0003.

“Amanda, what’s going on? You sound like you’ve seen a ghost,” Lizzy’s voice crackled over the phone.

“I need to see you,” Amanda replied, her voice trembling. “Please. It’s urgent.”

Lizzy hesitated but finally said, “Okay, meet me at the café on Seventh Street at six. We’ll grab breakfast.”

Amanda hung up, walking around the living room in a frenzy. It was almost 5 a.m and she hadn’t slept a wink.

The fear that someone was watching her, waiting to strike, kept her on edge. She glanced at Kendall, still sound asleep in her room, and clenched her fists.

James still hadn’t returned, and she couldn’t bring herself to call him again. What was the point? She was certain now that her life, and her daughter’s, was in danger.

When the clock struck six, Amanda left Kendall in the care of her babysitter. She threw on a hoodie and a cap, making sure her face was partially hidden, and drove to the café.

Lizzy was already seated, sipping a latte. When she saw Amanda approach, her jaw dropped. “Amanda, what on earth? You look… awful.” Lizzy’s eyes scanned Amanda’s red, swollen eyes and cracked lips.

Amanda sat down but didn’t reply, her hands gripping the edge of the table.

“Amanda, talk to me. What’s going on?” Lizzy pressed, her voice full of concern.

Amanda hesitated. She wasn’t sure how much she could tell Lizzy. What if the people following her were watching now? What if Lizzy got caught up in it? But she couldn’t do this alone.

“Drink some coffee first,” Lizzy said, standing up. “You’re shaking. I’ll get us something.”

As Lizzy went to the counter, Amanda’s eyes wandered to the TV mounted on the wall. The news was on. Her breath caught when a familiar face flashed on the screen, it was that of the journalist.

“The man in this footage was found dead this morning,” the news anchor said. “Authorities report he was killed by an unknown assailant. The victim was a journalist involved in high-profile investigations years ago.”

Amanda’s vision blurred, her heart pounding as she recognized the hooded figure caught on surveillance. It was the same person who had broken into her house.

She shot up from her chair, ignoring Lizzy’s calls from the counter. “Amanda! Wait! Where are you going?”

Amanda didn’t stop. She pushed through the café doors, jumped into her car, and sped home.

Back at the house, Kendall was still with the babysitter. Amanda forced a smile as she handed over cash. “You can go now. I won’t need you for a while.”

The babysitter hesitated. “Are you sure, Mrs Watson? You seem….”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Amanda cut her off. “Thank you.”

Once the sitter left, Amanda rushed to her room. She grabbed a suitcase and began throwing in essentials; clothes, cash, important documents. Her hands trembled as she zipped it shut.

She peeked at Kendall, who was still asleep, her small hand clutching her stuffed bunny. Tears pricked Amanda’s eyes, but she blinked them away. She had to stay strong.

James was still missing, but she couldn’t wait any longer. She’d figure out what to do about him later. All she knew now was that she and Kendall had to leave. If James’ family had silenced the journalist, they wouldn’t hesitate to come after her.

Her thoughts raced as she packed. James’ betrayal hurt deeply. How could she stay married to a man whose family had destroyed hers, and who had hidden it from her?

Six Months Later

James groaned as his eyes fluttered open. His head throbbed, and his vision blurred. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled his nostrils. Blinking, he realized he was in a hospital bed.

“James! You’re awake!” His mother’s voice broke with emotion. She rushed to his side, tears streaming down her face.

“What… what happened?” James croaked, his throat dry.

His mother clutched his hand. “You were in an accident, it's been six months. It was terrible, James. They didn’t think you’d make it. You’ve been in a coma ever since your daughter’s birthday. You got into an accident while heading home that fateful day.”

James frowned, trying to piece things together. “Six months? Ahh! What about Amanda? Kendall? Where are they?”

At the mention of Amanda’s name, his mother’s expression darkened. She looked away, dabbing at her tears with a tissue.

“What is it?” James demanded.

His mother sighed, her voice trembling. “Amanda… she left you, James. She’s gone. She took Kendall and relocated. She didn’t even visit you while you were in a coma. Three months ago, she sent divorce papers.”

James stared at her, stunned. “That’s not possible. Amanda wouldn’t… She loves me. She wouldn’t just leave.”

“I wish I was lying,” his mother said softly, pulling out her phone. She showed him an email. “These are the divorce papers she sent. And this…” She swiped to a photo of Amanda, Kendall, and another man. They were smiling, looking like a happy family.

James felt like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. “No,” he whispered. “This isn’t real. Amanda wouldn’t do this.”

“She has moved on, James,” his mother said. “You need to accept it. She only cared about your money. When she thought you’d die, she left.”

“No!” James shouted, his voice hoarse. “Amanda isn’t like that!” He reached for his phone, his hands shaking as he dialed Amanda’s number.

“The number you are trying to reach is out of service.”

The robotic voice hit him like a sledgehammer. He tried again. Same result.

James slumped back in bed, his mind racing. This couldn’t be true. Amanda had loved him. She had waited for him to come home for Kendall’s birthday. How could she abandon him like this?

The door opened, and a young woman stepped in with a basket of fruit. “James!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up.

James recognized her instantly. “Betty?”

“Yes! I came as soon as I heard about the accident. I’ve been checking in on you ever since.” She hugged him tightly, but James pulled away.

His mother spoke up. “Betty has been a blessing, James. She returned from abroad just to take care of you.”

James nodded absently, his mind elsewhere. “Thank you, Betty,” he muttered.

But he couldn’t stay in this bed. He needed to find Amanda.

Ignoring the pain that flared in his head, James tried to stand. His mother grabbed his arm. “James, you’re not strong enough to leave!”

“I have to find Amanda,” he said firmly.

His mother’s grip tightened. “She’s gone, James. Let her go.”

“No!” James shouted, but as he moved, a sharp pain stabbed through his skull. He staggered, clutching his head as the room spun around him.

“James!” Betty cried, rushing to support him.

Gritting his teeth, James sank back onto the bed. But in his heart, he vowed: “I’ll find you, Amanda. No matter what it takes.”