Chapter 1
Lena adjusted the pearl earring with tight fingers, determined not to let her hand tremble. The woman in the mirror was Claire's blonde loveliness, Claire's slender face, and Claire's silk designer shirt. But it was wrong.
The image was strange
Behind her back, Ethan's voice rumbled as he came into their bedroom, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You look gorgeous, sweetheart."
Sweetheart. Not Lena. Not Claire.
She swallowed. "Are you sure this is me?" Her voice was light and playful because it had to be.
Ethan laughed, leaving a kiss on her temple. "Of course, love. You just need more sleep."
But sleep wasn't the problem. Reality was.
The house, the life, the husband-it was all too perfect. And perfection, she was starting to realize, was its kind of prison.
---
The scent of freshly ground coffee and toasted bread filled the kitchen, blending with the crisp morning air. Ethan sat at the breakfast table, reading the newspaper as he always did, a portrait of effortless domesticity. A plate of eggs and fruit waited for Lena, prepared exactly as she liked.
Or... as Claire liked.
"Eat something," Ethan said without looking up. "You barely ate dinner last night."
"Hey," Lena said, frowning at him.
Lena sat, picking up the silver fork. "I wasn't hungry."
"You haven't been hungry a lot lately." His voice was gentle, but there was something underneath it. A quiet insistence. A careful correction.
She forced a smile. "Guess I'm just tired."
Ethan reached for her hand, rubbing circles over her wrist. His touch was soothing. Familiar. Loving.
And yet, she fought the urge to pull away.
"You know I care about you, sweetheart," he whispered. "I just want to protect you."
Lena nodded her head, looking down at her plate. It was easier than meeting his eye.
Because if she did, she might not be able to hide what was really in her eyes.
---
Lena was not allowed a phone safety, Ethan had said. But today she was in the study, raking through his desk drawers with slow, silent fingers.
There was a voice in her saying stop. He would be angry if he discovered her.
But another part of her continued searching.
Her fingers wrapped around an abandoned cell phone at the far end of the drawer. She pushed the button, ppulse-poundingas the phone awakened.
One missed call.
"JULIA-3 DAYS AGO."
The name disturbed her. Julia. Her best friend.
Lena waited. Julia was calling her. Which meant Julia believed she still lived.
Her thumb danced the call button.
"Lena?"
She nearly dropped the phone.
Ethan stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.
---
His eyes flashed to the phone, then back to her face.
"Why are you digging through my desk?" His voice was smooth. Too smooth.
Lena swallowed hard. "I-I saw my friend's name. Julia. I just."
Ethan's expression eased. He stepped toward her, releasing the phone from her fingers with gentle pressure.
"Sweetheart." He cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheek. "We've talked about this. Julia-she was in your life before. Before the accident."
Lena's breath caught. "Accident?"
Ethan nodded. "You don't remember, do you?" He released a breath, and last had hurt him. "You were in a terrible accident, love. You have amnesia. We chose to focus on the here and now. On healing."
Her head spun. No. That hadn't been true. Had it?
Ethan kissed her forehead. "I'll keep this for now, okay? It's better if we don't create confusion."
He smiled, warm and patient.
Lena nodded on autopilot. Because that was what she was supposed to do.
But in the depths of her, something twisted.
Because she didn't recall any accident.
---
That night, she dreamt of water.
Cold, black waves engulfed her, pulling her down. A voice voice-shrieking underwater. Struggling. Struggling.
She woke up gasping, drenched in sweat.
Ethan's arm tightened around her waist. "Shh, sweetheart," he murmured sleepily. "I'm right here."
Lena stared at the ceiling.
Was she drowning? Or had she already drowned?