Chapter 8
Lena sat in the passenger seat, her hands crossed tightly in her lap, her back stiff despite the heater blasting warm air through the car. Ethan drove in silence, his hands wrapped around the steering wheel with practiced familiarity, his gaze on the road ahead.
The winter trees flashed by the window, long bare limbs stretched out over the bottomless white. The drive home from the city was supposed to be a homecoming, a move toward freedom. It was a creeping advance toward something terrible.
Lena had practiced all morning words, every glance, every breath so carefully under control. She couldn't afford one misstep.
She was acting the part of the ideal wife, the loving mate with no doubts, no covert plans of flight.
But her mind was racing inside.
She knew Ethan was observing. He always was.
"Happy to be going back?" His tone cut through the silence, smooth as always, but Lena saw through it. There was something under it. Something in waiting.
She smiled at him, making it small. "I liked the cabin, but yeah, I think I'm ready to be home."
Ethan regarded her, regarding her for a beat too long. "You were tense this morning."
Lena didn't crack. "Just worrying about work. I probably have a million emails waiting for me."
Another silence. Then, finally, he nodded.
"You work too much."
Lena laughed with a breath. "Says the man who never sleeps."
His lips twisted, but he didn't argue. Instead, he reached over, putting a hand on her knee. The gesture was meant to be reassuring, but all Lena felt was a cage clanging shut.
She fought the urge to shift away. Instead, she placed her hand on top of his, squeezing it lightly. See? All is well.
She needed him to believe that.
She needed him to trust her so much that he would lower his defenses.
Then she could finally escape.
---
By the time they pulled into the house, the sky was dark, a gray storm billowing over the city like an omen.
Lena stepped out of the car, drawing in great draughts of air. The cold winter air should have clarified her mind, but it felt heavy with everything she still needed to do.
Ethan pulled the suitcases from the trunk and walked ahead while Lena followed behind him, being careful not to fall behind. She couldn't let him notice her haste.
As soon as they stepped inside, the warm scent of home surrounded her fresh linen, a whiff of Ethan's cologne, and the omnipresent scent of candle wax. Everything was exactly as they'd left it, yet, something was off.
Lena's hands curled as she set down her purse, her eyes scanning the living room. The bookcase. The coffee table. The single red throw pillow she never failed to leave on the couch.
Everything was in its place, still, a spreading sense of disquiet clung to her skin like a chilling drip of water.
Was she seeing things?
Or had someone been there?
Ethan locked the door behind them, letting the bags fall beside the stairs. "Home sweet home."
Lena nodded curtly. "Yeah."
She longed to rush upstairs, to search for any gaps in her memory, any journals or notes she might have hidden before Ethan wiped her out. But she couldn't; not yet.
Instead, she faced Ethan, smiling tiredly. "I think I just need a hot shower and some sleep."
He studied her, then nodded. "Go ahead. I'll order dinner."
It wasn't permission. It was a test.
Lena knew better than to fail.
She moved up the stairs at a calm, unhurried pace, her pulse pounding in her ears.
The second she stepped into their bedroom and closed the door, she let out a quiet, shaky breath.
She needed to find her phone.
Ethan had taken it with him on the trip, explaining that they both needed a 'digital detox.' But now that they were home, he couldn't hide it from her without arousing suspicion.
She opened the top drawer of her nightstand.
It was Empty.
Her heart sank.
Then, a voice from the doorway.
"Finding this?"
Lena stiffened.
She turned slowly to see Ethan standing there, holding her phone.
She swallowed hard, forcing a careless smile. "Yeah. I had to check my emails."
Ethan stepped forward, holding it out to her with no hesitation. "Of course."
Lena took it, bracing her hand against the churning nerves within.
She flipped the power switch.
Dead.
Of course.
Ethan smiled as he wedged himself against the doorframe. "Forgot to charge it before we left."
She met his gaze, careful to keep her disappointment from showing. "I'll plug it in now."
He nodded, then stepped closer, lifting a hand to brush a strand of hair from her face. "I've missed you," he murmured.
Lena forced herself to stay still. "We were together all weekend."
Ethan's lips curved. "Not like this."
A chill ran down her spine.
But she couldn't show it.
And so she leaned back her face, touching a kiss to his jaw. "Be right down."
He hesitated for a minute, then turned away at last, mercifully.
"Take your time."
Lena stood there in the room until he was out of sight, her hand cradling the phone like it was a hot coal.
She had one chance.
And she wasn't letting it slip by.
---
As soon as the door had swung shut behind Ethan, Lena planted her phone and paced up and down, willing it to charge enough to come on.
Hours passed.
And then, finally, the screen came alight.
She took a sharp breath as she scrolled through her contacts.
Noah Graves.
Her thumbs rested on his name.
Would he remember her even?
Would he even trust her?
There was only one way to find out.
She tapped the call icon.
The line rang once. Twice.
Then, a voice.
"Hello?"
Lena's throat tightened.
It was him.
"Noah," she breathed.
A silence so long. Then-
".Lena?"
Her heart skipped a beat. He knew her. He remembered her.
But before she could say another word, something changed behind her.
The soft click of a sound.
Lena turned just in time to see Ethan in the doorway watching, listening, and in his hand, her second phone. The one she had hidden weeks ago.
A slow smile crept over his lips.
"Lena," he whispered, "who are you phoning?"
Her gut fell. She had erred, and now, she was out of time.