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“Run,” I say immediately, because that’s the only answer I know. “Disappear.”

She shakes her head. “I have daughters. They can’t live like that. Always moving. Looking over their shoulders.”

I nod. I get it.

“Fake your death,” I say.

Her eyes widen.

“It could buy you some time. At least get Brett off your back. If he thinks you’re dead, he won’t send somebody else after you.”

She stares at me like I just handed her an antidote made out of cyanide.

Yes, it’ll be painful, but it’s her only way out.

Finally, she seems to understand that. She nods. Barely, but it’s a yes.

“How were you supposed to do it?” she asks, her voice so quiet, I lean in.

“Home invasion,” I say. “Middle of the night. Break-in gone wrong.”

She gasps, then covers her mouth.

“Our daughters would’ve been here,” she says as her face crumples again.

I don’t say anything.

There’s nothing to say, really.

She knows what that means. If she didn’t before, she definitely understands now what a piece of shit her husband is.

Sable wipes her face with the back of her hand, her jaw set. The tears are gone as quick as they came, replaced with something steelier.

Resolve.

“Okay,” she says. “Help me do it.”

“You sure?”

“No,” she admits. “But what choice do I have?

She stands on shaky legs, still hugging her arms across her chest. “I have to pick up the girls.”

“I’m coming with you.”

She shoots me a look, prompting me to shrug.

“While you’re over there not trusting me, I’m over here not trusting you.”

She hesitates, then nods, her eyes dropping to my hand. “Are you bringingthatwith you?”

“Never leave home without it.”

She goes to speak, but changes her mind.

“After you,” I say, lifting my arm for fanfare.

I’m halfway concerned that she’ll bolt as soon as the door opens, but she doesn’t. We settle into the white Lexus I’ve been watching and head up to the school to pick up the girls.