We got my visa processed quickly.
After that incident, Ethan became unusually cautious. He came home on time every night for weeks, canceling all his social plans. He was attentive, doting—acting like we were newlyweds all over again.
To anyone else, his performance might’ve been flawless.
But Ethan didn’t know that every message he sent to that dancer was being mirrored to my phone.
That's how I learned her name—Madeline Brooks. She was a 20-year-old ballet student. Her father was an alcoholic. Her mother was sick. She had a younger brother to care for and barely enough to keep her head above water.
And that night in the car? It had been her first time.
CLAIRE'S POV
Ethan had somehow convinced himself he was Madeline’s savior. He kept reassuring her, over and over, that he’d take care of her family and her—so long as she stayed in line and didn’t let me, his legal wife, find out.
Whenever he had free time, he’d sneak away to contact her. And after I fell asleep, he’d slip out of bed to indulge in quick, stolen moments with her.
But Ethan underestimated Madeline.
A drowning person will grab onto anything and Madeline? She was desperate.
She reached out to me first.