Ethan thought he had won because he had found a way to hurt me through my father.

But he had underestimated how desperate Lila was becoming.

I had seen the way she looked at him in the office corridor last week.

It was not the look of a woman who felt secure.

It was the look of someone who was beginning to realize she had been used.

My phone buzzed on the counter.

I reached for it, expecting a text from my lawyer.

Instead, a notification popped up on the screen.

It was an email from an anonymous address.

The subject line was blank.

I opened it.

There was an attachment labeled *Drafts_Dec_12*.

My finger hovered over the screen.

I tapped the file to download it.

As the progress bar crept slowly toward the right, I heard the sound of a car engine in the driveway.

Headlights swept across the kitchen window, casting bright, moving squares of light against the white cabinets.

Ethan was back.

I quickly locked the phone and slid it into my pocket.

The garage door began to rumble open, vibrating through the kitchen floor.