Three Years In Chains, A Lifetime Of Vengeance

When my fingertips touched the half-open door, my heart pounded hard in my chest.

I spent three years in prison after taking the blame for my husband, Michael Rivera. The sentence was reduced by three months because I saved people three times while I was in prison.

The freedom I received just before Christmas felt like a beam of light. It lit up the world that had stayed dark for two years and nine months.

With that surprise in my heart, I hurried home from prison. I imagined the smile Michael would show when I opened the door. I also imagined my daughter, Lily, running into my arms while calling out, "Mommy" in her soft voice.

That hope was the reason I traded nearly three years of prison. It was the belief that carried me through the cold nights. My home, my husband, and my daughter were all safe and waiting for me.

No. 18 on Central Avenue in Kregan was the home I missed for nearly three years.

I slowly pushed the door open. The scent in the entryway made me stop where I stood.

The smell was not jasmine.

Before I went to prison, Michael gave me a bottle of jasmine diffuser oil. He said the smell was as fresh as I was. I always placed it on the shelf in the entryway.

Now the air held a sweet perfume. The smell was strong, like an overripe apple giving off its last burst of sweetness before it began to rot. The scent made my nose itch.

The bottle of jasmine diffuser oil was gone.

My eyes moved across the entryway wall. My heart sank.

The family photo of the three of us at the beach was gone. Lily's picture in her princess dress from her first birthday was gone as well.

Faint marks stayed on the wall where the photos once hung. Those marks looked like scars, reminding me that something had changed.

There was also no Christmas tree in the living room.

A sense of foreboding filled me. Breathing suddenly felt difficult.

"Michael?" My voice came out careful and uncertain as I called into the living room. The sound carried through the quiet house, and the echo only made the emptiness feel heavier.

No one answered.

Even so, the house didn't look empty. Signs of life surrounded me, yet none of them felt like they belonged to me.

Two wine glasses with stems rested on the table. Faint lipstick stains marked the rims. The shade was a deep red I had never used.

A black silk nightgown hung loosely across the sofa. The design showed too much skin, and the size was larger than anything I wore. The same strong perfume still clung to the fabric.

Slow steps carried me toward the sofa. As my hand brushed across the surface, I noticed a fresh scratch.

Without pausing to think, I crouched down and slid my fingers into the narrow space beside it. My fingertips touched something small and hard beneath the sofa.

I carefully pulled it free. A small box rested in my palm.

It was Lily's word puzzle box. One corner had already broken.

For a brief moment, shock hit me. Then everything inside me fell silent.

That box was Lily's favorite birthday gift. I was the one who gave it to her when she turned three.

Word puzzles always made her happy.

She wrapped her arms around my neck that day and spoke in her soft little voice. "Mommy, this box is so pretty. I want to be a puzzle master."

The day they took me to prison, she held the same box tight in her arms. Tears streamed down her face while she grabbed the hem of my clothes and refused to let go.

I remembered every bit of it. To Lily, that word puzzle box was a treasure. She would've never left it forgotten under a sofa.

Yet now it sat in a dark corner, tossed aside like trash. Dust covered the surface.

Where was Lily? Where was my little sweetheart?

Then a sound reached me from upstairs. A man and a woman laughed together in the bedroom above. Their playful voices drifted down the staircase and landed clearly in my ears.

Those voices were familiar.

I knew them the moment they reached my ears. Michael was the man speaking. My husband. The one I had spent three years missing. The woman laughing with him was Sofia Nelson, the friend I trusted more than anyone.

Rage rushed through me without warning. Then just as suddenly, everything inside me went still.

Without making a sound, I slipped Lily's word puzzle box back beneath the sofa.

My feet carried me toward the stairs before I even realized what I was doing. Each step felt heavier than the last as I moved upward.

The bedroom door upstairs hadn't been fully closed. A small gap remained. Through that opening, the scene inside came into view.

Three years ago I went to prison in Michael's place. Now the man I protected lay naked in bed with Sofia, the woman I once called my closest friend.

Sofia's arm rested across his chest. Satisfaction showed on her face while Michael leaned down and pressed a kiss against her neck. The way he moved with her made the meaning clear.

With a playful tone, Sofia spoke first. "Tell me something, Michael. When Anna learns Lily is dead, do you think she'll lose her mind?"

Lily... dead?

The words hit me like a blow. The warmth drained from my body, and for a moment I almost lost my balance.

My teeth clamped down hard on my lip to stop any sound from escaping. The taste of blood spread across my tongue.

"If she does lose her mind, even better," Michael said coldly. "She's a problem as long as she stays alive. She's the only one who knows how I got her to take the blame for that car accident. And don't forget something else. The insurance policy I bought for her lists me as the only beneficiary. Once she's gone, that $500, 000 payout comes straight to me. After that, nothing will stop us from staying together."

Insurance?

Fragments of memory rushed back all at once.

Back then Michael told me he had hit someone with his car. He cried while begging me to take the blame for him. He promised it was only accidental and said the sentence would be short. I trusted him. In court, I accepted every charge so he could stay free and raise Lily.

Before the accident, he had insisted that I sign a high value personal accident insurance policy. At the time I believed it meant he cared about my safety. Now the truth finally showed itself. From the very beginning, he had planned to kill me.

My daughter was dead. My husband wanted me dead. The woman I trusted had betrayed me.

The three years I spent in prison had only led me into a lie that had been planned from the start.

The family I once believed in had been destroyed by them.

For a moment, the urge to burst into that room and kill them both with my own hands almost took control of me.

But I forced myself to stop.

My jaw tightened while my hands curled into fists.

I couldn't stay there any longer. Without making a sound, I turned away and walked downstairs.

Just as I reached the front door, someone appeared outside. It was my neighbor, Mary Harris.

Her voice rang out the moment she saw me. "Anna? You're back?"

"Yeah," I answered.

The laughter from upstairs stopped at once.

Footsteps rushed across the floor above. By the time I looked back, Michael and Sofia had already pulled on their clothes. Both of them ran downstairs barefoot.

Michael saw me first. Shock flashed across his face. Then panic replaced it.