I apologized to him. I told him I was so sorry for bringing that monster into our family.
Evan looked at me with an expression I couldn’t understand and said softly, “Claire… when we get out of here, you’re going to be very angry with me.”
I thought the fear had finally gotten to him. Then he leaned forward. He planted both feet firmly on the flooded floorboards.
And he stood up. After fifteen years in a wheelchair. For a few seconds, I couldn’t even process what I was seeing.
Then Evan reached inside his jacket, pulled out a hidden cutting tool, and began slicing through the wire binding my seatbelt.
But the fact that my brother could walk wasn’t even the biggest secret he had been keeping from me.
Because once we escaped the sinking SUV without my husband noticing we were still alive, Evan brought me to a hidden location.
And there, he showed me evidence he had been gathering for over a decade.
Evidence about the accident that took our parents. About my husband’s family.
About my marriage. And about something my husband had been secretly slipping into my body for years while pretending he was taking care of me.
