Chapter 2

Immediately after, I dialed a number. The call picked up, and the rapid clatter of a keyboard echoed through the receiver.

"Caleb," I said. "I need you to trace an IP address for me."

That night, I didn't send a single message in any group chat. No explanations, no crying, no hysterics.

Ethan texted me three times asking, "You there?" I left him on read.

They wanted to see me break.

I had given them that show in my past life.

But in this life, I was giving them the one thing that keeps criminals awake at night: absolute, deafening silence.

The next morning at 8:00 AM, Caleb's message came through.

He sent a screenshot of an IP address log, which pinned the location right to Ethan's study.

Below it, he wrote: "This IP logged into the anonymous account that posted the photos yesterday at 3:17 PM. The device used was a MacBook named 'Ethan’s MacBook Pro.' Want me to dig deeper?"

I replied with one word: "Dig."

Then, I searched my contacts for Ethan’s mother, Miranda.

My "almost" mother-in-law had sent me a very long, patronizing voice note in my past life when they called off the engagement. Her tone had been gentle, her words polite, saying, "Oh, Chloe, I’m so sorry, but Ethan's father just can't accept this kind of behavior.

My hands are tied." She sounded like she was apologizing, but every word was designed to push me off the cliff.

This time, I called her directly on FaceTime.

"Miranda, it’s Chloe," I said, my voice incredibly calm, even sweet. "I need to see you. I have some things I want to discuss in person. Regarding Ethan."

The other end went silent for a couple of seconds.

"About what?" Miranda’s voice sounded guarded.

"You'll see when I get there," I replied. "Tomorrow afternoon at three. I'll come over to your house. Does that work?"

She paused again before saying, "Fine. Come over."

After hanging up, I lay down on my bed. Outside, I could hear some neighbors gossiping about me in the hallway.

My mother had posted "I don't have a daughter anymore" in another chat with our relatives.

Ethan posted a black-and-white photo on Instagram with the caption: "You can never truly know someone's heart." It already had over twenty likes.

I saw it all.

But I was waiting for tomorrow.

Tomorrow, the real show begins.