My mother-in-law shoved me down the stairs while I was eight months pregnant—then told my husband I had thrown myself down to frame her.

We drove to the state attorney’s office in Concord the next morning.

Elena Voss was the lead prosecutor on white-collar and violent crime cases. She was in her fifties, with short gray hair and a scar across her left eyebrow. She didn’t smile when we walked in. She didn’t offer us coffee. She just sat behind her big oak desk and said, “Show me what you’ve got.”

We showed her everything.

The video. She watched it twice, her face never changing. When Ethan nodded, she tapped her pen once on the desk. Hard.

The bank records. She flipped through every page, making notes in the margins.

The notebook the PI had dropped. She read every page, then put it in an evidence bag and sealed it with a sticker.

When we were done, she leaned back in her chair.

“Margaret Hale is one of the most powerful women in this state,” she said. “She sits on three charity boards. She donates half a million dollars a year to political campaigns. Half the judges in Boston have been to her Christmas parties. Taking her down isn’t going to be easy. She’s going to fight dirty. She’s going to lie. She’s going to try to ruin every single one of your lives.”

She looked straight at me.

“Are you ready for that?”

I thought of Clara. Of holding her for the first time. Of Margaret’s hands on my back. Of Ethan’s nod.

I nodded. “I’m ready.”

“Good. We’ll file arrest warrants for both Margaret and Ethan this afternoon. Conspiracy to commit murder, attempted murder, embezzlement, witness tampering. We’ll ask for no bail. In the meantime, we’re putting you in a safe house. Two marshals on duty 24/7. No phones. No social media. No contact with anyone outside this office until the trial. Understood?”

“Understood,” Jesse and I said together.

We left the DA’s office through the back exit. The marshals were waiting for us in an unmarked SUV.

I was climbing into the back seat when I heard my name.

“Lila! Wait!”

I turned.

Ethan was running across the parking lot toward me. He looked terrible. His clothes were dirty, his face was covered in stubble, his eyes were red and swollen like he hadn’t slept in a week.

The marshals stepped in front of me, hands on their guns.

“Stop right there, sir,” one of them said.

Ethan held up his hands. “I’m not gonna hurt her. I just need to talk to her. Please. Five minutes. That’s all I ask.”

I looked at Elena. She nodded once.

The marshals stepped back, but they stayed close.

Ethan walked up to me. He stopped a foot away, like he was scared to get too close.

“Baby,” he said. His voice cracked. “I am so sorry. I was a coward. She threatened me. She said if I didn’t go along with it, she’d tell the IRS I’d helped her embezzle the money. She said I’d go to prison for ten years. That I’d never get to see my baby grow up. I was scared. I made the worst mistake of my life. I love you. I love Clara more than anything. Let me make this right. I’ll testify against her. I’ll tell the cops everything. Just… please. Don’t let them put me in prison with her. I can’t do that.”

He reached for my hand.

I let him take it.

For a second, I let myself believe him. I let myself remember the boy who’d stayed up with me all night when I had the flu in college, who’d proposed to me on the beach at sunset, who’d held my hand at every doctor’s appointment.

Then I saw it.

His phone was sticking out of his jeans pocket. The screen was lit up.

He was on a call.

Muted.

The contact name at the top: Mom.

I wrenched my hand out of his like I’d been burned.

“You’re still talking to her,” I said. My voice shook. “You’ve been on the phone with her this whole time. You’re telling her everything we said in there. About the video. About the bank records. About the safe house.”

Ethan’s face went white. “Lila, no—”

“Show me your phone.”

“Lila, listen—”

“SHOW ME YOUR GODDAMN PHONE!”

He flinched. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and held it up.

The call was still connected.

47 minutes.

I slapped him as hard as I could.

The sound echoed across the parking lot.

Ethan staggered back, his hand on his cheek.

“You never change,” I said. I was crying now, angry tears hot on my face. “You will always choose her. You will always lie. You will always be a coward. I hope you rot in prison right next to her. I never want to see you again.”

I turned and climbed into the SUV. I slammed the door.

The marshals got in beside me. The driver pulled out of the parking lot.

I looked out the back window.