Page 90 of Trust No One

“I better get back to Hale House. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

“What’re you going to do about Molly?”

“I’ll petition the court for custody.”

“What about Gabe’s parental rights?”

“I’ll get him to sign over custody.”

“You’re going to take his daughter?”

“Hales are known for messy endings.”

I used to believe . . .

Justice was inevitable.

But here’s the truth.

You must make it happen yourself.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Raine

Wednesday, October 21, 2026, 7:00 a.m.

Calloused fingers clamped around my throat. My windpipe shrank to nothing. Air trapped, rotting in my lungs, my chest burned. I clawed for breath, for freedom, for life.

Panic surged as I clawed at the hands. Black eyes—shadows swallowing light—bored into mine. My vision tunneled. I gasped—then nothing.

I bolted upright in bed. Sheets twisted around me, damp with sweat. My fingers flew to my neck, skin slick, tender.

Sleep never came easy for me. Nights were long—ceilings, empty halls, silence. Ken’s side of the bed was cold. Isolation. I’d lived with solitude for years.

But since the attack, nights weren’t just lonely. They were dangerous. Every creak, every shadow carried a threat.

Work had been my best distraction. When life pressed too close, I’d sneak downstairs, bury myself in files, cases, clients. Distraction.

But this morning, I had no work. No clients. No waning marriage. No familiar landmarks. Just blankets as heavy as stone, air like ice, and a room I didn’t recognize.

Moments passed.

I’d escaped Pete. I was safe from him.

But Hale House had found me again.

A step creaked on the staircase.

I froze. “Who’s there?”

Silence pressed in. My breath quickened.

I shoved back the covers, feet meeting the icy floor. Trembling fingers fumbled with the light on the nightstand.

The switch slipped in sweat-soaked fingers. I dried them on the sheets. Tried again. Finally, light spilled on my glasses and charging phone.

Gripping the phone, I scanned the room. Nothing moved. Nothing waited. I approached the darkness, braced for trouble. But as I got closer, the sense of another presence faded. I was alone.