Caroline collapsed into the hard wooden chair of the coffee shop. All the strength had been violently sucked out of her bones.
Arlington's lips curved into a deeply satisfied smile. He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a heavy, silver fountain pen.
He slid a single sheet of paper-a prenuptial letter of intent-across the table toward her. He tapped his long index finger on the signature line at the bottom right corner.
Caroline took the pen. Her fingers were shaking so badly she could barely grip the metal. She quickly scribbled her name on the line. It felt like signing her soul over to the devil.
Arlington snatched the paper back.
"Go home. Get your original birth certificate and your Social Security card. Meet me at City Hall in two hours," he ordered, his tone clipping with absolute authority.
Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked out. He slid into the back of the Maybach, and the massive car glided away, disappearing down the street.
Caroline stared at the empty space where the car had been. A surge of hot, helpless rage boiled in her stomach. She grabbed a napkin off the table, crumpled it into a tight ball, and hurled it at the floor.
She took three deep breaths, trying to force oxygen into her tight lungs. She grabbed her canvas tote bag and practically ran out of the coffee shop, heading straight for the subway station.
She swiped her MetroCard aggressively, shoving her way through the heavy metal turnstile.
Standing on the loud, grimy platform, she bit down hard on the side of her thumbnail. She needed a plan.
I'll fake it, she thought frantically. I'll get the license to keep him from suing my parents, and then I'll immediately file for an annulment. He can't force me to stay married.
The train roared into the station. She squeezed into the crowded car, gripping the metal pole so tightly her knuckles turned white.
An hour later, she stepped off the Long Island Rail Road. She walked down the quiet, oak-lined street toward the familiar two-story colonial house where she grew up.
She stopped at the edge of the driveway. She slapped her cheeks hard with both hands, forcing the blood to rise, and stretched her lips into a wide, fake smile.
She turned the doorknob and stepped into the entryway.
"Mom! I'm home!" she called out, trying to inject fake excitement into her voice.
Eleanor Sanders walked out of the kitchen. She was wearing a floral apron, her hands covered in flour, the sweet smell of baking apple pie following her.
"Caroline? What are you doing home on a Tuesday morning?" Eleanor asked, wiping her hands on a towel, her brow furrowing with confusion.
Caroline swallowed the thick lump of guilt in her throat.
"I got accepted into a highly classified government contracting project!" Caroline lied, her voice pitching slightly too high. "It's a top-secret initiative based in the city. They need to run a final, expedited federal background check today."
She forced a laugh. "The Department of Defense is breathing down my neck. I have to go to the federal building for an in-person identity verification. I need my original birth certificate and my Social Security card."
Eleanor stopped wiping her hands. Her eyes narrowed slightly, catching the way Caroline's gaze kept darting to the floor.
Caroline's palms began to sweat. She dug her fingernails into her palms and forced herself to look her mother dead in the eye. She started rambling about the strict security clearances, the fake benefits, the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work for the state.
The mention of the prestigious government role worked. Eleanor's suspicion melted into a beaming, proud smile. She pulled Caroline into a tight, floury hug.
"Oh, honey, I'm so proud of you!" Eleanor gushed, turning and heading up the stairs.
Caroline followed her mother up the wooden steps. With every step she took, the crushing weight of her lie pressed harder against her chest. She felt sick to her stomach.
Eleanor walked into the family study. She pulled open the bottom drawer of the green metal filing cabinet and dug through a stack of manila envelopes.
She pulled out two yellowed documents and handed them to Caroline.
"You're going to do amazing things, sweetheart," Eleanor said warmly.
Caroline's fingers trembled as she took the papers. She couldn't even look at her mother's hopeful eyes.
She shoved the documents deep into the bottom of her tote bag and yanked the zipper shut. It felt like she was hiding a live bomb.
"Stay for lunch? The pie is almost done," Eleanor offered.
"I can't! HR is waiting!" Caroline blurted out, panic edging into her voice.
She practically sprinted down the stairs. She shoved her feet into her sneakers at the door, waving a frantic goodbye over her shoulder.
She ran down the tree-lined sidewalk, clutching her bag tightly to her chest. She promised herself she would end this nightmare as fast as humanly possible.
