Chapter 1: The Muddy Rain
The rain did not fall in a dramatic downpour; it was a slow, agonizing drizzle, the kind that seeped through the thick black fabric of my mourning dress and settled deep into my bones. The sky over the sprawling, manicured estate of the Washington family was a heavy, bruised gray, perfectly mirroring the hollow, echoing void inside my chest.
It had been exactly twenty-four hours since I stood beside the mahogany casket and watched them lower my husband, Terrence, into the cold earth.
“Get your trash off my lawn, Audrey!”
The shrill, vicious voice of my mother-in-law, Eleanor Washington, shattered the fragile quiet of the afternoon.
I stood on the wet, slippery grass, my arms wrapped tightly around my shivering body. Before my eyes, Eleanor dragged my cheap, fraying canvas suitcase—the exact same suitcase I had brought with me when I moved into this mansion three years ago—out onto the front porch. With a grunt of sheer, malicious effort, she heaved it down the stone steps.
The cheap zipper, strained by the impact, burst open. My modest clothes, my nursing scrubs, and my few personal belongings scattered across the pristine, waterlogged lawn, instantly soaking up the dark, churning mud.
