Page 17 of My Husband’s New Fiancée

“I was in shock too,” she says softly. “How could she do this to us? How could she be so cruel?”

5. In-Laws

Valeria

Saturday, December 17

Icy water and darkness close around me.

I can’t breathe.

I’m suffocating.

I fight desperately to reach the surface.

At last, my face breaks through the water.

A violent coughing fit tears through me, my lungs still raw from the smoke.

The shore is unreachable.

The current is too strong.

My legs grow heavier and heavier. My arms slowly drain of strength.

The cold numbs me little by little.

I sink.

I jolt awake, my heart hammering violently against my ribs.

That damned nightmare again. It’s been coming back more and more these past few days.

Always the same: the black water, the cold, that horrible feeling of not being able to breathe.

My shirt clings to my sweat-soaked skin.

I stay lying there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, struggling to catch my breath.

7:30 a.m.

Stephen should be here soon.

I drag myself out of bed and step beneath the shower. The scalding water slowly strips the last traces of the nightmare from my skin, though it does little to ease the tension still knotted tight in my stomach.

Two hours later, Stephen and I walk into the headquarters of the Paris Judicial Police.

Narrow corridors. Worn tile floors. Harsh fluorescent lighting.

Police officers move quickly through the halls with coffee in hand and files tucked beneath their arms.

The air smells like paper, exhaustion, and bad coffee.

People never come here for good reasons.

Stephen places a discreet hand against my back as we approach reception.

“Good morning. I’m Valeria Delorme. We have an appointment with Inspector Sanders.”