Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WITH THE SCRATCHFlynn stayed in the hospital until midnight.
He didn't leave.
He sat beside my bed, staring at the floor.
I refused to look at him.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the knife.
Every time I opened them, I saw the ultrasound.
Two tiny lives.
Two heartbeats that had once existed inside me.
Gone.
Because of a lie.
“Mabel.”
I ignored him.
“Please.”
Still nothing.
He moved closer.
“I didn't know you were pregnant.”
“That doesn't change anything.”
“I would never have…”
“You already did.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“I love you.”
I laughed softly.
“No.”
He flinched.
“You love who you think I am.”
“And Selina?”
He looked away.
That silence said everything.
At 2:13 a.m., Dr. Reed entered with two detectives.
Flynn stood immediately.
“What's happening?”
One detective held up a plastic evidence bag.
Inside was the kitchen knife.
“The laboratory results came back.”
Flynn's face became pale.
“What results?”
“There are partial fingerprints on the handle.”
He looked at me.
“I told you. That's my knife.”
The detective nodded.
“Your fingerprints are there.”
Flynn relaxed slightly.
“But there are two other prints.”
The room went silent.
“Whose?”
“We don't know yet.”
The detective turned toward me.
“Mabel, did anyone else enter the house before the incident?”
“Selina.”
Flynn immediately said, “That's impossible.”
The detective raised an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“She arrived alone.”
“Did you see her enter?”
Flynn hesitated.
“I opened the door.”
“And after that?”
“I went upstairs.”
I stared at him.
“You didn't.”
His eyes met mine.
“You were in the kitchen with Selina.”
“I was in the study.”
“No.”
The detective looked between us.
I swallowed.
“I saw you.”
Flynn's jaw tightened.
“You were mistaken.”
“No.”
My voice shook.
“You stood beside Selina the entire time.”
He said nothing.
The detective wrote something down.
Then he asked:
“Mrs. Vance, do you remember what Selina was wearing?”
“A gray coat.”
“Anything else?”
I remembered.
Her necklace.
A thin silver chain.
With a black diamond pendant.
The detective exchanged a glance with his partner.
“What?”
He took out a photograph.
It showed Selina entering our house.
She was wearing the same necklace.
But I noticed something else.
There was blood on her sleeve.
Not much.
A tiny dark smear.
“That's impossible,” Flynn said.
The detective stared at the image.
“Your wife wasn't stabbed until afterward.”
Selina claimed she had been injured outside.
But the blood was fresh.
And it was on the inside of her sleeve.
Meaning it had gotten there after she entered the house.
I felt cold.
The detective stood.
“We'll need to question Ms. Cole.”
Flynn moved toward the door.
“I'll come with her.”
“No.”
The detective blocked him.
“She'll come alone.”
Selina arrived twenty minutes later.
She was crying before she even entered the room.
“Flynn, I was terrified.”
He immediately moved toward her.
I watched him.
It hurt less than it should have.
Perhaps because something inside me had already died.
The detective asked Selina where she had been that afternoon.
“At home.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you go to the Vance residence?”
“I needed help.”
“From Mrs. Vance?”
Selina looked at me.
“No.”
Her lips trembled.
“From Flynn.”
Flynn looked down.
The detective noticed.
“What kind of help?”
Selina hesitated.
“Financial.”
The room went silent.
Flynn snapped his head toward her.
“Selina.”
She cried harder.
“He promised he would help me.”
“With what?”
“My father.”
Her voice broke.
“He was dying.”
The detective looked at Flynn.
“Did you know?”
Flynn nodded.
“Yes.”
“How much money did you give her?”
Flynn said nothing.
I stared at him.
“You gave her money?”
“It wasn't like that.”
“How much?”
He finally answered.
“Two hundred thousand.”
I almost smiled.
“How romantic.”
“Mabel…”
“You gave the woman you supposedly stopped loving two hundred thousand dollars.”
“I was helping her.”
“And she repaid you by accusing me of assault?”
Selina began sobbing.
“That isn't fair.”
I looked at her.
“You're right.”
She smiled faintly through her tears.
Then her phone buzzed.
She checked the screen.
Her expression changed.
The detective noticed.
“Who is it?”
“Nobody.”
He held out his hand.
“Give me the phone.”
Selina refused.
The detective's voice hardened.
“Now.”
After a long hesitation, she handed it over.
The screen showed an incoming text.
One sentence.
THE POLICE KNOW ABOUT THE SECOND KNIFE.
Flynn read it.
His face drained of color.
I looked at him.
“Second knife?”
Nobody answered.
The detective slowly turned toward Flynn.
“Mr. Vance…”
Flynn whispered:
“There is no second knife.”
The detective's phone rang.
He answered.
Then his expression changed.
“Where?”
He listened.
“What house?”
He looked directly at me.
“Your residence.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
“The police just found a second weapon.”
He paused.
“It was hidden in the nursery.”
We didn't have a nursery.
Not yet.
Because I had never told Flynn I was planning one.
Someone had been inside our home before me.
May you like
And they had been preparing for something.
Something much bigger than my murder.
