Chapter 3 - THE BURN THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN
At urgent care, the doctor confirmed what Emily already suspected: her palm wasn’t burned, but there was reddening from the heat, bruising around her wrist, and tenderness where Ivan had forced her down toward the grate.
“Do you feel safe going home?”
Emily answered honestly.
“Not tonight.”
She called her younger sister, Claire, who lived in Fairfield with two teenage sons and an endlessly forgiving golden retriever. Claire didn’t ask whether Emily was exaggerating. She simply said, “Come here.”
By the time Emily reached Claire’s house, Ivan had sent nine messages.
You made me look insane.
Mark only saw the end.
Mom is hysterical.
Bring back the module.
That last one made Emily stop at the bottom of Claire’s front steps.
Not Come home.
Not Are you all right.
Not even We need to talk.
Bring back the module.
Claire took one look at Emily’s face and said, “Upstairs first. Explain later.”
Emily showered, changed into borrowed sweatpants, and sat at Claire’s kitchen island with an ice pack on her wrist while the footage downloaded from the security system onto her laptop.
The backyard camera belonged to a whole-house system Emily had upgraded six months earlier after package thefts and a contractor dispute. The account, billing, and cloud storage were in her name because she handled the house. Ivan had never cared about that until tonight.
Emily opened the file from 4:12 p.m., twenty-three minutes before the first guests arrived.
The picture showed the back door, the grill, half the pool fence, and the edge of the patio table where Cynthia had later sat making comments about wives and seasoning.
Ivan stepped into frame holding a bottle of beer.
Cynthia followed him.
The audio was clear enough to catch ice rattling in her glass.
“Smile more,” Cynthia told him. “Mark notices nerves.”
Ivan said, “I’m not nervous. I’m tired.”
“Then don’t let her start.”
Emily’s fingers stilled on the keyboard.
Her?
Ivan laughed once without humor.
“She knows how to perform.”
Cynthia answered, “Only until she feels cornered.”
Emily leaned closer.
The clip continued, but Claire came back into the kitchen carrying tea.
“Anything?”
Emily hit pause.
“I don’t know yet.”
That was true.
But the conversation on the screen had already shifted something essential.
May you like
Ivan and Cynthia had not been discussing whether Emily would enjoy the barbecue.
They had been discussing how to handle her.
