Seven Years, A Four-Year Lie

Ellery POV:

The driver, a young man with a perpetually bored expression, didn' t even question it. He just nodded, pulled out into traffic, and expertly wove through the cars, keeping Brendan' s sedan in sight.

The chase didn' t last long. It didn' t lead to his downtown office. It led to the city's main hospital.

I watched from the tinted window of the cab as Brendan' s car screeched to a halt at the emergency room entrance. The passenger door flew open and Kiya stumbled out, her face streaked with tears. She was wearing a coat over the same t-shirt she' d had on that morning.

She threw herself into Brendan' s arms, sobbing hysterically. He held her, stroking her hair, murmuring words of comfort I couldn' t hear but could easily imagine. He draped his own suit jacket over her shivering shoulders.

And then he did something that made the world tilt on its axis.

He knelt. He knelt on the grimy pavement of the hospital drop-off lane, in front of God and everyone, and gently, reverently, kissed her belly.

Kiya swatted at him playfully, a watery giggle escaping her lips. "Stop it, people are watching." She sniffled, wiping her eyes. "The doctor said… the doctor said I had signs of a threatened miscarriage, but that seeing you… seeing the baby' s father… stabilized my emotions. He said the baby is fine now. We' re fine."

The baby. Our baby, she had said in the video.

The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "You want me to pull over, miss?"

"Stay here," I ordered, my voice a choked whisper. "Don' t move. I' ll double your fare."

I couldn' t look away. I was witnessing the death of my life, and I had to be a faithful mourner.

Brendan' s face, when he looked up at her, was transformed. It was a look of pure, unadulterated joy. A look I had dreamed of seeing on his face, directed at me, for years. He scrambled to his feet and swept her up in his arms, spinning her around in a circle, his laughter echoing in the night.

"A baby!" he shouted, a joyous, triumphant sound. "We' re having a baby!"

Kiya wrapped her legs around his waist. "Husband," she murmured, loud enough for me to see the word form on her lips. "I knew you' d be happy."

Husband. She was calling him husband.

He finally set her down, his hands hovering protectively around her waist as if she were made of spun glass. "A boy or a girl?" he asked, his voice giddy. "I want a girl. Just like you."

The echo of his words from the beach, now repurposed for her, was a fresh stab of pain.

"You just gave Ellery a whole fireworks show," Kiya pouted, her tears miraculously gone. "You love her more than me."

"I' m just getting her to calm down," he soothed, brushing a stray hair from her face. "Don' t be jealous. I' ll take you to the Maldives next week. Just us. We' ll celebrate."

"Promise?" she demanded.

"Promise," he said, and sealed it with a long, deep kiss that was anything but brotherly concern for his wife' s mentee.

A car behind us honked impatiently. The driver cleared his throat. "Miss?"

"Go," I croaked. "Get me out of here."

As the cab pulled away, I watched them in the side mirror, two people silhouetted against the harsh hospital lights, planning a future that had been stolen from me.

My phone buzzed. It was a picture message from Kiya. A black and white, grainy ultrasound photo. A tiny, bean-shaped flicker of life.

The message below read: Four weeks along. The doctor said the scare was from stress. I guess the baby knew his daddy was with his boring wife. He' ll be much happier now.

Then, another message. Oh, and I saw you in the cab. That' s a good look for you, Ellery. Watching from the sidelines. Get used to it. Or do the decent thing and get out of the way.

My fingers moved of their own accord, typing a reply.

As you wish.

My phone rang almost immediately. Brendan' s name flashed on the screen. I let it ring four times before answering.

"Hey," I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

"El! Baby, are you home safe?" His voice was breathless, full of false concern.

"Yes. I' m home."

"Listen, I am so, so sorry. This thing at work is a total nightmare. It looks like I' m going to have to fly to the Miami office to deal with it in person. I' ll be gone for three days."

Three days. The exact amount of time it would take for the serum to arrive.

"Okay," I said.

He paused, clearly expecting a fight, or at least some disappointment. "Okay? You' re not mad?"

The sound of Kiya' s impatient voice came from the background. "Brendan, are you done? The doctor said I need to rest."

"In a minute!" he snapped, covering the receiver. He spoke to me again, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone he used when he wanted to manipulate me. "I' ll be back on the 24th, I promise. We' ll celebrate my birthday together. Just us. Wait for me, El. Please. Don' t go anywhere."

"We' ll see," I said, and hung up the phone.

I stared out the window at the blurred city lights. He was juggling us. Compartmentalizing. He thought he could have it all-the respectable, brilliant wife and the young, adoring mistress with his baby. He thought I would just wait patiently for him to come home.

He had no idea that I was already gone.

When I got back to the empty house, a small, discreetly packaged international parcel was waiting on the doorstep. I picked it up. It was light, but felt heavier than the world.

Inside, nestled in foam, was a small, clinical-looking vial filled with a clear liquid, and a single sheet of paper with instructions printed in stark black letters.

Directions for use: Ingest entire contents. Effects will begin within one hour. Retrograde and anterograde amnesia targeting specified neural pathways will be comprehensive. WARNING: The effects of this serum are absolute and irreversible. Proceed with extreme caution.

I placed the vial on my nightstand, next to the small, black velvet box. My escape plan was now complete. All I had to do was wait for the clock to run out on my old life.