Chapter 1

Shannon's POV

After David Hammerback left with our son, Nick Hammerback, I didn't ask any more questions.

I cleared the dishes from the table, carried them into the kitchen, and washed everything before wiping down the counters and stovetop. I kept the faucet running harder than necessary. The rush of water was loud enough to drown out the knot tightening in my chest.

When there was nothing left to clean, I sat alone in the living room and video-called my parents.

Mom was making apple turnovers when she answered. The moment she saw my face, her hands stopped.

I was quiet for a few seconds before asking softly, "Mom, that immigration paperwork you mentioned last time… Is that still an option?"

"Of course, it is! If you're ready to come, we'd love to have you."

I smiled and ended the call without telling her why I'd asked.

Barely a minute later, my phone rang.

It was David.

"Something came up at work, so I won't be home tonight. Nick's staying at a friend's place after tutoring. I'll pick him up in the morning and drop him off at school on my way to work."

"Where is he staying?"

David hesitated before giving me the name of an apartment complex. I recognized it immediately. It was the same address Nick's classmate's mother had insisted that afternoon wasn't hers.

I tightened my grip on the phone, but my voice remained perfectly calm. "Okay."

Maybe I sounded a little too calm, because David suddenly seemed uneasy.

"Don't read into it. I'll come home as soon as I'm done here."

I didn't answer. I simply hung up. Then I got to my feet, walked to the entryway, and packed away David's and Nick's house slippers.

Once that was done, I pulled out our statements from the summer.

Nick had barely used his school lunch account.

Our utility bills had been noticeably lower than they were the summer before. And every one of David's supposed business trips and client dinners lined up almost perfectly with the family vacations Nick had written about in his school essays.

Except the family of three in those stories had never included me.

My phone lit up with a message from David. "Don't wait for us. Get some sleep."

I sent back a single word. "Okay."

Then I changed the code to the front door and deleted both of their fingerprints from the smart lock.

A little after 11:00 pm that night, the tutoring center posted a batch of photos in the parents' group chat. I opened them and scanned through the class.

Nick wasn't there. I almost closed the pictures, but something in the reflection on the glass caught my eye. I zoomed in.

A woman in a white dress was leading a boy out of the building by the hand. David was standing beside them. And the backpack on the boy's shoulders belonged to my son.

I stared at the picture, my fingers tightening around my phone.

Early the next morning, someone started pounding on the front door.

"Shannon, what are you doing?" David demanded from the hallway. "The neighbors are staring. Open the door."

Then Nick's voice joined his. "Mom, I'm going to be late for school. Can you please stop doing this?"

I stood silently on the other side of the door and listened to them call for me again and again.

I'd spent years making their breakfasts. Years staying awake late into the night, waiting for them to come home. And now, after all those years, the one time I finally shut the door on them, somehow I was the one being unreasonable.

I opened the door.

David walked in, his expression darkening the second he saw me. "Why did you change the code?"

I looked at him. "From now on, whether you come home or not, you don't need to tell me."

For a moment, he just stared at me. "What are you talking about?"

I picked up my purse. "I have an interview today."

Nick was standing off to the side, already looking annoyed. "An interview for what?"

"A job."

David gave a short, disbelieving scoff. "You haven't worked in five years. Who's going to hire you?"

I met his eyes. "Maybe no one. But I'd rather get rejected than spend the rest of my life asking you for money."

His expression hardened. "You're doing this because you're angry."

"No." I walked to the door, then turned back to look at them one last time. "Nick's old enough that he doesn't need me hovering over him anymore. And apparently you've found someone else to take care of you. I don't want to live like this anymore."

David frowned. "Shannon, are you done with this nonsense?"

"I'm not trying to start a fight." I opened the door, my voice quiet. "I'm tired of having to hold out my hand every time I need something."

This time, David didn't follow me.