Chapter 4

I turned around slowly. Karlee was dangling Cathi' s necklace from her fingers, a triumphant sneer on her face. Beside her, she held the simple wooden box that contained my sister' s ashes. I hadn't even realized she'd taken it from my bag.

"Such a cheap little thing," Karlee said, inspecting the necklace. "And this box is just ugly."

My blood ran cold. "Give that back to me."

"Give it back?" She laughed, a high, piercing sound. She opened the box. Before I could react, she upended it, and Cathi' s ashes scattered across the polished floor.

A guest gasped. The music seemed to stutter and die.

Karlee let the empty box fall from her fingers. Then, with a deliberate motion, she ground the ashes into the floor with the heel of her shoe.

"Oops," she said, her eyes gleaming with wicked delight.

Something inside me snapped. The years of pain, of humiliation, of grief, all coalesced into a single point of white-hot rage. I lunged at her, a guttural scream tearing from my throat.

I didn't want to hurt her. I just wanted to get my sister back. I scrambled on the floor, trying to gather the gray dust, my tears mixing with the ashes.

Karlee recoiled, stumbling backward. "She' s crazy! She attacked me!"

A hand clamped down on my arm, yanking me to my feet. It was Alexander. His face was a mask of fury.

"What the hell do you think you' re doing?" he snarled, his grip like iron.

"She... she..." I couldn' t form the words. I could only point at the desecrated remains of my sister on the floor.

"I saw you," Alexander said, his voice dangerously low. "You attacked her."

Karlee started to cry, a theatrical, heaving sob. "Alex, I was just looking at the box, and she flew at me! And... and she broke the necklace you gave me!" She held up Cathi' s necklace. The delicate chain was snapped.

He didn' t even question it. He didn' t look at the ashes on the floor. He only looked at Karlee' s feigned distress.

He turned his fury on me. "You will pay for this."

He slapped me. Hard. The force of it sent me stumbling backward, my head ringing. The crowd gasped again, a collective intake of breath.

"Get on your knees and apologize to her," he commanded.

I stared at him, the sting on my cheek a dull ache compared to the gaping wound in my soul. I saw him clearly for the first time. Not the man I once loved, not the cold husband I endured, but a monster.

All the love I had harbored for him, every last drop, evaporated in that moment. It left behind a cold, clear emptiness.

"No," I said. My voice was quiet, but steady.

A flicker of surprise crossed his face. He wasn't used to being defied.

He grabbed my arm again. "I said, apologize."

"And I said no." I looked him straight in the eye. I felt a strange sense of calm, of release. I had nothing left to lose.

He seemed taken aback by my stillness. He let go of my arm, and a strange smile touched his lips. "You have a lot of nerve, Addie. I wonder how long it will last."

He took Karlee' s arm. "Come on, darling. Let' s not let her ruin your night."

They walked away, leaving me standing in the middle of the silent room, a circle of horrified faces around me, my sister' s ashes a gray smear on the floor.

I didn' t cry. I walked out of the hotel, got into my car, and drove back to the mansion one last time. I packed a single bag. My clothes, my art restoration tools, a few personal items.

I looked around the sterile, perfect room that had been my prison. I had poured my life into this house, trying to make it a home. I had arranged the art. I had chosen the fabrics. I had planted the flowers in the garden that he never looked at. It was all for nothing.

Suddenly, the bedroom door burst open. Alexander stood there, his face dark with a terrifying rage.

"Where do you think you' re going?" he asked.

"I' m leaving. We' re divorced."

"Karlee just called me," he said, advancing on me. "She said you threatened her. You told her you were going to come back and hurt her."

Another lie. A fatal one.

"That' s not true," I said, backing away.

He didn' t listen. He grabbed me, his fingers digging into my arms, and dragged me out of the room, down the hall, and toward the back of the house. He threw open the doors to the indoor pool.

The air was thick with the smell of chlorine. He dragged me to the edge.

"You need to be taught a lesson, Addie. A permanent one."

With a violent shove, he pushed me into the deep end. The cold water was a shock, closing over my head, filling my nose and mouth. I was a weak swimmer, and the heavy fabric of my dress pulled me down. I struggled toward the surface, gasping for air, my lungs burning.