Chapter 1

The moment I stepped into my alumni reunion, a little boy crashed into me. A total stranger. But his face was a mirror image of my ex, Adam Hayes.

Our old teacher, looking on, beamed with fond nostalgia. "Is this your and Adam's son? He's absolutely adorable!"

Before I could even explain, Valerie, my former best friend, rushed over and scooped the boy into a tight hug.

"Leo! You can't just run off like that!!"

Adam followed close behind her, freezing solid the moment his eyes landed on my face.

"Jenna? You're...alive?"

Valerie's head snapped up at his words. Her eyes wide with shock.

After all, to them, I'd been dead for five years, lost at sea.

I offered a thin, unsettling smile. "I'm a survivor. A bit of saltwater wasn't enough to finish me off."

Ever the quick thinker, Valerie mastered her expression in a heartbeat. She bounced the little boy gently in her arms.

"Leo, this is Auntie Jenna. You should call her Godmother."

Years back, we pledged to be each other's maid of honor and godmother. It felt like forever, then.

The boy, Leo, shyly mumbled. "Godmother."

I didn't respond. Offering the teacher the briefest of apologies, I turned and walked away.

Our teacher, sensing the drama, was probably grateful for my exit.

Adam was not. I heard his steps immediately behind me.

"Jenna, where are you going? I'll give you a ride."

Valerie subtly frowned, but her voice was sweet.

"He's right, you don't even drive. It's so inconvenient to be alone."

I had to suppress a laugh.

After all these years, she still saw me as some fragile, useless thing.

But hey, if someone was practically begging to be my chauffeur, why say no?

All the way, Adam kept asking about my life.

I gave him only the barest outline in return.

Someone had pulled me from the water that day. I'd survived. I'd spent the years since abroad, building a life by selling my paintings.

I was back now because a collector, a regular patron of my work, had insisted on meeting in person.

At that, Adam's tone turned sharp.

"A collector? Man or woman? Are you sure they're trustworthy? You can't be too careful."

I shot back, without a hint of mercy.

"If I couldn't trust the friends I grew up with, or the husband I shared a bed with, what possible standard could I use to judge a stranger?"

Adam immediately fell silent.

Valerie's face went completely blank, then she looked furious.

Once we arrived at my place, I grabbed my things and got out of the car. But then, I turned back and walked toward the boy by Valerie's side.

Little Leo. His upper face was Adam's, his lower face Valerie's.

The moment I extended a hand towards him, Valerie clutched the child to her chest in terror.

"What are you doing? Do you want my child to pay for your revenge? He's innocent!"

Adam also called my name, a warning in his voice.

But all I did was reach out and pluck a fruit pit from Leo's mouth.

"I was just afraid he might end up like my own child. With adults right there, choking on something, suffocating to death."

Their faces went white. Silence descended.

Back home, I received a message from Mr. Henderson.

He truly appreciated my work, and for years, whenever I had a new piece, he'd admire it even if he didn't buy it.

My trip back wasn't just to meet him; it was also to put an old heartache to rest.

In a quiet cafe, I met Mr. Henderson.

He looked to be in his fifties or sixties, with a distinguished, lean face.

"Ms. Sterling, I see so many stories in your paintings. They make me incredibly curious."

"Would I be so honored as to hear some of them?"

I glanced around the peaceful cafe, then nodded.