Chapter 3
I told him everything.
Every painful detail.
How I had hired a private investigator.
How I had learned Vivian had married him eighteen months after the fire.
How she had become the boys' stepmother.
How she had convinced everyone I was dead.
Andrew sat on the floor across from me.
His head was in his hands.
His shoulders shook.
"I believed her," he whispered. "God help me, I believed every word."
I reached across the space between us.
I touched his arm.
"You were grieving," I said softly. "She knew exactly what to say."
He looked up at me.
His eyes were red.
"She told me the dental records matched. She showed me the death certificate. She said—" His voice broke. "She said you wouldn't want me to suffer alone. That you would want me to be happy. That you would want the boys to have a mother."
The boys were still with me.
Liam had sat down on the floor beside me.
Noah had fallen asleep in my lap, exhausted from crying.
His little hand was curled in the fabric of my uniform.
"She's not nice to us," Liam said quietly.
Andrew's head snapped toward him.
"What?"
Liam looked down at his hands.
"She yells a lot. When you're at work, she yells. She says we're too loud. She says we're the reason you're always sad."
My blood turned to ice.
Andrew looked like he had been punched.
"She never said anything to me," he whispered. "She always told me the boys were adjusting well. That they were happy."
"She lies," Liam said simply.
I looked at Andrew.
"I had to see them," I said. "I had to know they were okay. So I applied for the maid's position. I used a different name. I changed my hair. I wore makeup to cover the scars on my face. I just wanted to be near them."
"You've been here three months," Andrew said. It wasn't a question.
I nodded.
"Three months of watching Vivian pretend to be the perfect wife and mother when you were home. Three months of seeing how she really is when you leave."
"And the boys?" he asked, his voice breaking again. "They knew?"
"Not at first," I said. I looked down at Noah's sleeping face. "But children know. They feel things. Liam started staring at me. He said my eyes reminded him of someone. And then one night, Noah had a nightmare. I couldn't help it. I sang to him."
Andrew closed his eyes.
"The lullaby."
"The lullaby," I confirmed. "Liam heard me. He asked me how I knew it. I told him it was a song my mother used to sing to me. But he didn't believe me. He started calling me mommy when Vivian wasn't around. Noah followed."
I took a shaky breath.
"Tonight was the first time they said it in front of anyone."
Andrew stood up.
He paced the length of the dining room.
"I'm going to kill her," he said. His voice was low and dangerous. "I'm going to—"
"Andrew."
He stopped and looked at me.
"Not yet," I said. "We need proof. She's clever. She's had three years to cover her tracks. If we confront her now without evidence, she'll twist it. She'll make me look like the villain. She'll take the boys."
The thought made both of us go still.
"You're right," Andrew said after a moment. He ran a hand through his hair. "God, you're right. She would do exactly that."
He came back and knelt in front of me.
He reached out, hesitantly, and touched my face.
His fingers traced the faint scar along my jawline.
"The fire," he whispered.
"I'm okay now," I said. "Mostly."
"You're beautiful," he said. And the way he said it—like he was seeing past the scars, past the maid's uniform, past three years of hell—made me cry all over again.
"You don't have to do this alone anymore," he said. "Whatever you need. Whatever it takes. We'll get justice. We'll fix this."
I looked at my boys.
One sleeping in my lap.
One watching me with hope in his eyes.
And then I looked at Andrew.
My husband.
The man I had loved since I was nineteen.
"I don't want revenge," I said quietly. "I just want my life back. I want my boys. I want to be safe."
Andrew leaned forward.
He pressed his forehead to mine.
"You will be," he promised. "I swear to you. You will be safe. You will have your boys. And Vivian will pay for everything she did."
Somewhere upstairs, we heard a door open.
Footsteps in the hallway.
Andrew pulled back.
He stood up and offered me his hand.
"Come on," he said. "You're not sleeping in the maid's quarters tonight. You're staying in our—my bedroom. The boys can stay with us too."
I took his hand.
He pulled me up carefully, so I wouldn't wake Noah.
Liam stood up on his own and grabbed my other hand.
For the first time in three years, I walked through my own house as myself.
Not as a maid.
Not as a ghost.
As Elena.
As a mother.
May you like
As a wife.
And somewhere upstairs, Vivian was waiting.
