He wrote that I had given up work and independence for a family that still treated me like a temporary guest.
He admitted he should have defended me more.
Then he wrote:
If you never need this house, I will consider that the better outcome.
But if the day comes when you discover that kindness has not been returned to you, I want you to have one place where no Hartwell can tell you that you do not belong.
I read that sentence until the page blurred.
Then I put everything back.
Exactly where I found it.
I told no one.
Not Nolan.
Not Vivian.
Not even my closest friend, Tessa Rowe.
Why?
Because I still loved my husband.
And because there is a difference between possessing a weapon and wanting to use one.
The trust was not a weapon.
But I knew the Hartwells would treat it like one.
So I kept quiet.
For almost a year.
Then I found Nolan’s hotel receipt.
