My mother-in-law pressed a pillow over my face while I lay helpless in a body cast, whispering that I should have died when I went over the balcony. She thought she was finishing what she'd started—but detectives were already listening, and what they uncovered afterward revealed I wasn't the first wife Ethan Morgan had nearly lost.

Two hours later, at Fulton County Central Precinct.

Ethan Morgan sat inside Interrogation Room 3, handcuffed to a heavy steel table bolted to the concrete floor. The room was cold, lit only by a single buzzing fluorescent strip overhead.

His expensive suit was rumpled, his hair messy, his hands trembling as he stared at his reflection in the heavy two-way mirror set into the wall.

Across the hall, behind the two-way glass, Detective Mason stood alongside the District Attorney, reviewing the forensic updates from the Morgan estate.

"We have enough to charge Margaret with attempted murder and kidnapping," the DA said, closing his folder. "But Ethan's lawyers are claiming he had no knowledge of the basement suite. They're setting him up as an innocent bystander who was manipulated by his mother."

"He pushed Claire off that balcony," Mason growled, slamming his fist onto the ledge. "And he pushed Emily four years ago!"

"We don't have physical proof that Ethan was on the balcony when Claire fell, Mason," the DA pointed out frustration. "It's her word against his, and she's currently heavily medicated in a trauma unit."

Inside the interrogation room, Ethan adjusted his handcuffs, letting out a long, weary sigh. He believed his high-priced legal team would have him out on bail by morning.

Suddenly, the overhead fluorescent light flickered twice... and went completely dark.

The emergency backup generator didn't kick on. The small red indicator light on the security camera in the corner of the ceiling died instantly.

"Hey!" Ethan shouted, slamming his handcuffed wrists against the metal table. "What's going on with the lights?!"

No answer came from the observation room.

CLICK.

The heavy steel door of Interrogation Room 3 unlocked with a sharp, heavy thud, swinging slowly inward on its iron hinges.

A figure stepped through the threshold, illuminated only by the faint green light of the hallway exit sign.

She wore a long black coat. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders. And around her neck, the silver emerald pendant gleamed brightly in the dark.

Ethan’s breath hitched in his chest. His eyes went wide as saucers as his voice choked in his throat.

"No..." Ethan whimpered, backing his chair against the concrete wall until it couldn't move any further. "No, no, no... you're not real... you're a hallucination... my mother said you were locked away..."