I climbed into my car and drove away.
Behind me, the house stood quiet in the afternoon light.
It was mine.
The deed said so.
The law said so.
And no man, no mistress, no secret company, and no dangerous stranger would ever again be allowed to convince me that owning my life meant asking permission to live it.
My marriage was over.
The investigation was not.
And the most frightening question remained unanswered:
Had Richard brought Vesna into my house because he wanted to destroy my life—or because he was afraid of what would happen if he refused the people who were already planning to destroy his?
THE END
