Chapter 3

I'd known Dr. Ellis Holt for four years.

When I first came in with an infected wound, he stayed up half the night treating me. He could be sharp-tongued, but he never cut corners when it came to medicine. If an inmate had no family on the outside, he'd even save an egg for him.

After four years, I knew what kind of man he was.

"What does fate-swapping mean?"

"It siphons away one family's health, fortune, and even the years of their lives, then feeds all of it to someone else."

He pointed at the blurred corner of the page.

"Some things look like ordinary photographs. But once you look at them, they can twist love into hatred and hatred into love—until you can no longer tell which thoughts belong to you."

My mind flashed back to the interview room.

I'd loved Hazel for 18 years, yet I'd looked my parents in the eye and said she deserved to die. A chill moved beneath my skin.

"Did someone use it on me?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he reached beneath the medicine cabinet and pulled out a black leather-bound grimoire wrapped in plastic.

"My brother encountered one of these rituals 20 years ago. I couldn't save him. The answers you want are in this book. But once you know the truth, there is no going back."

He closed the grimoire.

Beside the cabinet, I noticed a bill from the children's hospital for cancer treatment.

"Your child?"

He fell silent, then nodded.

"We've sold everything we could, but we're still nowhere close to affording the next round of treatment."

"I'm not telling you this for money," he quickly added. "After four years, I know what kind of man you are. I just don't want to stand by and watch the same thing destroy someone else."

I believed him.

Four years was long enough to tell whether someone was trying to use me or simply couldn't bear to watch me suffer.

I pushed the invoice back toward him, then wrote down a name and phone number.

"Go to this friend of mine and tell him you know me from prison. He'll help you."

He frowned. "You've been in here four years. You really think someone on the outside will still do that for you?"

"This one will."

The Wards might have been struggling, but the shares in my name were still mine. Besides, this friend owed me a favor. Getting him to cover treatment costs under 150,000 wouldn't be a problem.

"Don't stop the treatment. He can cover up to 150,000."

He stared at the note. Slowly, his eyes reddened.

He didn't thank me. He simply slid the black book across the table.

That night, the pieces finally locked together. I understood why I'd confessed, why my love for Tessa had felt like a hand closing around my throat, and why disaster after disaster had struck my family.

There were some answers I kept to myself.

But one warning from Ellis stayed with me: "Don't let her find out you're awake."

From that day on, every time Tessa held up the photograph, that false love still rose inside me. I lowered my head, endured it, and obeyed just enough to make her believe nothing had changed.

For three years, I played her obedient fool until she believed prison had broken me into a dog that would still come when she called.

Then, in my seventh year, I walked free.

The prison gate had barely closed behind me when three luxury cars pulled up and blocked the road.

Tessa stood beside the cars in a wedding dress, with Damian's arm around her waist. Reporters immediately swarmed me. One microphone nearly hit me in the chin.

"Your brother is marrying your ex-fiancée. Do you give them your blessing?"

"We hear your parents died without forgiving you. Is that true?"

Tessa pressed a wedding invitation into my hand.

"Come to the wedding, Elliot. I'll give you a seat at the head table."

Damian scoffed. "Does he deserve that?"

"Don't say that. No matter what he's done, he's still your brother."

She turned to me. "Isn't that right, Elliot?"

I nodded.

The reporters immediately started calling me shameless. Some said seven years in prison must have messed with my head.

Tessa looked pleased. She leaned close and whispered in my ear, "Seven years later, you still do everything I tell you."

I ignored her and asked, "Where are my parents?"

Damian answered before she could, "Dead."

My fingers tightened around the invitation. Its stiff edge dug into my palm and nearly broke the skin.

But Damian wasn't done.

"Before Dad died, he said he'd disowned you. Mom died clutching a photo of Hazel. She never mentioned you, not even once."

Tessa watched me, clearly waiting for me to fall apart.

But all I said was, "I understand."

She frowned.

Damian sneered. "You really are heartless."

My gaze dropped to the watch on his wrist.

"Did you inherit everything Dad left behind?"

"What's it to you?"

Tessa answered for him with a smile. "Elliot, the old house and shares are still in your name. You're an ex-con now, so they're useless to you. Sign them over to me."

Several microphones immediately turned toward me.

"You got your sister killed and drove your parents to their graves. Don't you owe your family something after all that?"

Tessa drew out the family photo again.

One glance was enough. Her radiant smile drove into my mind exactly as it had seven years ago.

That familiar, unnatural love began crawling up through my chest.

But this time, I held on to one thought I knew was mine.

"You know you want to," she said.

I took the documents.

Even Damian looked surprised. "You're actually signing?"

"Yes."

I signed my name. Camera shutters exploded around me, drowning out the voices in the crowd.

Tessa finally smiled.

She had no idea that the photograph itself was no longer what frightened me.

What frightened me was letting her see that I could remain awake while it worked.

"I'll come to the wedding."

Tessa narrowed her eyes.

"Wear something decent. Don't embarrass my family in front of everyone."

"All right."

She turned and headed for the car.

Just before she closed the door, I called after her, "Tessa, can I bring a wedding gift?"

"Of course. You'd better not show up empty-handed."

I held up the invitation.

"Don't worry. I'm sure your whole family will love it."