PART 2: Leaves shifted. A branch snapped. Someone was coming back.
\nI closed my fingers around the small black beacon. And prepared myself to scream.
\n\u201cMara?\u201d
\nSloane.
\nMy sister-in-law stepped into the clearing alone. There was dirt on her cheek. She was breathing hard.
\n\u201cDon\u2019t yell.\u201d
\nI stared at her. \u201cYou came back.\u201d
\n\u201cI had to wait until they reached the truck.\u201d She grabbed the shovel.
\nShe began digging with frantic, uneven movements.
\n\u201cCareful!\u201d
\n\u201cI know!\u201d
\n\u201cNo, you don\u2019t. Don\u2019t dig close to my stomach.\u201d
\nFor ten agonizing minutes, neither of us spoke. When I could finally move my arms, I clawed frantically at the soil around my chest. Air rushed deeper into my lungs. I nearly sobbed from relief. Eventually, I pulled one leg free. Then the other.
\nThe moment I tried to stand, the world tilted. Sloane caught me. Blood rushed from my head.
\n\u201cMara!\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m okay.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019re bleeding.\u201d
\n\u201cMy head.\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d She pointed downward. Blood stained the inside of my jeans.
\nEvery nerve in my body turned to ice. \u201cNo.\u201d
\nI grabbed her wrist. \u201cHow far is the nearest road?\u201d
\nBefore she could answer, the beacon in my hand vibrated against my skin. Three short pulses. Emergency acknowledgment. Someone had finally received my signal.
\nBut then we heard it. An engine. Not distant. Close.
\nHeadlights swept through the trees. A heavy truck door slammed.
\n\u201cSloane!\u201d my father-in-law\u2019s angry voice echoed through the dark. \u201cYour mother is losing patience.\u201d<\/p>\n
The first thing I remember clearly was not the shovel.<\/p>\n
It was my daughter kicking.<\/p>\n
One small, frightened movement beneath my ribs while the earth tightened around my chest.<\/p>\n
That tiny kick was the moment I understood I could not afford to die.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou brought another man\u2019s child into my family.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mother-in-law, Vivian Caldwell, stood above me at the edge of the shallow pit, gripping a shovel with both hands.<\/p>\n
The late-afternoon sun was behind her, reducing her expensive cream coat and perfectly styled blond hair to a dark silhouette.<\/p>\n
She looked less like the elegant woman who chaired charity luncheons in three counties and more like something carved onto an old gravestone.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou thought you could humiliate Ethan,\u201d she continued. \u201cYou thought you could make fools of all of us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s his baby!\u201d<\/p>\n
My voice broke as I twisted against the loose soil packed around my waist.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan, look at me.\u201d<\/p>\n
My husband stood several feet away.<\/p>\n
He had dirt on the knees of his trousers.<\/p>\n
His wedding ring caught the sunlight.<\/p>\n
I stared at it.<\/p>\n
Four years earlier, he had slipped that ring onto his finger and whispered that there was nothing in this world powerful enough to turn him against me.<\/p>\n
Now he could not even look me in the eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cEthan,\u201d I begged.<\/p>\n
His jaw tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Nothing.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know I would never cheat on you.\u201d<\/p>\n
His father, Richard Caldwell, stepped forward and ripped my phone from my hand.<\/p>\n
I had managed to keep it tucked inside the waistband of my jeans during the drive into the woods.<\/p>\n
I had been waiting for one moment when they weren\u2019t watching.<\/p>\n
I never got it.<\/p>\n
Richard looked at the screen.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo signal anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n
He tossed the phone toward Vivian.<\/p>\n
She caught it.<\/p>\n
Then she dropped it beneath her boot.<\/p>\n
The sound of the glass cracking was strangely quiet.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere,\u201d Vivian said. \u201cNow there won\u2019t be any more hysterical calls.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHysterical?\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou kidnapped a pregnant woman.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vivian smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re family.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou dragged me into a truck!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were becoming unreasonable.\u201d<\/p>\n
Richard lifted another shovel of dirt.<\/p>\n
I tried to move.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
But he dumped it beside my hip.<\/p>\n
Cold soil spilled across my stomach.<\/p>\n
I gasped.<\/p>\n
\u201cStop!\u201d<\/p>\n
Another shovel.<\/p>\n
\u201cSTOP!\u201d<\/p>\n
My heart began hammering so violently that the world pulsed at the edges of my vision.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease.\u201d<\/p>\n
That word was for Ethan.<\/p>\n
Only Ethan.<\/p>\n
He finally looked at me.<\/p>\n
And somehow the emptiness in his expression frightened me more than Vivian\u2019s anger.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe you should have thought about the consequences before humiliating me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at the man I had shared a bed with the previous night.<\/p>\n
A cut on my forehead had begun dripping again.<\/p>\n
Warm blood slid through my eyebrow and into my left eye.<\/p>\n
I blinked against it.<\/p>\n
His sister, Sloane, stood behind him.<\/p>\n
Thirty years old.<\/p>\n
Pale.<\/p>\n
Shaking.<\/p>\n
Silent.<\/p>\n
For half a second our eyes met.<\/p>\n
There was terror in hers.<\/p>\n
Not rage.<\/p>\n
Not disgust.<\/p>\n
Terror.<\/p>\n
\u201cSloane,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n
She looked away.<\/p>\n
Vivian noticed.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t start feeling sorry for her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not,\u201d Sloane said quickly.<\/p>\n
Her voice sounded wrong.<\/p>\n
Vivian turned back to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019ll stay here until she\u2019s ready to tell us the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI already told you the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe laboratory says otherwise.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe laboratory is wrong!\u201d<\/p>\n
Vivian gave me a cold smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cScience doesn\u2019t make emotional excuses, Mara.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at Ethan again.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you actually call the clinic?\u201d<\/p>\n
He said nothing.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you?\u201d<\/p>\n
His silence answered me.<\/p>\n
Three days earlier Vivian had arrived at our house carrying a white envelope.<\/p>\n
Inside was a report from Westbridge Genetic Diagnostics.<\/p>\n
PATERNITY EXCLUSION.<\/p>\n
Probability of Ethan Caldwell being the biological father:<\/p>\n
0.00%.<\/p>\n
I had laughed when I first read it.<\/p>\n
Actually laughed.<\/p>\n
Because it was so absurd that my brain refused to understand the danger.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat isn\u2019t possible,\u201d I had said.<\/p>\n
Vivian hadn\u2019t laughed.<\/p>\n
Ethan hadn\u2019t either.<\/p>\n
The baby had been conceived naturally after nearly a year of trying.<\/p>\n
There had been no donor.<\/p>\n
No fertility clinic.<\/p>\n
No separation.<\/p>\n
No affair.<\/p>\n
There had never been another man.<\/p>\n
\u201cI want another test,\u201d I had demanded.<\/p>\n
Vivian folded the report.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe already have the answer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, you have a piece of paper.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom an accredited laboratory.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen someone made a mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vivian studied me.<\/p>\n
\u201cOr you did.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was the beginning.<\/p>\n
Three days later, they had me buried to my shoulders in the woods.<\/p>\n
The soil rose another inch.<\/p>\n
Breathing became harder.<\/p>\n