Page 4 of Trust No One

Gabe’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on with you?”

My throat constricted. “Nothing.”

He reached past me and shut off the water.

I wanted to lean into him. I wanted us to be who we’d been. But that couple was so far gone. I didn’t know where to find them or if I wanted to. I had been naive. So sure that if I went along with what the world gave me, it would one day treat me fairly.

My knees buckled, and I fell forward, hitting my head on the counter as I dropped to the floor. My eyes rolled back in my head.

Strong arms grabbed me and rotated me onto my back. Gabe’s face hovered above mine, pale and frantic. “Maria! What’s happening?”

I was in real trouble. “Help.”

Chapter Two

Raine

Saturday, October 17, 2026, 1:00 a.m.

Hale House

Crozet, Virginia

My brain didn’t register the buzzing phone right away.

Wine soaked and sleep heavy, I convinced myself it wasn’t real. I burrowed deeper under the covers.

But the shrill noise kept coming—relentless, echoing through the room until I slapped the nightstand and fumbled for my cell.

“Hello?” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat. “Hello.”

“Raine Hale?” Her tones were clipped.

“Yes.”

“I’m Dr. Webber at the University of Virginia Medical Center. You are the emergency contact for Maria Hale Cooper Durant, correct?”

I blinked and sat up. Years ago, I’d been Maria’s legal surrogate. She’d signed a will, an advanced medical directive, and a custody agreement for her daughter. But that was before the last argument. We hadn’t spoken in over a year. And then months ago, she’d filed a lawsuit claiming she was owed a portion of the Hale House estate. “Why?”

“Maria Durant collapsed several hours ago. She was transported to our critical care unit,” Dr. Webber said. “She’s suffered a heart attack.”

“That doesn’t make sense. She’s thirty-four.” Last I saw her, she was a runner. Healthy. Active.

“She’s in grave condition.”

I didn’t recognize the lemons and green vines on the faded wallpaper around me. All I could say was that I wasn’t in the Alexandria home I shared with my husband. Several seconds passed before the fragments fell into place. I’d taken leave from my public defender job, returned alone to Hale House—my family’s crumbling estate—and was on the brink of divorce.

Lemons. Green vines. I was in a spare bedroom in Hale House because the other rooms were too charged with memories. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Will you come to the hospital?” Dr. Webber’s impatience crackled.

“Where is her husband?”

“I don’t know.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed. Bare feet touched a cold floor. “But why isn’t he there?”

“I don’t know. He’s not answering his phone. And you’re her contact, so I’m notifying you.”