Chapter 2

Margo zoomed in on the iPad screen. "That 'is' you."

My throat seized. The woman on the footage had my exact posture.

"Right," I forced a laugh, backing off the porch. "Forgot about that. Late night walk. Work stress."

Margo frowned.

"Thanks anyway." I turned and walked away before she could ask more.

Inside my own house, I locked the door and slid down the wood. If she was a stranger, how did her thumbprint work? Why did Dominic hold her with such practiced intimacy? I dug my nails into my palms.

At 11:00 PM, with Freya asleep and Dominic in the shower, I wedged a button camera between the perfume bottles on my vanity, angling it toward the antique mirror and the bed.

Locked in the study, I watched the iPad.

Midnight. One o'clock. Two. Only Dominic’s sleeping form moved. The mirror remained a block of solid shadow.

At 2:14 AM, the screen glitched.

I bolted upright. Dominic stirred, reaching out to tap his nightstand speaker.

A tinny music box melody bled through the walls. A lullaby.

On screen, a white blur detached from the mirror's edge. A figure crawled onto the mattress, sliding under the duvet next to my husband.

I dropped the iPad, sprinted down the hall, and kicked the bedroom door wide open, slamming the lights on.

Dominic recoiled from the harsh bulb. He was alone.

"Where is she?" I tore the duvet off the bed.

Dominic sat up, bewildered. "Genevieve, what the hell?"

I dropped to my knees, flashing my phone under the bed. Nothing. I scrambled up and checked behind the mirror. Empty.

But the air was thick with the cloying, sweet scent of tuberose.

"You smell it!" I grabbed his arm. "She was just here! You played that lullaby!"

Dominic ripped his arm away. His confusion morphed into cold fury. "There is no one here but you and your cheap perfume!"

"I don't own tuberose! It’s on you!"

"Enough!" He stood up, towering over me. "I work all day, and now you invent a phantom rival to torture me?"

"You played the music box," I insisted. "I saw her on camera."

"You need psychiatric help." He grabbed a pillow and his phone, shoving past my shoulder. "I'm sleeping in the guest room. Don't come near me."

The door slammed.

I stood alone gripping my hair. The tuberose scent faded. The silence of the house pressed in.

I tailed him the next morning. Dominic didn't drive to the financial district. He bypassed the bank entirely, pulling into a West End alleyway.

I parked a block away. No corporate branding. Just an unmarked black door. A suited man checked Dominic’s watch before waving him inside.

A private cigar club.

I waited three hours in my car. When Dominic emerged, his posture was loose. Refreshed.

That night, I waited on the sofa, coat still on.

"Did you go out?" he asked, loosening his tie.

"Where were you today?"

"Client meetings. Finalizing a merger."

"Since when do clients meet at an unmarked club in the West End?"

Dominic’s hands froze on his collar. He slowly dropped them and closed the distance between us. "You followed me."

"You brought that thing into our home," I stood up. "And lied to me."

"You tracked me like a schizophrenic." He stepped into my space. "I'm documenting all of this, Genevieve. The hallucinations, the night terrors, the stalking. Keep pushing, and I’ll file for sole custody. No judge is leaving Freya with an insane mother."

Freya was my weak spot. I looked into his eyes. There was no bluff. He would use my terror to take my daughter.

To survive this, I had to play along.

I let my shoulders drop, forcing the tension from my jaw. I let a tear spill over my lashes. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"I'm just so tired. You're right." I looked at the floor. "The stress at the firm is breaking me. I'll see a therapist."

Dominic studied me for a long moment. A patronizing smile touched his lips. "I know you will, baby."

He went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, pressing it into my hands.

"Drink. Go rest." His eyes tracked my throat. "Let me take care of you."

I hated his tone, but I downed the water.

His smile reached his eyes. "Good girl."

That night, Dominic returned to our bed.

Around 1:00 AM, a leaden heaviness sank into my bones. I tried to shift my leg. My muscles refused to fire. Paralysis set in.

Out of the pitch black, the plinking notes of the lullaby began.