The room felt unsteady.
I looked at Mason. He said nothing. He didn’t deny it. He just swallowed.
My voice thinned. “Mason… tell her the truth. Tell her we are not married.”
Linda’s smugness cracked into confusion. “Huh?”
I stepped closer, hands trembling. “We are not married,” I repeated clearly. “There was no courthouse wedding. There’s no marriage license. I never signed anything.”
Linda turned back to Mason, expecting correction.
He stayed silent.
And in that silence, the full truth surfaced: Linda had acted on a lie her son fed her—a lie involving my house, my money, and a future I never agreed to.
Her face drained of color.
Before she could even form her next question, a new sound came from behind the freshly built wall—soft footsteps… and the unmistakable click of a lock turning on the other side.
The lock clicked again, slow and intentional, like someone wanted acknowledgment.
