Chapter 2

Half a bread roll wasn't enough to keep the hunger away.

That night, when I was in the shower, everything went black, and I collapsed on the bathroom floor.

I woke up in the hospital. Maisie was slumped over the edge of my bed, her eyes red and swollen. "Mom, you were throwing up blood."

She held up her small hand and touched the IV line by the bed. "I've been warming it with my hands so the medicine won't be so cold."

It was acute gastric bleeding, and the surgery required a family member's signature.

I had Maisie call Heath, but she dialed over a dozen times before he picked up, and the background noise was deafening.

"I'm at the vet. Prince is getting tests done, and I can't leave. Just have your mom sign it herself. She's not a child."

Maisie held the phone and said softly, "Daddy, Mommy's bleeding a lot."

Heath paused for a beat. "I'll come when I'm done."

By the time he showed up, I'd already signed the forms myself and was hooked up to an IV. He stood at the foot of the bed, studying my face with a frown. "How did you get this thin?"

There was genuine concern in his voice, but before I could say anything, Celeste's call came through. "Heath, Prince has to stay overnight for observation, and I'm scared of being here alone."

The concern vanished from his face instantly. "I'm on my way."

He made it to the door before stopping to look back at me. "Raven, you're young. You can handle it. Prince is different. He'd die without Celeste."

The door closed behind him. Maisie leaned against my bed and whispered, "Mommy, did Daddy get confused? You're the one who's sick."

The day after I was discharged, Prince fell into the swimming pool. Celeste held the dripping wet dog and sobbed so hard she was shaking.

"Raven was the only one who went to the garden today… I'm not blaming her. I'm sure she didn't push Prince on purpose."

It was the dead of winter. Prince had inhaled water, and the vet said even a pet could develop lasting trauma from something like that.

Heath stood in the middle of the living room, his expression dark. "Raven. Apologize."

"I didn't push him. There are cameras in the garden. Go check the footage yourself."

Celeste cut in through her tears. "The cameras stopped working a couple of days ago. But it's not Raven's fault, it really isn't."

The more she talked, the more worked up she got. She scooped Prince into her arms and headed for the door. "I'll take him and go! We'll leave right now!"

Heath grabbed her to stop her, then turned to me with a look so cold it was almost frightening. "When did you become this kind of person? You're picking a fight with a dog!

"Prince is too shaken up to eat. You're going to cook for him, and you're going to keep at it until he does."

So, I did. I lost count of how many times I tried before Prince finally ate out of my hand. And when he finished, he turned around and bit me so hard that blood ran down my fingers.

Heath heard the commotion and came running. His first instinct was to cradle Prince's mouth open. "Are you okay? Did you chip a tooth?"

Once he'd confirmed Prince was fine, he finally glanced at my hand, still dripping blood. "How can you be so careless?"

That night, he came to my room with a tube of ointment. Without a word, he took my hand and started applying it, slow and careful. His touch was gentle.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know he'd bite you. If it hurts, just say so. You don't have to tough it out with me."

The light in the room was dim. He sat with his head bowed, and for a moment he looked exactly like the boy from 11 years ago, the one who used to pop the blisters on my feet after we'd spent all day working at flea markets together.

I almost believed it again. Then I noticed the new ring on his left hand.

Celeste had posted on social media that afternoon. "Thank you for the gift. The three of us, together forever."

The photo showed three rings. The largest one was on Heath's finger, and the smallest was looped around Prince's paw.

I pulled my hand back. "It's done. You can go."

Not long after he left, Celeste knocked on my door.

She waved what looked like a photocopy of my visa application in front of me, smiling like she knew exactly what it meant. "Raven, are you applying for a visa?"

I'd left it in the study by accident. I didn't say anything.

She wasn't bothered. She turned on her heel and went downstairs to tell Heath. I heard him laugh from the first floor.

"Her? A visa? She can barely string a sentence together in another language. Where would she even go without me?

"Let her throw her little tantrum. She'll come back on her own when she's over it."

I stood at the turn of the staircase and listened to every word.

Then I went back to my room and pushed the signed divorce papers a little deeper into the drawer.

There was no rush. Soon enough, he'd find out exactly where I could go.