My husband wrapped his arms around my seven-month-pregnant belly at Silver Gorge, whispered, “Go in peace, sweetheart,” and pushed me off a cliff.

Her eyes moved across my bruised face, my injured shoulder, and the monitor beside the bed.

Then she covered her mouth.

“Oh, Claire.”

I tried to smile.

“Hi.”

She crossed the room and hugged me as gently as she could.

I felt her shaking.

“We thought you were dead.”

“I know.”

“They were searching the river.

They said nobody could survive that current.”

“I know.”

She pulled back.

“Daniel’s been telling everyone—”

Her voice caught.

I looked at her.

“What has he been telling everyone?”

She sat beside the bed.

“That he tried to save you.

That you slipped while he was taking a picture.

That he hasn’t slept.”

I gave a hollow laugh.

“Has he mentioned the inheritance?”

Nora stared at me.

“What?”

“My mother’s money.

Has he mentioned it?”

“Claire, why would—”

“Because that’s why he pushed me.”

She went completely still.

I told her what had happened.

Not in every detail.

I couldn’t bear to describe the moment I thought Lily was dead.

But I told her about the cliff.

The words.

The hands on my arms.

The push.

By the time I finished, Nora’s face had gone pale.

“No,” she whispered.

I looked down.

“I know.”

“No, I mean…”

She shook her head.

“He did that to you?

To both of you?”

I nodded.

She covered her mouth again.

Then her expression changed.

The grief was still there.

But now there was anger.

A deep, trembling anger that I had rarely seen in her.

“That man stood in my kitchen yesterday,” she said quietly.

I looked up.

“What?”

“He came by because I had photographs from your wedding.

He said he wanted to choose one for the funeral.”

My stomach tightened.

“He looked me in the eye, Claire.

He hugged me.

He told me he couldn’t believe he’d lost his girls.”

My throat burned.

Nora’s eyes filled with tears again.

“I comforted him.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I told him your mother would want him to stay strong.”

I reached for her hand.

“Nora.”

“He hugged me while I was crying for you.”

I squeezed her fingers.

“He fooled both of us.”

She closed her eyes.

For a while, we sat in silence.

Then she reached into her bag and took out a folded program.

“I wasn’t going to show you this,” she said.

“But I think you should see it.”

She handed it to me.

On the front was a photograph of Daniel and me on our wedding day.

He was kissing my forehead.

I was smiling.

Beneath the photograph, elegant silver letters read:

A Celebration of the Life of Claire Bennett Carter

And below that:

Beloved Wife and Expectant Mother

My fingers tightened around the paper.

There was a date, a time, and the name of the chapel on Oak Street.

It looked so official.

So final.

As if my life had already been neatly folded away.

I opened it.

Inside was a short message from Daniel.

Claire was the center of my world.

Though I could not save her, I will dedicate the rest of my life to honoring her memory and caring for everything she entrusted to me.

I stared at the words.

Caring for everything she entrusted to me.

Even in a funeral program, he couldn’t stop thinking about what belonged to me.

Nora watched my face.

“Claire?”

I handed the paper back.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“Did he write this?”

“Yes.

He insisted on doing it himself.”

I nodded slowly.

Of course he had.

Daniel had always been particular about the words other people used when describing him.

A generous husband.

A reliable provider.

A devoted father-to-be.

Now he wanted another title.

The grieving widower.

And he’d written the script himself.

That evening, after the final hospital checks, I was discharged with instructions to rest and stay under close medical supervision.

Nora took me to a quiet room at a small inn in the neighboring town.

I couldn’t go home.

Even imagining Daniel walking through our bedroom door made my chest tighten.

Nora helped me settle onto the bed, arranged pillows around my injured shoulder, and placed a glass of water within reach.

Then she sat in the chair beside the window.

“Are you sure about tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know.”

“You could stay here.

Let the police handle him.”

“I know.”

She sighed.

“You’re impossible.”

I managed a small smile.

“You’ve been saying that since college.”

“Because you’ve been impossible since college.”

For the first time in two days, I laughed.

The sound felt strange.

Almost unfamiliar.

Then Nora asked a question that made me go quiet.

“Claire, why didn’t Daniel know you were such a good swimmer?”

I looked at her.

She knew my history.