Chapter 1

My wife, Vicky Charleston, a lawyer, dragged me to court for the eighth time over custody of a dog.

Partway through the trial, she finally caved and sent me a message.

[Name whatever terms you want, as long as you hand the dog over to Derek.]

She used to be someone who wouldn't bend, not even a little.

To avoid any appearance of a conflict of interest, she'd once stood by and watched my father, Austin Fletcher, get framed and thrown in prison without lifting a finger.

Now, to help her foster brother, Derek Charleston, win a dog we'd raised together, she'd forged twenty-six pieces of fake evidence, faked the dog's birth certificate, even its purchase records.

I'd refused to give in. We'd fought over it seven times.

But this time, to everyone's shock, I didn't argue at all.

"Your honor, I'm done contesting this."

Then I sent Vicky a message.

[The only thing I want is for you to help me get my father's financial case reopened.]

On the plaintiff's side, Vicky let out a long breath of relief.

What she didn't know was that, while she'd been signing the custody transfer agreement, a divorce agreement had been slipped in among the pages.

Chapter 1

"Give me the password to Peaches's account. I'm deleting it."

Outside the courthouse, Vicky Charleston chased after me, her voice clipped with command.

She'd always believed I ran the pet influencer page just to chase clout.

What she never saw was that every shot in my feed was of her. Every clip was one of our happiest moments together.

I handed over my phone and watched her tap [Delete Account] without a moment's hesitation.

Nearly a million followers vanished in an instant.

"If you keep it running, your obsessive fans will just go after Derek. Better to cut it off now than deal with the fallout later."

She waved the forged evidence in front of my face again, then tossed it straight into the trash.

The corner of her mouth curled into a satisfied smile, like someone who'd just won a battle.

Except the winner wasn't me.

Derek Charleston stood there holding Peaches's leash, leaning into Vicky's side, looking utterly harmless.

"Vicky, I promise this is the last time I'll be selfish."

Then he blinked at me, all wide-eyed and pleading.

"I just love Peaches so much. You're not mad at me, are you? Can't you just forgive me this once?"

He tilted his head, milking the moment for all it was worth, without a trace of guilt on his face.

Peaches was the Samoyed Vicky and I had raised together since she was a puppy.

She'd watched us go from strangers to soulmates to something that was supposed to last.

Eight full years.

Vicky had once told me, "Trey, we're keeping her for life. You're her dad, I'm her mom."

My hands curled into fists subconsciously.

Vicky only reached over and stroked the top of Derek's head, her voice going soft.

"You can have anything you want. It's just a dog."

The moment the account went dark, the fans lost their minds.

[Peaches has always belonged to the guy who runs this page. How is she suddenly someone else's dog?]

[This has to be a publicity stunt, right?]

[This guy's stealing the blogger's dog, and the lawyer wife is taking the thief's side?]

Derek looked visibly humiliated, so Vicky jumped online to smooth things over for him.

[My husband lost his mother young, and his father's in prison. It makes sense that he'd be starved for affection, which is why he's been clinging to my foster brother's dog.]

She laid my most painful history bare for an audience of strangers, like it was nothing.

The insults poured in on my phone, one after another.

Vicky walked off with her arm around Derek, the two of them laughing together.

"Peaches is so white. She looks just like you."

"Are you calling me a dog? You're the one who looks like a golden retriever."

She kept walking, getting smaller in the distance, never noticing that I was buying a plane ticket out of town.

Chapter 2

The next day, Vicky and I had agreed to meet and talk through reopening my father's case.

I waited outside her office for three hours.

Her secretary finally came in, her expression strained.

"Ms. Charleston got tied up and won't make it back anytime soon. Maybe you should..."

I was holding a stack of evidence nearly waist-high, and my arms just gave out.

The papers scattered across the floor.

The statute of limitations on my father's case had only three days left before it expired.

I dropped to my knees to gather the pages, humiliated, when a notification popped up on my phone: Derek's social media feed.

The background was a pet hospital. Vicky was there with him, helping deworm Peaches.

[I told her I could handle this alone, but she insisted on skipping work to come with me. Is this what it feels like to have someone care about you?]

Last year, when my appendix burst, she hadn't set foot in the hospital once.

All she'd said was, "I hate the smell of disinfectant."

My fingers went white around the phone.

I tried reaching other lawyers. They all turned me down as gently as they could.

"Ms. Charleston mentioned you're her husband. If we helped you, it would look like favoritism. That wouldn't be right..."

I carried the evidence I'd stayed up nights organizing and walked home against the wind.

Vicky didn't come back until evening. I was sitting on the couch waiting.

"Didn't you promise you'd help me reopen my father's case?"

She peeled off her coat and pressed her fingers to her temples, looking worn out.

"I know he was framed, but the plaintiff's evidence is airtight. Even if it's fake, there's no picking it apart. And I've been swamped lately. Can't you just let me catch my breath?"

The words lodged in my throat like a splinter.

I'd just been scrolling through the couples' pet account she'd started with Derek.

The two of them had biked along the lake with Peaches and stayed out until they'd watched the sunset together.

Every comment underneath was glowing.

[She looks so happy here, nothing like how down she used to seem on that other account. Now that's what a real couple looks like.]

[The last one was basically just a business deal. So fake.]

[A real couple is so much better to root for. Good thing she cut ties with that old blogger.]

...

None of it looked like someone too busy to breathe.

I hauled the thick stack of evidence over and dropped it hard on the table.

Swallowing the bitterness rising in my throat, I said, "Take these two days for yourself. Just show up when the hearing starts the day after tomorrow."

She turned me down flat.

"Not the day after tomorrow. That's Derek's birthday."

Before I could respond, she added, "Tomorrow doesn't work either. Derek and I already planned to film together, and I still have to write the script."

My voice cracked. "My father can't wait. He has a heart condition."

Vicky closed her eyes, looking helpless.

"Trey, don't make me be the bad guy here. Your father's case is just a financial dispute. He'll be out in a few years. There's no reason to waste both our time over it."

I stared at her, stunned, and it took me a moment to process that those words had actually come out of her mouth.

Before I could say anything, her phone rang. She picked up, and her face changed instantly.

"What? Your stomach is acting up again?"

"Okay, I'll be right there."

Vicky spun around to leave. I grabbed the hem of her coat. "I need to tell you something. We're divo—"

She yanked her arm free before I could finish.

"Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow. Derek's in too much pain to even talk. He's in real danger right now!"

Vicky walked out without looking back. My head slammed hard into the corner of the table, and the back of my neck went ice cold.

I saw blood, bright and startling.

"Vicky!"

The cry for help had barely left my mouth before the door slammed shut behind her.

Chapter 3

I came to again in the hospital.

"Mr. Fletcher, thank goodness the cleaning lady found you and got you here. We stitched up the cut on your head. You need to rest."

The doctor studied my chart, frowning deeply.

"One more thing," he said, lowering his voice.

"You need to be more careful from now on. If you'd gotten here even a little later, we might not be having this conversation."

I gripped the edge of the blanket, my chest aching.

The doctor asked, "Where's your wife? I have a few things I need to tell her."

I shook my head and said nothing.

I'd already called her three times. She'd turned her phone off long before that.

That evening, I went home.

The moment I stepped through the door, Peaches broke free of her leash and slammed into me.

Derek clapped a hand over his mouth, looking startled.

"Trey, I'm really sorry. I was just training Peaches to guard the house. I didn't realize it was you coming in."

Pain shot through me as I braced myself against the wall.

The wound on the back of my head, still not fully healed, had split open again, and it felt like something was scraping the inside of my skull.

Vicky didn't even glance my way. She just reached over and patted the top of Derek's head.

"It's the dog's fault, not yours. Don't worry about it."

White fur drifted through the air, settling everywhere.

Vicky was a clean freak. She'd always made me keep Peaches locked in a crate.

"The second I find a single dog hair in this house, we're getting rid of her," she had said.

Now the whole place was in chaos, and somehow none of it mattered anymore.

Vicky frowned at me.

"There's ketchup all over the floor, and nobody bothered to clean it up. Derek almost slipped and fell."

"Where were you, anyway?"

I looked down at what she'd mistaken for spilled ketchup, my blood, and pressed a hand over the wound splitting open on my head.

"Don't worry about it."

Her expression stiffened for a second before she cleared her throat.

"Derek wanted to film something at home. I've been busy shooting and editing all day. I didn't have time to check on you."

My father's case had my mind in knots, and I'd nearly died on top of it.

Meanwhile, she'd spent the whole time at home helping Derek edit his videos.

She used to claim she didn't know how to edit and had no interest in learning. Now, every single frame of Derek's footage was something she'd stayed up all night cutting together herself.

I didn't argue. I didn't fight. I just made my way back to the bedroom, one aching step at a time, to grab the evidence folder.

Vicky followed me in.

"If it can wait, let's push the hearing to next week. I'll have time then."

I didn't even look up. "It can't wait."

There were only two days left.

If the filing deadline passed, my father would be stuck in prison for three more years.

He had underlying health conditions, and his heart could give out at any moment.

Vicky's expression darkened instantly.

"Can't you just be reasonable for once? Derek is young. He needs me. I'm his foster sister. Is it wrong for me to take care of him?"

My voice broke. "My father is old and stuck in prison. He needs someone to take care of him too."

Vicky's patience ran out completely.

"Honestly, it's better that he's old. At least prison's quiet for someone like that. It saves us a lot of trouble."

I froze.

Before she could even think about apologizing, I grabbed my things and turned to leave.

Derek blocked my path, holding up three fingers with a playful grin.

"Trey, I swear, no matter what happens next week, I won't bother you two. Even if Vicky insists on staying with me, I'll turn her down."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Don't bother. I refuse to believe there isn't a single lawyer in this world that Vicky doesn't know."

I turned and walked away without another word.

"Trey!"

Vicky shouted after me. I didn't turn around.

I stepped into the elevator, and just then, my cousin, who worked at the prison, called.

Chapter 4

By the time I reached the prison gate, I was shaking all over, barely able to stay on my feet.

My cousin came rushing out to meet me.

"He's stable for now. There's a doctor treating him inside, but the real problem is that his mood's all over the place. If he gets hit with another five years on a false charge, I don't know if he can..."

Every drop of blood in my body went cold.

There was no time to find another lawyer. I swallowed my pride and called Vicky.

"My father's been framed again. You already know the whole case. Please, just represent him in court this once, I'm begging you..."

Her voice came back ice-cold.

"The second something goes wrong, you run to me for help. Didn't you say you could find a lawyer without me? And here I thought you'd finally learned to stand on your own. Guess not."

My fingers were trembling. I was practically pleading with her.

"Just this once. I'll owe you for it."

There was a long silence on the other end before she spoke again.

"It's not that I don't care. But what if your father really did embezzle that money? I can't afford him dragging us into it."

The call cut off.

The dial tone droning in my ear snuffed out the last bit of hope I had left.

I sank down onto the curb and started dialing, one number after another.

I called every law firm in the city.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fletcher."

"We don't know enough about the case. Getting up to speed would take at least a week, and there's no way we'd be ready in time for the hearing."

Right as I was about to fall apart completely, a message from Vicky popped up on my phone.

[Send me your location. I'll come find you right now.]

I was overjoyed in an instant.

I sent my location and turned down every lawyer who'd reached out to help.

I kept praying, over and over, that the case would still go through.

Three hours passed. Vicky never showed.

I called twice. Both calls were rejected.

Then a message came through.

[Peaches bit Derek. I'm taking him to get his rabies shots. I can't make it right now.]

My mind went blank.

Another message followed right after.

[I'll send you a few good lawyers to look into. Reach out to them.]

A string of phone numbers came through, and then nothing more.

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

That was when word came from inside the prison.

"Mr. Fletcher suffered a sudden heart attack. He passed away despite our best efforts to save him. Please accept our condolences."

My father's aged face lay still under a white sheet.

The breath caught in my chest, and I dropped to my knees.

In that moment, the sobs I'd been holding back tore out of me all at once.

The one family I had left in the world was gone too.

I wiped my eyes, pulled out the divorce agreement Vicky had already signed, and added my own signature.

Then I blocked every way she had of reaching me.

…

It wasn't until Vicky was back at her office that she remembered her father-in-law's case.

She called her assistant in.

"Pull up my father-in-law's case file. I want to see if there's any way to get it overturned."

The assistant lowered her head, stammering.

"He couldn't handle the pressure of being falsely accused. The surgery to save him failed. He passed away."

Vicky shot to her feet.

"There's one more thing," the assistant said, holding out a surgical form. "This is something your husband left for you."

The moment she looked at it, the color drained from her face.