Chapter 1
The prison gate groaned open, and Sally Zale stepped out, her frame thin and worn.
“Keep your nose clean. Don’t come back,” the guard muttered.
Sally was free, leaving behind the cell that had held her for three years.
Sunlight, bright and strange, warmed her skin.
A glossy Maybach waited nearby. Two people, one tall, one small, walked toward her.
“Sally, let’s get you home,” the man said.
She looked up, meeting their eyes.
It was her husband, Brad Zale, and their son, Nick Zale.
Brad paused, caught off guard.
Three
Three years had changed her.
Sally was now frail, almost hollow.
The bold, lively woman he’d known was gone, replaced by someone fragile, uneasy.
He’d made sure she wasn’t mistreated inside.
‘So what’s this?’ he wondered.
Then he realized quickly-she was acting.
Flashes of three years ago surged back, and his face turned to stone.
‘Even if it isn’t an act, she’s earned this,’ he told himself.
“Hop in,” he said, his voice cold as steel, no trace of remorse. “Three years in there should’ve taught you something. Don’t mess up again.”
Nick stared, then blinked in disdain.
Sally used to be stunning, vibrant, with a smile that could melt hearts.
Now, he barely knew her.
He shook it off, his face tightening. “Dad’s right. Lena’s too good; she let it go. But, Mom, if you hurt her again, Dad and I won’t forgive you.”
“Let it go?” Sally’s voice was dull, her expression blank.
After a beat, pain and bitter irony flared in her eyes. She gave a harsh laugh, “You threw me in jail, and you think you get to talk about forgiveness?”
Her husband and child she’d poured her heart into were the ones who’d gotten her locked away three years ago.
Brad had saved her life once, and she’d been so grateful she’d sworn to marry him.
Back then, the Zales had less than her family, the Smiths. She’d brought money, connections, even fought her mom to marry him.
After the wedding, she’d quit her career as a talented healer with a gift for traditional medicine. Then she became a full-time
mom.
She’d swapped her dreams for soccer games and bake sales, slowly turning into a tired, invisible housewife.
She’d thought her sacrifices would mean something. But Brad was always distant, icy.
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Even Nick, her own son, kept her at a distance.
“Mom, you don’t even work,” he’d scoff. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
Sally figured they were just built that way, cool, reserved.
Then Lena Yasmin, Brad’s old love, came back.
With her, Brad changed. The stiff, polished man softened, his smile warm and alive in a way Sally had never seen.
She realized then that he could look at someone like that.
On their anniversary, Sally was curled up in pain, an old postpartum issue flaring.
She’d called Brad, pleading, but he’d cut her off. He was too busy celebrating Lena’s birthday.
Later, she’d flatlined on the operating table, dodging death by a thread. The hospital sent critical alerts, but Brad and Nick never showed.
When she finally limped home, the house was a wreck, Nick was sullen, and Brad didn’t care.
“You’re a terrible mom,” Nick had snapped. “You’re gone forever and don’t even clean! Lena’s so much better.”
Sally’s heart froze.
She’d nearly died, and no one had bothered to check on her.
She told herself Nick was just a kid, that Brad’s coldness would fade. She thought that was what every family was like.
They had a son; divorce wasn’t an option. He needed a home.
Then, at a charity gala, it all collapsed. Lena fell from a stage and blamed Sally.
Brad and Nick didn’t even glance at the cameras. They took Lena’s side, no hesitation.
Sally, clutching her stomach, had dropped to her knees, begging Brad to believe her. Gravel cut her hands, blood seeping out.
Brad just stood there, frowning, brushing dirt off his custom suit like she was a nuisance.
Nick pushed her back, his voice sharp. “You’re a horrible person! You don’t deserve to be my mom. If you’d died when I was born, Lena could’ve been my mom!”
Sally hit the ground, her heart dead. Then she laughed a raw, broken sound. She laughed at her own blind love, her own foolishness.
In the end, they’d had her locked up for assault.
She
spent three years in a cell.
Prison was a harsh place, packed with sly,
Cutthroat inmates. For three years, Sally faced constant cruelty.
Brad and Nick never once checked on her, not even a single visit.
If it weren’t for that woman… she’d have died in there.
Brad’s voice sliced through, cold and distant. “Nick and I are ready to let your record slide and take you home. That’s generous enough, Lena’s waiting. Let’s not keep her.”
Nick fidgeted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, Mom, stop with the drama. Lena’s baking me those teddy bear cookies tonight. If we’re late, the ice cream cake I got her will melt.”
Sally stood frozen, their words hitting her like a dull ache. A sharp, bitter irony twisted inside her.
She heard him. Teddy bear cookies.
Nick probably didn’t even remember Sally’d created that tricky recipe for him, tweaking it over and over just to see him smile.
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Lena had just copied it later.
Even though it was the same recipe, Nick always swore Lena’s were better.
And now, they had shown up to get her from prison, not because they cared about her, but because they were thinking of
Lena.
When it came to her or Lena, Brad and Nick would always pick Lena, always trust Lena.
Even her son, the boy she’d carried for nine months, felt like a stranger now.
Sally raised her head, her voice steady. “I’m not coming back with you.”
Brad’s cold stare flared with annoyance and contempt.
“Not coming back?” he said, frowning, “You’ve got a criminal record now, Sally. What are you going to do without us? Three years, and you still don’t get it?”
“That’s
hell.”
my problem. You don’t want a wife and mom with a record? Fine. I don’t want a husband and son who threw me into
Some people never change, no matter how hard you try to reach them. But life? One hard lesson from life is enough.
Three years ago, she’d loved Brad and Nick with everything she had. Even when they brushed her off, looked down on her, and fawned over Lena, she’d held onto hope they’d come around.
Now, after three years of suffering, her heart was done.
Her husband and her son… she couldn’t hold onto them anymore, and she didn’t want to.
Sally’s voice was calm, resolute. “I want a divorce.”
