Ethan nodded, his voice low. “Your husband wasn’t alone that night. He wasn’t even driving. I was. And I tried to take the blame… until he twisted everything.”

Samantha’s breath caught. “No. That’s not possible. The crash—he said he protected me, that he saved us—”

“He lied,” Ethan cut in. “He begged me to cover for him. Said his career, your future—it would all be ruined. But when I realized why he was speeding that night…” He paused. “He wasn’t rushing home to you. He was chasing someone. A woman.”

The world tilted. Samantha felt sick.

“He threatened her. She ran. I tried to stop him—he swerved, hit the median.” Ethan’s voice cracked. “I’ve kept quiet out of guilt, but now… he’s turning you into a prisoner.”

Samantha stared at the house ahead—the lights in the window, her mother-in-law’s shadow crossing the curtains. Her husband’s voice echoed in her memory, always gentle. Always rehearsed.

Something clicked.

Her purse trembled in her hand. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Look in his desk,” Ethan said. “Bottom drawer. There’s a phone he thinks is gone.”

Samantha turned toward her house, a new chill crawling up her spine.

And what she found that night… would destroy everything.