And I’d almost believed it. That’s what happens when someone you trust turns your grief into a weapon against you. You start to question everything. Maybe I wasn’t good enough.

But then Hazel stood up, her legs swinging, and told the truth that would save us all. The money, the girlfriend, the failing business, the months of lies—all of it was about to come pouring out.

Three months after losing my mother to cancer, I was trying to find a new normal. I was working part-time at the library, a job I loved. Our house on Maple Street wasn’t fancy, but it was filled with laughter and bedtime stories. Roland and I had been married for ten years, and I believed we were managing.