Linda’s lips curled. “Go on,” she said. “Let her see.”

The bedroom door opened. A woman stepped out slowly, wrapped in one of my robes as if it were hers. Blonde hair. Perfect lipstick. Calm confidence that made my skin crawl. She leaned against the railing, her gaze landing on Mark like a claim already staked.

“Oh,” she said lightly, “you’re still here.”

My throat tightened. “Who are you?”

She tilted her head. “Jessica. And he chose me.”

Mark didn’t deny it. He didn’t even react.

My stomach twisted so violently I thought I might collapse right there. Tyler tugged my hand.
“Mommy… can we go?”

I forced a smile—the kind mothers learn to wear when everything is breaking. “Yes, sweetheart. We can go.”

I stepped off the porch, gravel crunching under my boots. My bag lay ripped open in the yard, clothes spilling out like proof of my erasure. Linda watched with satisfaction.

“You’ll be fine,” she said coolly. “You always figure things out.”

As I bent to gather my things, my fingers brushed an envelope tucked deep inside my coat pocket—the one I’d signed at the attorney’s office less than an hour earlier. Mark didn’t know. No one did.