye, Sarah. I love you.*

Sarah stared at the screen, her heart pounding.

"Ethan?" she typed, her voice a choked whisper as she spoke the words aloud. "Did you... did you hear everything?"

No reply.

Then, a new message, frantic, desperate.

*The ledge... I slipped... trying to... oh god... my leg...*

And then, silence.