The second afternoon was warm. Too warm for October. The kind of heat that made people sluggish and careless.
I stood on the dock with Biscuit at my side and watched the water.
Leila's footsteps came from behind, light and deliberate on the weathered planks.
"Camryn," she said softly. "Can we talk?"
I turned. She stood a few feet away, her hands clasped in front of her. She was wearing white linen. It made her look like a dove.
"About what?" I asked.
She moved closer, her expression earnest. "About everything. I know this is hard for you. I know you're angry. But I think—I think if we could just be honest with each other, we could find a way forward."
I didn't respond. I waited.
She took another step. We were standing near the end of the dock now, where the wood was darkest from water rot. The lake stretched out behind me, flat and gray.
"I never meant for any of this to happen," she continued. Her voice was soft, threaded with that careful tremor she used so well. "My anxiety makes everything so complicated, and Caleb was just so understanding, and I—"
She stopped talking.
Her hands came up fast and hit my shoulders. Hard.
I felt the shove—the full weight of her body behind it—and then I was falling backward into nothing.
The water was cold. Shockingly cold. It closed over my head and filled my ears with a muffled roar. My coat dragged me down. I kicked hard, broke the surface, gasped.
Above me, the dock stretched like a pale scar across my vision.
Caleb stood at the edge.
He didn't reach down. He crouched, elbows on his knees, and looked at me the way someone might look at a stain they were deciding whether to clean.
"Who's going to believe you?" he said. His voice was almost conversational. "A blind woman with a grudge. You slipped. The wood was rotten. Everyone saw you walking out here alone."
I treaded water, my breath coming in short, hard gasps. My glasses were gone. I could see his face clearly. Every line. Every cold calculation.
He stood, picked up my phone from where it had fallen on the dock, and smashed it against the metal railing. Once. Twice. The screen shattered. Pieces of glass scattered across the wood.
"Accidents happen," he said.
Behind him, Leila stood with one hand pressed to her mouth. Her eyes were wide. She looked like a woman witnessing a tragedy she had no part in.
From the shore, Biscuit barked. Sharp, frantic sounds that cut through the air.
I reached for the dock edge. The wood was slick with algae. My fingers slipped. I tried again, dug my nails into the soft rot, and pulled.
Caleb watched.
He didn't move to help. He didn't move to stop me. He just watched.
I dragged myself up, inch by inch, water streaming from my coat. My arms shook. My chest burned. I got one knee onto the dock, then the other.
I stood.
Water pooled around my feet. My hair hung in cold ropes against my neck. I looked at Caleb, then at Leila.
Neither of them spoke.
I walked past them. Biscuit ran to me the moment I stepped off the dock, pressing against my legs, his whole body trembling.
I didn't look back.
---
In my room, I peeled off my soaked clothes and stood in the shower until the water ran hot enough to burn.
Biscuit lay on the bathroom floor, his eyes fixed on me through the glass.
I dried off slowly. Dressed in dry clothes. Sat on the edge of the bed with my hands folded in my lap.
The certainty settled over me like a weight.
They weren't going to stop.
This wasn't about humiliation anymore. It wasn't about the affair or the divorce or even the money.
They were going to kill me.
Not today. Not here, where there were witnesses and cameras and too many variables. But soon. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere final.
It wasn't a question of if. Only when, and how.
I felt no panic. No fear. Just a cold, clear understanding that slid into place like a key in a lock.
I opened my laptop.
I made four calls on a secondary phone Caleb didn't know existed. Each conversation was brief. Each one ended with confirmation.
I moved three accounts to offshore structures he couldn't trace. I finalized two arrangements I'd been holding in reserve. I sent one encrypted message to a contact in Prague.
When I was finished, I closed the laptop and sat in the dark.
Biscuit climbed onto the bed and pressed his head against my knee.
I stroked his ears and stared at the window.
Outside, the lake was black and still.
I wasn't afraid.
I was ready.
