Chapter 4 - APRIL FOURTEENTHClaire remembered everything.
The rain.
The black sedan outside her apartment.
The woman who had knocked on her door.
The envelope containing divorce papers.
The warning.
And Ethan's mother saying:
“If you love him, disappear.”
Claire had obeyed.
She had signed the papers.
She had left Chicago.
She had changed her phone number.
She had rebuilt her life.
Then three years later, Ethan announced his engagement.
Claire had watched the announcement online.
She hadn't planned to attend.
She had only gone because of one message.
COME TO THE WEDDING IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY YOUR HUSBAND LEFT YOU.
She thought it was a cruel joke.
It wasn't.
At 2:00 a.m., Ethan arrived at the family estate.
The mansion sat behind iron gates in a wealthy Chicago suburb.
Security lights illuminated the driveway.
He entered through the front doors.
His father was waiting.
“Where is Claire?”
“I don't know.”
“What did she say?”
“That the wedding was canceled.”
His father stared at him.
“That's not what I asked.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“What is the ledger?”
His father's face changed.
“You don't need to know.”
“I think I do.”
“You don't understand what you're dealing with.”
“I was slapped in front of two hundred guests because of your secrets.”
His father lowered his voice.
“Claire is dangerous.”
“No.”
Ethan shook his head.
“She was dangerous to you.”
His father looked away.
“Same thing.”
Ethan stared.
“What happened on April 14?”
Silence.
Then his father walked toward the bar.
He poured himself bourbon.
“You were never supposed to remember.”
“Remember what?”
“Your first marriage wasn't an accident.”
Ethan froze.
“What?”
His father turned.
“Claire was chosen.”
“By whom?”
“Your mother.”
Ethan's face tightened.
“My mother hated Claire.”
“No.”
His father swallowed.
“She wanted Claire close enough to discover the truth.”
Ethan couldn't speak.
“Why?”
“Because your mother knew she was going to die.”
Across town, Claire was reading the ledger.
Every page contained payments.
Law firms.
Doctors.
Private investigators.
Politicians.
Judges.
Hospital administrators.
And one recurring name.
Morgan Foundation.
Claire stared.
“That was my father's foundation.”
The man beside her nodded.
“Your father wasn't the victim.”
Claire looked up.
“What?”
“He was involved.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“We found bank transfers.”
“He died believing he was innocent.”
“He wasn't.”
Claire closed the ledger.
“What did he do?”
The man hesitated.
“He helped Ethan's family cover up a death.”
Claire's blood ran cold.
“Whose death?”
He slid another photograph across the table.
Claire looked down.
A young woman.
Pregnant.
Her face bruised.
The date was April 14.
Claire whispered:
“Who is she?”
The man answered:
“Ethan's first wife.”
Claire stared.
Then looked at him.
“I am Ethan's first wife.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
Claire's hands began shaking.
“You were his second.”
She stared at the photograph.
May you like
The room suddenly felt cold.
“Then who was his first?”
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