In the second year of my marriage, my husband's childhood sweetheart came back from studying abroad.

The very first night she returned, she secretly poked holes in every condom my husband and I had.

My parents' murders were still unavenged. I'd made it clear: no children.

"Ellie just finished school. She's young. She doesn't understand these things. Just take the pill," he said.

He knew full well I was allergic to oral contraceptives, yet he still said those words to protect a girl his family had taken in.

Even after taking the pill, I still got pregnant.

The day the doctors told me the ectopic pregnancy couldn't be saved, I called my husband, who was busy throwing a graduation party for Eleanor Lambert.

"Paul, I think I'm having a miscarriage."

Paul Fletcher was doing something on the other end. Heavy breathing crackled through the phone. "Jessica Pruitt! There's a limit to how far you can push this. Didn't you take the pill? Where the hell did a baby come from? Have you been sleeping around behind my back?"

I hung up in despair and dialed 911.

The next day, Paul finally showed up at the hospital with Eleanor in tow, both of them looking thoroughly satisfied.

Without a word, he slapped me across the face and wrapped his hand around my throat. "Jessica, you really were screwing someone else behind my back?"

My cheek burned, but that pain didn't amount to a thousandth of what was tearing through my abdomen.

——

He didn't let go until my eyes rolled back and I couldn't breathe.

My vision swam as I stared at his neck. A bright red hickey. I let out a cold laugh. "Funny. Which one of us is the cheater here?"

Paul faltered for a split second, then tugged his collar straight. "It was just a dare. A party game. Besides, Ellie's like a sister to me. You really think something could happen between us?"

Then he turned it back on me. "Now talk. Whose bastard did you just lose? Who's the man?"

Two years of dating. One year of marriage. And all it amounted to was this: he didn't trust me.

I sat there, face white as paper, my voice scraped raw. "One of the side effects of emergency contraceptives is ectopic pregnancy."

Two weeks earlier, Eleanor Lambert had returned from studying abroad. Her family and the Fletchers went way back.

Her adoptive parents had died years ago, and she'd lived with the Fletcher family ever since.

The moment she walked through the door, she announced she wanted to sleep in our master bedroom. Her old room hadn't been used in so long, she said, that it smelled like mildew. She asked Paul and me to spend just one night in her room instead.

I didn't want to. That bedroom held so many memories between Paul and me, every small and precious one.

The thought of handing it over to a complete stranger I'd never even met sat wrong in my gut.

I was sure Paul would say no. Instead, he ruffled Eleanor's hair with an indulgent smile. "Fine. But just one night."

Right in front of me, Eleanor hooked her arm through Paul's and pressed herself against him. "I knew you'd be the best to me, Paul."

Then she turned to look at me. "You don't mind, do you, Jess?"

I opened my mouth, ready to say that I did mind.

Paul cut me off. "Of course she doesn't mind. You think everyone's as petty as you?" He gave Eleanor a gentle push toward the stairs. "Go on up and get some rest. You're still jet-lagged."

I stood at the foot of the staircase, watching them laugh and jostle their way up, feeling like a stranger in my own home.

He'd promised me once. The bedroom was our little world, just the two of us. He would never let anyone else set foot inside.

Now Eleanor was the exception.

When I confronted him about it afterward, he waved it off. "Ellie isn't an outsider. She's like a sister to me. That's all."

In that moment, it was as if I'd never known him at all. So he could play these hollow word games with me too.

When it came to matters of the heart, I'd always been too easily swayed. A few soft words from Paul and I let it go.

It wasn't until after that night that I found out what Eleanor had done in our bedroom: she'd punctured every single condom we had.

I'd found out I was pregnant just yesterday morning. Figured I'd make peace with it and tell Paul that evening.

By the afternoon, a dull ache had settled low in my belly. I called Paul, but he never picked up.

It wasn't until Eleanor sent me a photo that I realized where he'd been. He'd thrown a party for her.

Paul caught the shift in my focus, and a flicker of guilt crossed his face.

He'd conveniently forgotten about Eleanor puncturing the condoms.

Eleanor saw him about to step toward me and quickly looped her arm through his. "Paul, I heard that after a miscarriage, the body doesn't always... expel everything cleanly. And if I hadn't insisted on dragging you to that party, your wife wouldn't have ended up like this. It's all my fault."

She drifted to the side of my bed, her gaze dropping to my stomach. A wave of dread washed over me.

"Why don't I help press the residue out for her? Consider it my apology."

Between the weakness draining my body and my scattered attention, I didn't react fast enough. She got her hands on me.

The pain in my abdomen exploded through every nerve. Blood soaked through the sheets in a widening stain.

Eleanor's eyes were bright with excitement. That look. It was the same look the monster from eight years ago had worn.

She couldn't contain herself. "Paul, look! I really did press it out for her. See? I told you it wasn't clean."

Her hands bore down harder. Paul stood rooted to the spot, making no move whatsoever to pull her off me.

In my panic, my fingers found a glass IV bottle on the rolling supply cart beside the bed. I swung it at her head.

Silence. Finally.

Paul snapped back to reality and rushed forward to catch Eleanor as she crumpled.

His eyes brimmed with concern for her. When they turned to me, all I saw was disgust and contempt. "Jessica, if anything happens to Ellie, I swear you'll pay for it."

I lay on the bed and watched him carry Eleanor out. All I felt was a savage rush of satisfaction.

The blood beneath me seemed to be gushing now. I used every last shred of strength to press the call button at the head of the bed.

The sound of frantic footsteps in the corridor flooded me with relief, and the world went black.

So tired. I want Mom and Dad. I just want to be their carefree little princess again.

A doctor's voice wound through the darkness: "The patient has no will to survive. Increase the dosage. Find whoever matters most to her and bring them in. See if that gets a response."

The person who matters most? They were all gone.

The man I once believed I'd spend my life with had died in my heart just minutes ago.

I sank into a long, long dream. Paul wasn't in it. Only the three of us: Mom, Dad, and me, happy together.

Then, in a blink, my parents were ripped away mid-stride while we were shopping. Strangers seized them and dragged them off.

They brought me to where my parents were being held and forced me to choose one of them.

The ringleader looked like he'd swallowed something rotten. His eyes were wild, manic, brimming with a sick thrill.

"No... please, no. What do you want? Money? I have money. I'll go get it for you, as much as you want. Just let my parents go. Please."

I dropped to my knees, begging, pleading for their lives.

One of the men dragged over a crate of cash and dumped it over my head.

"Money? I've got plenty of money. What I want is their lives. You know how many of my brothers died because of them?"

"If it weren't for your precious parents, I wouldn't have spent years running and hiding like a rat."

He grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of my skull and wrenched my head up, forcing me to look at Mom and Dad. He leveled a gun at each of them. "Choose. Or they both die."

"No..."

When I refused, he put a bullet through my father's leg.

My mother stared at me with unyielding pride, not a trace of surrender in her eyes. "Sweetheart, remember what Mommy told you."

I squeezed my eyes shut, the weight of grief crushing my chest as her words came flooding back. They had prepared for this. Somehow, they had always known a day like this might come.

She had told me once: if anything ever happened to both her and Dad, save him.

Not because she was blinded by love, but because she understood how much his work protecting the community mattered.

I opened my eyes again and slowly raised my hand, pointing at the woman who had given me life, who had loved me with everything she had.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. This is my fault. I never should have dragged them out shopping.

But the gun still came to rest against my father's forehead.

My scream in that moment was the most useless sound in the world.

That was when I learned just how naive I'd been. They had never intended to let either of my parents go. The "choose one" game was nothing but an appetizer to them.

What they really wanted was to violate me in front of my mother.

That was when Paul arrived with the police.

"Boss, the cops are here."

The leader swore. I seized the moment and sank my teeth into him. I barely made it two steps before he aimed at me and fired. My mother broke free from the men holding her and threw herself in front of me, taking the bullet.

I've tormented myself with it ever since. If I hadn't fought back, would my mother still be alive?

Under covering fire, the leader escaped. I held my mother's body and sobbed until I couldn't breathe.

That was the first time I met Paul. He stood beside me, gently rubbing my back.

I've thought about it many times since. If he hadn't shown up with those officers that day, the three of us would probably be reunited by now.

"What's your name?"

"Jessica Pruitt."

He murmured, "Jessica."

"Jessica. Jessica, wake up."

I pried open my heavy eyelids. The man in front of me blurred and overlapped with the boy who had rubbed my back eight years ago.

But that boy was long dead.

I found out later that Paul had never been a police officer. The only reason he'd been there that day was because Eleanor had gone missing. The last place she'd been seen was near where I'd been held captive.

As for how they eventually found Eleanor, I never learned.

Paul's self-satisfied voice dragged me back to the present.

He was standing beside Eleanor, showing off. "See? I told you. My wife can't bear to leave me. All I had to do was call her name a couple of times and she came right back from the brink." He turned to Eleanor with a grin. "You lost the bet. You're cooking dinner tonight."

Eleanor pouted. "Come on, Paul, I'm still hurt, you know."

"Fine, fine, fine. I'll cook. Happy?"

They had actually made a bet over whether I'd survive. A woman who had one foot in the grave, and they'd turned it into a game. Pathetic. Revolting.

The reason I came back was because my parents' killer was still out there. It had nothing to do with Paul.

I pressed my cracked lips together and said nothing.

Paul continued, "Jessica, you hurt Ellie. And since I'm the one who pulled you back from death's door, let's call it even. Tell your friend to drop the lawsuit."

"Besides, Ellie was only looking out for you. She had no idea your health was that fragile. Just let it go."

I beckoned Paul over with a small wave.

He looked puzzled but leaned in anyway.

"Can you help me sit up?"

My soft, quiet voice landed in Paul's ears as agreement.

He turned back to Eleanor with a wink. "See? I knew my wife would be reasonable."