For twelve years, Valerie knew her husband was sleeping with another woman, and even so, she served him coffee, ironed his shirts, and cared for him when cancer left him nothing but bones. But the night he was going to die, she leaned into his ear and whispered: “Robert, your punishment is just beginning…”

—”Robert, your punishment is just beginning…”

He opened his eyes in terror.

Not because of death.

Because he understood that Valerie wasn’t talking about hell.

She was talking about his children.

The monitor continued beeping softly, indifferent. Outside, the rain battered the windows of Northwestern Memorial as if all of Chicago were washing away an old stain.

Danielle clutched the white envelope.

—”What’s in here?” she repeated, stripped of her arrogance.

Valerie didn’t answer her.

She took the envelope from her hands and put it back in her purse.

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—”This isn’t for you.”

Danielle took a step toward her.

—”Robert promised me I wouldn’t be left with nothing.”

Valerie looked at her with a brutal calm.

—”Robert also promised me fidelity at an altar. As you can see, his promises aren’t worth much.”

Danielle turned toward the bed.

—”Tell her something.”

Robert tried to speak, but only a groan came out.

The man who for years had managed employees, partners, women, and lies now couldn’t even hold his own saliva.

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Valerie wiped his mouth with a piece of gauze.

—”Don’t strain yourself. You’ve talked enough over the last twelve years.”

Danielle opened the blue folder again, desperate.

—”This can’t be legal. He told me he changed everything.”

—”He did change it,” Valerie said. “Three times. Every time you threw a tantrum. Every time you demanded a house. Every time you reminded him that he wasted his life with me.”

Robert closed his eyes.

Valerie continued:

—”But he forgot something. When he started chemotherapy, he gave me full power of attorney to move accounts, handle insurance, and make medical decisions. He said he trusted me. How ironic.”

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Danielle grew pale.

—”What did you do?”

—”I protected what belonged to my children.”

—”You didn’t build that company!”

Valerie let out a low laugh.

—”No. I only hosted partners in my dining room. I only organized dinners. I only smiled in front of investors while you sent him photos from luxury hotels on the Gold Coast. I only raised his children so he could play the free man.”

Danielle clenched her jaw.

—”He loved me.”

Valerie stepped closer to her.

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—”No. He used you to feel young. He used me to look decent. He used all of us.”

Robert began to cry.

—”Val…”

She turned to him.

—”Do you know what the saddest part is? For years I thought that when this moment came, I was going to hate you. But no. You’re not even worth my hatred anymore.”

That hurt him more than an insult.

Danielle smacked the bed with the folder.

—”I am not leaving empty-handed!”

The door opened.

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Two men in suits and a woman with a briefcase walked in. Danielle stepped back.

Valerie didn’t even move.

—”You’re late again,” she said. “These are my lawyers.”

The woman introduced herself with a firm voice:

—”Attorney Aurora Sterling. Ms. Danielle, this room is registered as a restricted area at the request of Mr. Miller’s legal wife and authorized medical proxy. We ask you to leave.”

Danielle laughed.

—”Medical proxy? How convenient. Did she also decide when he dies?”

Valerie looked at her without blinking.

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—”No. Robert decided how he lived. His body decided how he dies.”

Robert was breathing faster.

—”Danielle… leave.”

She froze.

—”What?”

—”Leave,” he repeated, barely audible.

The mistress looked at him as if he had slapped her.

—”After everything?”

Robert couldn’t hold her gaze.

Valerie saw in that gesture the ultimate truth of her marriage: Robert never chose out of love. He chose out of cowardice.

Danielle grabbed her purse.

—”You’re going to regret this, Valerie.”

—”No. I’ve already taken inventory of my regrets. You aren’t on the list.”

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Danielle walked out, her heels striking the hallway floor.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Every step sounded less powerful than the last.

When the door closed, Robert began to beg.

—”Don’t give it to the kids.”

Valerie sat next to him.

—”You owe them the truth.”

—”Not like this.”

—”How did you want it? On a statue? With an open-casket funeral and everyone saying you were an exemplary father?”

—”I was their father.”

—”Part-time.”

Robert gripped the sheet.

—”I love them.”

—”You loved them whenever they weren’t in the way.”

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He shook his head.

—”You don’t know everything.”

Valerie tilted her head.

—”Yes, Robert. That’s your problem. I know more than you think.”

She took out the white envelope and placed it on his sunken chest.

—”I know about Danielle. I know about the apartments you bought her. I know about the money you siphoned from the family business. I know about the offshore account in the Caymans. I know about the payments to the doctor who gave you notes for your ‘treatment trips’ when in reality you were in Miami with her.”

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Robert closed his eyes.

—”Please…”

—”And I know about Emmett.”