I blinked at the screen. "She's alive. Perfectly fine, as far as I can tell."

The typing indicator pulsed for three full minutes before her response appeared.

"Why are you asking about her?"

Her tone had shifted—serious now. I matched it.

"She's at my house. Planning to spend New Year's with my family."

What followed was an avalanche. Over a dozen voice messages, each one maxed out at sixty seconds.

My stomach dropped. Harper Collins was known for being flighty, never using ten words when two would do. Something was very wrong.

Her voice poured through the speaker, urgent and unrelenting.

"Get her out of there. She has an infectious disease. A serious one."

"With what she has, a common cold could kill her. She's been carrying it for three years—I was there when she got diagnosed at our hospital."

"How could you let her into your home? Are you out of your mind?"

"..."

More messages followed—documents, medical files, detailed records.

But no matter how much she sent, three words burned brightest.

Infectious disease.

A serious one.

I typed back: "Can she still get pregnant?"

The answer came immediately: "Then you're all screwed. It transmits from mother to child. No cure. Ever."

I stared at the files filling my screen.

For a long moment, I couldn't speak. Couldn't decide if this was tragedy or justice.

One thing was clear: based on everything I'd seen that day, Ray and his family had no idea.

A gust of cold wind slashed across my face, and I shuddered—my mind snapping awake.

I threw open the car door and ran back to the Dickersons' house, pounding on the door like a madwoman.

It cracked open just a sliver. "What do you want?"

Rachel's face filled the gap.

I looked past her, my eyes locking onto Ray as he comforted Ruth, stroking her hair.

My voice rang out, sharp and clear: "Ray."

He glanced over, irritation flickering in his gaze—a look so cold it chilled me to the bone.

But the past was smoke. From this moment on, I would carry no more longing.

I swallowed every emotion and said the words I never thought I'd say: "Let's get a divorce."