But she simply couldn’t bring herself to rebel.


    She wanted a divorce, but she couldn’t afford to fall out with Frank.


    Her fingertips dug anxiously at her palm as she met Frank’s gaze. “How am I supposed to clear this up? The photos are already out there.”


    Frank looked worn out, probably exhausted from Marcia’s endless drama. “But they didn’t get a clear shot of Marcia’s face.”


    Elissa felt as though a heavy, waterlogged sponge was wedged in her chest. Her voice came out rough: “So you want me to lie to everyone online–tell them I’m the woman in those photos?”


    She put it bluntly, because she honestly hadn’t expected Frank to make such an outrageous suggestion.


    She’d thought, at most, he’d ask her to issue a statement, say it was all a misunderstanding, maybe that the woman in the pictures was just a friend.


    Frank pressed his lips together, his tone cold and rational. “I can’t think of a better way. This will cool things off quickly. For Atwater Group–and everyone involved–it’s the best oue.”


    Everyone.


    Elissa’s fingers tightened <i>around </i>the edge of theforter.


    He meant Marcia, of course.


    Frank always managed to protect Marcia, no matter what.


    Only Elissa ever got thrown under the bus without a second thought.


    A brittle, almost embarrassed smile flickered across her face, “Fine.”


    “I’ll do it.”


    Frank never really gave her a choice, and Elissa knew it.


    His voice was cool, detached. “I know this isn’t fair to you, Elissa. Consider this my way of


    making it up to you.”


    “Tomorrow<i>, </i>meet up with Tanya Foster. Go shopping. Buy whatever you want.”


    He slid a check toward her as he spoke.


    13:31


    When Elissa didn’t move, he ced it on her pillow himself.


    Then, without another word, he left the room, moving quickly–like <i>he </i>couldn’t stand to spend another second away from his real love.


    Only after he was gone did Elissa pick up the check.


    Seven zeroes.


    A full two million dors.


    A bargain.


    For Frank, it was a steal–two million for a smooth, risk–free PR fix.


    For her, well, maybe it was a bargain too.


    Elissa opened her social media, switched ounts, and typed out a simple statement.


    [No more guessing, everyone–the woman in the photos is me. Just a little harmless fun between husband and wife.]


    The money was hers.


    She tucked the check away, turned off the lights, and tried to sleep.


    But when she closed her eyes, all she could see was herself at seven years old.


    Kneeling in punishment on the gravel drive at Murphy Manor.


    Back then, when the old matriarch ordered the staff to strike her, a thirteen–year–old boy wearing a ck armband had stepped in and shielded her, unwavering.


    He’d said, “If you <i>don’t </i>like her, she’ll move into my wing from now on.”


    Then he’d <i>taken </i>her hand and led her away, grumbling about herck of backbone, how she always got herself into trouble.


    To this day, she could still recall how straight and thin his back was as he stood in front of her, shielding her from harm.


    In the darkness, Elissa suddenly raised a hand and covered her eyes.


    Her palm came away wet with tears.


    Her little “rification” gave Marcia several days to revel in triumph.


    Marcia couldn’t even be bothered to antagonize her anymore.


    After all, Frank had made his choice crystal clear.


    13:31


    Look at that her husband was kissing another woman, and she’d been forced to help


    cover it up.


    Anyone could see who mattered more.


    Elissa didn’t have the heart to watch Marcia gloat. She holed up in her room, quietly sorting through the things she could take with her.


    She didn’t have many clothes.


    What took the most effort was packing up her shelves of professional books.