Chapter 3 Call the Cops Back at the Collins estate. When Jackson and Aiden got home, Victoria had already finished setting the table, dinner hot and ready. She looked up, surprised to see Natalie wasn't with them. Once she got the full story, she sighed. "Jackson, is Ms. Foster refusing to come back because she still blames me for what happened three years ago? I mean, she's been in prison. Where else could she possibly go if not here?" "Let her do what she wants," Jackson replied coolly. Still, when he thought about the way Natalie looked earlier, he couldn't help but frown. She wasn't just thinner-she looked like a completely different person. She had a look in her eyes he hadn't seen before-distant, guarded, tough. Did she really have it that rough in prison? No. That couldn't be. But that didn't make sense. Victoria had told him women's prison wasn't that bad. She said most of the inmates were nice. He'd pulled strings to make sure she was fine. She had food, clothing, and decent treatment. Three years inside? It was basically a long time-out for what she did. Victoria, though, looked a little uneasy. "But what if Mr. Gabriel asks about her? He specifically asked you to go pick her up." Gabriel Collins-Jackson's grandfather-had always been fond of Natalie. Years ago, she'd saved his life. Because of that, he had insisted Jackson marry her and even paid a fortune to make it happen. Even after she went to prison, Gabriel still saw her as part of the family-the only woman he ever wanted as his granddaughter-in-law. Jackson didn't seem concerned. "Relax. She might be mad at me, but she'd never turn her back on Aiden. His graduation's coming up-she'll be there." Aiden had skipped three grades. He was only nine and already finishing elementary school. Everyone knew how much Natalie adored her son. There was no way she'd miss something that important. Aiden pouted and leaned into Victoria's arms, whining. "But I want you to come to my graduation, Ms. Victoria." Victoria tapped his nose with a smile. "Alright, but only if you help get your mom to come home first. She's been gone long enough, don't you think?" Then, as if it were nothing, she added, "And maybe... she doesn't need to actually show up at the graduation. I mean, she's been in prison. That kind of thing gets around. I'd hate for the other kids to treat you differently." Aiden paused for a second. Get her back? Is Ms. Victoria asking me to lie? The thought flashed through his head-just for a moment-before it slipped away. If his classmates found out his mom had been in prison, no one would want to talk to him. And since his dad didn't object, Aiden nodded obediently. Victoria smiled again and glanced at the food on the table. "What a shame... I made all this just for Ms. Foster. Looks like it's going to waste." But then two full days passed-and Natalie never called. It really seemed like she meant what she said. She didn't reach out. Didn't ask about Aiden. Didn't check in. It really seemed like she was serious about the divorce-and about cutting them off completely. Jackson's frown deepened. Finally, he pulled out his phone and dialed her number. But all he got was a robotic message. "This number is no longer in service." He froze. That's when it hit him-she'd been gone three years. Her old number must've been disconnected long ago. He had no way of reaching her. A strange tightness settled in his chest. Something between frustration and something he didn't want to name. Jackson snapped at his assistant over the phone. "Find out where Mrs. Collins is living-and get me her new number. If she's out of prison, I want to know exactly what she's up to. She doesn't get to walk away and tarnish the Collins family name." ... In the two days since her release, Natalie kept to herself, quietly cleaning and resetting things at Oakridge Estates. After the divorce, she'd be entitled to half of Jackson's assets. But until then, she had to survive on her own. So she turned back to something that once gave her peace-jade carving. The place had been left alone for three years, and now every surface was buried under layers of dust. As she swept the porch, something caught her eye-and then it hit her. The angel statues were gone. Frowning, she called property management. "Three years ago," the woman on the line explained, "Ms. Victoria had some kind of scare with obsessive fans. She mentioned liking the statues, so Mr. Jackson and Aiden had them moved to her house-said they'd bring her peace of mind." Natalie didn't even flinch. Those statues were hers. She'd carved them herself-by hand-for Jackson and Aiden. A gift meant to bring comfort and protection. Back then, Jackson had mocked the angels-said they were dramatic, too sentimental. He had them removed like they were nothing. And now? They were sitting outside Victoria's house like some thoughtful gift. They dismissed her gift-then turned around and handed it off like it was theirs to give. Natalie hung up. Then, without hesitation, she dialed 911. When the operator answered, her voice was calm and flat. "I'd like to report a theft. Some property was taken from my home without my permission." After filing the report, she felt completely drained. Once the officers left, the chills set in. Natalie touched her forehead-she was burning up. Still, she pushed through and went to the hospital for medication. But when the doctor examined her, his expression shifted. Concerned. Hesitant. "You've got multiple old injuries, and they're not healing properly. There are bruises, blunt force trauma, even puncture marks... Your body's extremely weak. My advice is that you stay for a while-get proper care. Otherwise..." "I'll be fine." Natalie cut him off, her tone blank and steady. "That won't be necessary." She knew her condition better than anyone. She was trained in medicine. The abuse in prison had been relentless-deliberate but hidden well enough to avoid drawing the guards' attention. If it weren't for her medical training, she might not have made it out of prison alive. She had survived worse. She wasn't about to fall apart now. But what cut the deepest wasn't the pain. It was knowing these scars came from the people she had once loved most-her husband and the child she carried for nine months. The irony of it all was unbearable. She was never going back to the Collins family. ... While Natalie was getting her bandages changed, Aiden happened to spot her across the room. He tugged at Jackson's sleeve, frowning. "Dad... why is she here? Is she sick?" Jackson turned to look, his gaze landing on Natalie for the first time. His brows furrowed. His jaw tightened. There was a flash of irritation in his eyes. Three years later, and she was still pulling this stunt? Sick? Yeah, right. She was faking it-putting on a show for attention.