When the massive chandelier fell, my husband ignored our daughter’s screams to protect his ex’s child. I shielded her with my own back. After the dust cleared, my daughter wiped my tears and whispered, “Mommy, let’s leave daddy behind.” When my husband finally turned to look at us…

the silence stretch, my gaze hardening into polished obsidian. “As for the color… it is inspired by the blood I bled out on a marble floor in the Hamptons two years ago, while you walked away.”

Dylan staggered backward as if I had shot him in the chest. All the color drained from his face, leaving him a ghastly, sickly white. The truth of that night continue reading …