Ethan’s face drained of color.

His mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

“She was going to destroy you before you even started,” I said.

“I couldn’t let her do that. I loved you too much to let her ruin your life.”

He stood up so quickly the vinyl chair scraped loudly against the floor.

He walked to the window, staring out into the dark Chicago rain.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked, his back to me.

“We could have fought her. We could have gone to the police.”

“With what?” I asked. “Your father owns half the judges in the county.”

“You were twenty-six, Ethan. You owed a fortune in medical school loans.”

“Your father had just paid them off as a gesture of goodwill.”

“Your mother told me that if I stayed, they would recall those loans immediately.”

“They would have bankrupted you and labeled you a drug thief.”

“Who would the police believe? A billionaire philanthropist or a girl who worked twenty hours a week at a diner?”

Ethan pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the window.