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CALIFORNIA, 2011

The onslaught on social media is brutal. Faceless keyboard warriors are questioning my motivation for setting up the foundation, while others are posting quotes from my speech at the convention center last night, calling for an investigation into my business practices and eligibility for a government grant.

“Only she would have something to gain from doing this,” posts an anonymous-sounding account. While another responds with an audio clip of me saying “ I have nothing to hide. ”

The injustice of it all rips through me, but even more terrifying is the thought that whoever did this isn’t quite finished yet.

The front door slams and I close my eyes, wishing I could press the rewind button, back to a week or so ago, when my husband and I were the same people we’ve been for the past twenty years.

“I heard what happened at La Jolla,” says Brad, coming into the kitchen. “Are you OK?”

I nod stoically, but all I really want to do is fall into his arms and have him tell me that everything is going to be all right.

“Do you think…” He lets out a heavy sigh. “Do you think it’s got something to do with everything else that’s been going on?”

“I don’t think we can rule it out,” I say honestly.

“So, it might have something to do with your sister?” he asks, drawing quote marks around a word that up until last night he thought didn’t apply to me.

“It would be too much of a coincidence for it not to be.”

“Do you think she’s the woman on the CCTV at Hannah’s school; the woman I met in the bar?”

“And the woman at the conference last night…” I say, adding to the list.

He looks at me and my chest heaves, buckling under the weight of the monumental burden I’ve unwittingly brought to our door. “It’s impossible to tell. I haven’t seen Cassie in over twenty-five years—she was only seventeen when I left, and I wouldn’t know what she looks like as a forty-two-year-old.”

“But what reason would she have to come for you now?” asks Brad. “After all this time, and with such… such vengeance.”

“It got really messy,” I start, without knowing where I’m going. “There was a lot of finger-pointing, lots of unanswered questions. She felt I was to blame, in part, for what happened…” I swallow the pull at the back of my throat as a picture of Ben flashes in front of my eyes.

“And were you?” he asks, his eyes narrowing, as if afraid of the answer.

“No,” I say with conviction, but the lie burns a hole in my tongue.

“So, if this is your sister, you have no idea what she wants, or how far she’s prepared to go to get it…”

A shiver runs through me. “I assume she’ll let me know all in good time,” I say dourly.

He manically runs a hand through his beard, his eyes darting from side to side as his ravaged brain slips into fight-or-flight mode. “Well, then, I think under the circumstances, Hannah should be our priority.”

“She always is.”

He nods thoughtfully. “So, I’m going to take her to my parents’ place, until we know exactly what’s going on.”

A guttural sob escapes from deep within my chest. “We’re supposed to be a family,” I choke. “I need you here with me.”

His jaw tenses and I can’t see any part of the man who vowed on our wedding day never to do anything to jeopardize my need to feel safe in a world that I could only remember being anything but. It took me a long time to believe him, but any misgivings were immediately eradicated when Hannah came along. Because seeing Brad step up and be the dad that our little girl deserved lit up my world in a way I never thought possible. And together, we’d carved out the perfect family life, becoming a symbol of respect within our community. I’d lulled myself into believing that nothing could ever upend our standing, but I hadn’t reckoned on someone coming in with a wrecking ball, set on destroying everything we’d created. It turns out karma’s a bitch.

“I think Hannah needs me more,” he says bluntly.

“She needs her mother ,” I counter.

“But her mother can’t keep her safe,” he says, cruelly.

“This isn’t my fault,” I cry, feeling as if my heart is being ripped out of my chest.

“I don’t care whose fault it is. I only care about keeping Hannah out of harm’s way and it seems I can’t do that here.”

A wave of paranoia suddenly overwhelms me, its current dragging me into a bottomless vortex. “Is this all part of the plan?” I ask.

His brow furrows. “ What? ”

“Is this what you intended all along? To make me look like an unfit mother so you could take Hannah away from me?”

He looks at me wide-eyed. “Are you completely insane ?”

“Well, it would make sense,” I say, no longer able to control my rambling thoughts. “Maybe you’re in this together, you and this woman…”

“Can you hear yourself right now?” he says, throwing his hands onto his head. “This is utter madness.”

“I won’t allow you to take my daughter and play happy families with another woman,” I cry. “You’re not going to use my past as an excuse to justify what you’re doing.”

“If you’d been honest about your past, then perhaps none of this would be happening,” he barks.

There it is. All the proof I needed to know how far my husband will go to exonerate his own actions. “So, you did set this all up?” I accuse. “You dug around and found out what you could use on me to make me believe that I was being punished by my past.”

His eyes stare straight through me, as if I’m nothing more than a stranger.

“Did you think you could unsettle me enough by sending someone to my door— our home —sniffing around for information under the guise of writing a book? Or were you hoping that our daughter being taken by someone claiming to be her aunt would send me over the edge?” I glare at him, digging my fingernails into my palms to stop me from lashing out. “How long have you been sitting on this minefield of information? You and your fancy woman must have been delighted to know you had so much ammunition to use against me. Have you had fun, the pair of you, watching my life fall apart?”

I will him to give me something, anything , but he stands there open-mouthed, caught out.

“You should have got out while you could,” I go on. “Cut your losses and ridden off into the sunset together. But you wanted it all, didn’t you, and you thought by taking me down—ruining my reputation, my standing in this community, bringing into question my ability to be a mother—you’d take my daughter with you…”

He turns and moves toward the door, wordlessly picking up Hannah’s Rapunzel backpack from the kitchen island as he goes.

“Put that back right now .”

He freezes, holding it in mid-air.

“I swear to god, if you go anywhere near Hannah, I will track you down and make your life a living hell.”

He turns painfully slowly to face me; his skin ashen-white. “Is this the real Nicole Alderton I’m seeing now? Is this who you’ve been hiding for all these years?”

My jaw spasms, fighting to stop the truth from coming out.

He nods, as if he’s finally seen the light into my past. “Maybe the media had every reason not to believe your version of events.”

I fix him with a steely glare. Maybe they had.