I called Claire before I could talk myself out of it. Adrian had spent two years convincing me she was jealous, dramatic, and destructive. Still, when she answered and heard my voice crack, she didn’t waste a second asking questions. She drove over, looked through the papers with me, and went pale, exactly the same way Dr. Shah had. “Naomi,” she said, very softly, “do you remember Dad’s lawyer warning you not to merge everything too quickly after the wedding?” I nodded. “Adrian pushed you to do it anyway.” I looked at the pages spread across the desk and finally admitted the truth I had been avoiding all morning. My husband hadn’t just lied to me. He had been playing me.
That evening, Claire arranged for me to meet Dr. Shah again, this time in the office of a family lawyer she trusted. I expected more paperwork, maybe a strategy, maybe advice on how to leave quietly. Instead, Dr. Shah introduced me to a woman sitting by the window with both hands wrapped around a paper cup. Her hair was shorter than in the photo I had seen. Her face was leaner. But the eyes were the same. “Naomi,” Dr. Shah said, “this is Rebecca.”
